The most recommended books about teenagers

Miranda Sinclair is a latchkey kid who lives with her single mom on the Upper West Side of New York City in the late 1970s. I love the way Miranda navigates her dirty, dangerous, yet enchanting city – her street smarts, her fears, her relationships with the adults in the neighborhood who keep a watchful eye over her. And the book, while totally gritty and real, also has a lovely, melancholy element of magical realism that makes the story mysterious and poignant. 

It is fair to say that this is my favorite memoir I’ve ever read. I’m shocked it didn’t make bestseller lists when it came out. Finneran is a poet, who through the language, attention to detail, and strategic pacing of key scenes, makes readers see and feel what she wants us to see and feel. This book offered me, as a teacher of college writing, numerous perfect examples of how scenes can be developed to drop readers into a moment, to transport them. Finneran focuses the memoir on how her brother’s suicide affected her whole, big, Catholic family. The Tender Land, a Family Love Story is a portrait of a family who has lost something huge. Devastating content aside, this is a memoir that you will delight in, sentence by sentence, for its language. Highly recommend this remarkable book. 

Black Hole is a striking tale of a sexually transmitted plague running rampant amongst a community of teenagers in suburban Washington in the 1970s, all illustrated in creator Charles Burns’ almost inhumanly precise and dark art style. Mind-bending and terrifying, this graphic novel has come close to being adapted many times over the year, and its mix of eminently relatable interpersonal drama and existential dread make it a perfect fit for the screen, a horror story with heart and soul.

K-pop Confidential was so real, I felt like I was the trainee. Candace Park is a fierce character with raw talent who starts her K-pop trainee years not believing in herself. Not only does the reader feel like they’re overcoming the challenges along with Candace, but it goes deep into the K-pop world with an intense knowledge of the industry. Candance’s fun personality and the cute B-story romance had just the right amount of tension to keep me hooked. One of my favorite K-pop books for sure.

Walden is one of my favorite pure artists—one of those people whose drawings I look at and say to myself: “I could never draw like that even if I practiced for the rest of my life.”

She combines her jaw-dropping artwork with sensitive, nuanced writing. While her work is consistently brilliant, this book—a memoir of her time coming-of-age as a queer person while being a competitive figure skater—was one of my foremost inspirations for my book, which started as a similar queer sports memoir before morphing into semi-autobiographical fiction.

As a child of Japanese immigrants, I did well in school and led a pretty tidy existence. But I was an adventurous reader, curious about how other teenagers led their lives. This book – wow! The title alone drew me in.

The “hamburger” refers to the advice a young woman is given to distract a man who is “on the make.” But the woman —and the reader—quickly learn going out for a burger doesn’t neutralize a teenager’s lust. Certainly, issues surrounding sex, pregnancy, and societal expectations have changed significantly over the years, so some language and circumstances in this novel don’t age well.

What remains true is the empathy with which the author depicts his characters and the honesty in how he depicts the complexities of making choices and growing up.

Can’t Get There from Here is another stark look at the realities of kids living on the street. Strasser quickly drew me into the life of Maybe and her tribe of friends Maggot, 2Moro, Rainbow, and Tears. Their day-to-day existence is one of scrounging for food, looking for a safe place to sleep for the night, and avoiding those who would harm them. Adults have hurt these kids so many times and in so many ways that their reluctance to trust the police for help is totally understandable.

She Gets the Girl was such a cute sapphic romance, the kind of romance I wished I had experienced when I was younger.

I enjoyed that it was set freshman year of college, rather than high school like most young adult books, and the very distinct personalities of both main characters. It was a really fun read and I honestly wish it didn’t have to end. I also can totally see this being made into a movie.

In All That’s Left To Say, dual timelines braid threads of a mystery together in a way that allowed me to contrast Hannah then and now and wonder not just about the mystery Hannah’s trying to solve, but about how she became the master sleuth she thinks she needs to be to get answers.

This contrast, as much as the mystery, drew me into the story and had me turning pages every time we jumped between past and present. Of course, the enemies-to-friends-to-lovers romance also helped. How Lord imbued a single tie-straightening scene with more sexual tension than most kissing scenes might be the biggest mystery in this book.

This historical novel also explores the lives of lesbians in the 1950s, but in a very different way: it is told in dual narratives, from the point of view of two teen girls growing up and coming out six decades apart. In 1955, eighteen-year-old Janet finds a series of books about women who love other women: lesbian pulp novels. Sixty-two years later, Abby is studying classic 1950s lesbian pulp fiction. It’s a cleverly constructed story and I love how the two stories are woven together.

From a queer history perspective, the book is well-researched and illuminates the danger and fear faced by so many queer people during the Lavender Scare, and the important role played by lesbian pulp novels in a time when young queer girls rarely saw others like themselves.