Fans pick 100 books like The Nowhere Girls

For decades, Laurie Halse Anderson’s work has been a guiding light for so many young people in her honest portrayals of life’s hardest challenges, including sexual assault. Her 2019 book Shout, a memoir written in verse, is a deeply personal reflection on her own experience with sexual assault and its impact on her life. She first tackled this topic twenty years earlier in her groundbreaking 1999 novel, Speak—a book that profoundly affected me as a young person. Born out of outrage over the lack of change that has happened in regard to how society treats survivors (and perpetrators) of sexual violence in the twenty years since Speak was published, Shout is a beautifully fierce and moving call to action for today.

Learning to Breathe tells such an important side of the #MeToo Movement, with sixteen-year-old Indira (Indy), a Black Bahamian girl who struggles to find her place in the aftermath of an assault that leads to an unwanted pregnancy. Set in the Bahamas, a place so often portrayed in Western culture as idyllic, it depicts a very different gritty and authentic lived reality for the main character. This heart-rending, yet empowering novel is enlightening on so many levels. Not only does it offer the unique and all-too-often overlooked point of view of a young person of color, but it also deals with complex family issues, homelessness, and a young woman’s path to claiming power over her own body and future. 

The Mirror Season is a difficult and beautiful novel about trauma – sexual assault, specifically – and it’s handled so compassionately, kindly, and brightly. Its central metaphor losing your magic after something unthinkable happens to you, left only with broken shards, works on many levels (as all good metaphors do). Ciela and Lock are brought together after one horrible night at a party, and their relationship is rendered realistically – they struggle separately and together. The something queer is pan: enchanted pan dulce, and a pansexual protagonist. 

I Have the Right to is the true story of Chessy Prout, who was sexually assaulted as a freshman as part of a ritualized “game” of conquest perpetrated by the boys at her high school. The book follows her quest for justice, as her case and trial gained international media attention. She has become a passionate advocate for consent education, and in 2017 (at the age of eighteen!) she started a non-profit dedicated to raising awareness of sexual assault in high schools. I’m in awe and admiration of the bravery and strength of this young woman, and believe everyone—teens and adults, boys and girls, everyone—needs to read her story. 

From Mary Gaitskill to a book that skips empathy and goes straight for evil.

This book about horrible middle school students systematically tearing down the fat girl in their class through bullying that borders on sexual assault is, to this day, the most nihilistic book I’ve ever read about human nature. The choice Blume makes that gives this book its extra edge is she writes from the viewpoint of Jill, a gutless follower. Jill tortures Linda because the popular kids sanction it; her evil is only matched by her mediocrity. Thus, Blume doesn’t even give her readers a “cool” bully to anchor the story.

Evil children, lazy teachers, no kernel of hope, just good old American cruelty where even the perpetual victim, Linda, turns out to suck in the end. I doubt I’ll ever write a book this dark, but damn, do I admire Blume for writing it.

Who said chess isn’t a sport? To be honest, I did before I read this incredible illustrated novel in verse. But after reading Marcus’s story in Chess Rumble by G. Neri, I changed my mind faster than a Queen can take out a lowly pawn. Marcus is in desperate need of an outlet. He’s dealing with some major personal issues at home as well as some major public ones at school. When he discovers chess, however, he quickly learns how much patience and control the game requires. Little by little, Marcus realizes that planning his moves on a chessboard isn't all that different from planning his moves in his own life.  

The kids in this story are so real.

The situation they find themselves in could happen at many schools, and they react like a lot of kids would–until they begin to wonder [wondering is a guide for my life (as is the other meaning of the word: to feel wonder/awe)]: What’s the deal? Why is this happening?

Curiosity leads to a burst of empathy. Empathy leads to kindness. Wow! Kids are changing their world by their own choices...that’s a story I love, find inspiring, and want to make real in my own life.

The illustrations let us come within inches of the feelings and the action. 

I originally picked up this book after hearing it was Hayao Miyazaki’s favourite childhood book. But the more I read, the more I saw how it changed me too. Thought-provoking and philosophically balanced, How Do You Live? asks questions that will throw any reader into a realm of introspection. A story about a 15-year-old boy and his uncle may seem simple, but its deeply human core provides angles and dimensions that range from history, science, and sociology. An experience to read. 

Katherine Hannigan creates quirky characters that I love, so when I saw True (… Sort Of) in our apartment building’s book exchange box, I snatched it up. Delly Patterson is an unlikely hero. She starts the book as the town troublemaker, bold in a way that I never dared to be as a child. Reading this book was like catapulting myself into a wilder, more adventurous childhood of my own without getting into trouble myself. Delly eventually uses her boldness to stand up for someone with more bravery than many adults might have. (I’d also like to give a shout-out to Katherine Hannigan for including a nonbinary character at a time when hardly anyone else – in society, and especially in children’s books – acknowledged nonbinary people.)

I read this book when I finishing an early draft of my own first novel and I was thoroughly impressed as well as a little intimidated by it. Having drummed up the courage to write my own coming-of-age novel after reading another YA novel that was popular at the time which I felt had clunky dialogue and narration, I was amazed at Spinelli's spot-on dialogue and crisp narration which captured the quirky and (sometimes) wonderful world of a 7th-grade narrator who was no longer a little kid but who hadn’t yet entered into young adulthood. It remains one of my favorites even today.