Many American readers have recently discovered Swedish writer Henning Mankell, whose novels about Inspector Kurt Wallander have already become bestsellers worldwide. Now, fans of Mankell’s adult books have an equally exciting, but very different, set of stories to share with their children. Although Mankell’s children’s novels featuring Joel Gustafson are not mysteries, they do share the same thoughtful introspection and perceptive, deliberate character development that have drawn so many adults to his other books.

Shadows in the Twilight is the second novel featuring Joel Gustafson, but it can easily be enjoyed by those who have not read its predecessor, A Bridge to the Stars. Joel, who’s about to turn 12, lives with his father Samuel in northern Sweden in 1957. His mother disappeared years ago, and Joel doesn’t even remember her. Joel, a lonely, quiet boy, fills his days by solving puzzles, caring for his father and interacting with their eccentric neighbors; he has few friends his own age and complains to his father that nothing ever happens in their sleepy little town.

That is, until Joel narrowly escapes being killed by a bus speeding down the main street in town. Convinced that he’s been visited by a genuine Miracle, Joel believes that he must now do a good deed for someone to express his gratitude to Providence.

Readers accustomed to the frenetic writing style of much recent American fiction for young people will need time to adjust to Mankell’s leisurely, lyrical storytelling. By taking his time to tell Joel’s story, however, Mankell allows readers to really get to know Joel, his father and their small town. Joel is portrayed with sensitivity and thoughtfulness, and his complex, realistic relationships with adults are unusual in children’s books, which tend to focus more on peer group dynamics. These intriguing elements make Joel’s story one that children and adults will enjoy reading and discussing together – thereby broadening this talented Swedish author’s reach even more.

Who knew that a 108-year-old vampire and an unsuspecting high schooler were the perfect twosome for horror and romance? Stephenie Meyer had a hunch, and while many writers before her have popularized the vampire tale, her internationally best-selling Twilight Saga has taken vampire love to an entirely new level. The saga will come to a conclusion on August 2, when Breaking Dawn, the fourth and final book in the series, is released, with a huge first printing of 3.2 million copies.

In Meyer’s previous novel, Eclipse, Bella was forced to choose her love for Edward, a reformed vampire, over her friendship with Jacob, a werewolf; this decision could lead her to become a vampire herself, but eager readers will have to wait for the release of Breaking Dawn to learn Bella’s final fate. To celebrate the release of the book, Meyer is holding a Breaking Dawn Concert Series, a sold-out, four-city concert tour featuring the music that stimulated Meyer’s muse while she was writing the story.

An unknown Mormon mother who was raising three sons in Arizona when Twilight was published in 2005, Meyer has become one of the most talked-about authors in recent years, earning a devoted following of readers who mob her book tours. She was chosen by Time magazine as one of the 100 Most Influential People of 2008. Interest in the characters Bella and Edward spans the globe, with more 30 countries purchasing translation rights for Twilight. Sequels New Moon and Eclipse claimed the top spot on the New York Times bestseller list for weeks, and her most recent novel and first adult book, The Host, topped the fiction list as well.

Interest in Meyer’s work is expected to reach a new high in December, when Twilight lands on the big screen. The film will star Kristen Stewart (Into the Wild) as Bella and Robert Pattinson (Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire) as Edward. Meyer also is currently writing her next novel, Midnight Sun, a companion novel to Twilight as told from Edward’s perspective.

Your kid knows Marcus Yallow. Heck, your kid might be Marcus Yallow! Who is he? He's the 21st-century equivalent of a 1950s teenage shade tree mechanic, but instead of measuring speed in terms of miles per hour, he measures it in terabytes per second. He's the geek in the crowd, in a world where the term geek is one of respect. He's a typical teenager, without a care in the world, but Marcus' world comes to a shattering halt when his hometown of San Francisco is hit with the next 9/11.

Cory Doctorow's much talked-about new novel for teens, Little Brother, opens with an act of terrorism on a frightening scale: the Bay Bridge is destroyed, with a devastating loss of life. The real impact though, is afterward, when a government overreaction turns life in the City by the Bay into a nightmarish 1984-type society where every movement is tracked, every word recorded, every thought considered suspicious. Marcus is caught up in the paranoia, and an innocent game ends up getting him and three friends arrested and imprisoned without trial, brutally interrogated, then released with a warning: tell no one. Although four friends are swept into this maelstrom, only three emerge—Marcus' friend Darryl has "disappeared." Marcus is forced into making a choice: either submit quietly like his parents to this new world order, or fight back. He and his techno-savvy friends decide on the latter course and commence a dangerous game of chicken with the Department of Homeland Security. Along with his newfound girlfriend Ange, Marcus must find a way to disrupt DHS trampling of civil liberties, to overcome a docile press' repetition of government propaganda and somehow to let the world know the truth: that thousands of innocent people are being held as political prisoners on an island in San Francisco Bay.

With its harrowing look at government abuse of power, Little Brother is clearly a political novel with a message for its young readers. It's also as savvy a political thriller as any written for adults (think Ludlum or Clancy). There's some drug and alcohol use and teenage sex, which makes the book an appropriate choice mostly for older teens. They'll find it a thrilling read that makes them think about what it really means to be free.

James Neal Webb is a '60s radical cleverly disguised as a middle-aged librarian.

They say home is where the heart is, but when your heart has been torn apart by death, divorce, betrayal and abandonment, where does that leave you? In Dana Reinhardt's new book for young adults, How to Build a House, we find out.

The story follows a teen volunteer, Harper, as she builds a house for a needy family and learns along the way that a home is much more than the sum of its four walls and a family does not necessarily include blood relatives. Reinhardt's smart, funny and poignant writing style strikes a chord of compassion and self-awareness as we follow this Los Angeles teen struggling to understand the complex relationships in her life: a loyal but faulty father, a loving but betrayed stepmother, an angry best friend/stepsister, a cheating boyfriend and a host of strangers she meets at a volunteer camp in a small Tennessee town. Harper, who is also a keen environmental activist, has chosen to spend her summer building houses in Bailey, a town that has been decimated by a killer tornado. Like the town of Bailey, Harper feels significantly affected by events beyond her control—and Reinhardt leads us bravely down this path of destruction and rebuilding.

The initial inspiration for the story came from a simple walk in her neighborhood, Reinhardt says from her home in Los Angeles. "A ton of new houses were going up in the area, and I was literally living with the sound of hammering all the time," she recalls. "It started me thinking about the permanency and the impermanency of home." Reinhardt, whose parents split when she was very young, has dealt with her own complex family relationships. "Family gets redefined across the course of one's life," she says, and sometimes it's hard to know exactly how to deal with the changing landscape. Although she grew up in the Los Angeles area, she spent much of her formative years in boarding school in Connecticut and then on to college at Vassar, followed by a short stint at New York University Law School before returning to her native California. There, she finally discovered her own definition of home: "I now have a husband and two children, and ultimately, I don't care where I live, as long as I'm with them," she writes on her website (danareinhardt.net).

Reinhardt turned to writing young adult novels after a varied series of pursuits that included working in the foster care system, being a fact-checker for a movie magazine and doing research for documentary films. Her first book for teens, A Brief Chapter in My Impossible Life (2006), won considerable acclaim and was followed by Harmless, the story of three teens trapped in their own web of lies, in 2007. Until she started writing How to Build a House, Reinhardt had been to Tennessee only once. "I had driven through, and I fell in love with the area," she says, but she had never spent any significant time there. "So much attention was being paid to post-Katrina New Orleans at the time I was starting the book, but it didn't feel quite right to me to have this take place in New Orleans," Reinhardt says. So she concentrated on the lesser-known disaster areas where a teen like Harper might find solace in volunteering. That's when she rediscovered Tennessee. For an author—and the L.A. teen she created—who has spent most of her life on either coast, the middle-America community of Bailey, Tennessee, was the perfect setting for this coming-of-age story. "The middle of the country is as foreign as any part of the world I can imagine," Reinhardt admits. The town itself was a creation of Reinhardt's imagination, but when she started researching the area, something strange happened. "I got to a place in my writing where I realized I needed to go back to Tennessee to get all of the details right, and as I was driving about an hour outside of Memphis, I realized there actually was a town just like I was writing about—except the people had all packed up and left." It was an eye-opening experience that convinced her she was definitely on the right track in terms of her setting.

As for volunteer work, Reinhardt sees it as something that benefits the participants as much as the recipients. "I think especially now, as kids are growing up in these pressure cookers, so focused on perfect grades, extracurricular activities and SAT scores, it's really important for them to step away and see what others are doing," she says. "There's something amazing about being far away from your comfort zone with your peers in the process of making the world better." Reinhardt's own theory of "home" will soon be put to the test again as she and her husband pack up their things and move from L.A. to San Francisco this summer. But if the saying—and Reinhardt's theory—is true, and home truly is where the heart is, she shouldn't have any problems finding her footing.

Heidi Henneman makes her home in New York City.

Sarah Dessen is a master of writing about relationships. And by "relationships," I don't just mean the girl-meets-boy fodder of so many other young adult novels. In previous books, Dessen has thoughtfully and probingly explored the intricacies of relationships between mothers and daughters, co-workers and many kinds of friends. In Lock and Key, Dessen's eighth novel, the relationship under the microscope is that of family.

Seventeen-year-old Ruby's family, though, is anything but ordinary, as she is painfully reminded every time she picks up her semester-long project, an oral history definition of the word "family." For almost as long as she can remember, "family" has meant Ruby and her drifting, unstable, alcoholic mother. Ruby barely remembers the father who left when she was five. She has even managed to mostly forget her sister Cora, who cut all ties with Ruby and their mother when she left for college. When Ruby's mother flies the coop for good, and Ruby is left to fend for herself, social services is called in. Overnight, Ruby's life changes completely—she moves in with her successful sister and brother-in-law, she enrolls at an elite private school, and she even makes friends with her next-door neighbor Nate, a jock whom she and her stoner friends at her old school would have disdained.

New environments mean new relationships, and before long, Ruby finds herself questioning not only the definition of "family" but also everything she's always believed to be true about herself. Dessen's novel gets its title from the key—to her old house and old life—that Ruby wears on a chain around her neck. Nearly every chapter ends with a compelling question or observation on Ruby's unlocking of others' good qualities and of her own potential.

Lock and Key is simultaneously an engaging coming-of-age story and an effective meditation on families—the ones we're born into and the ones we discover along the way.

Norah Piehl is a freelance writer and editor in the Boston area.

What if the only world you ever knew had a sky that was always blue, with puffy white clouds that never moved? What if every house on every street was exactly the same? What if your pets, your food, even your little sister arrived in a shipment from the dangerous, mysterious outside world—a world you had never seen? That's what life is like for Martin. He and his family have lived their entire lives in a domed "suburb," where neighbors gather for Sport Day and enjoy big meals (automatically selected by their slot-machine oven) on Rest Day. Their identical townhouses are decorated with pictures of seasonal flowers, and their school day is made up of endless drills conducted on handheld computers. Every morning, his parents use the family computer to vote on an issue of national concern, such as the color of the Oval Office's drapes.

Life in the suburb might seem orderly, but there's a darker side. What happens to the people who suddenly disappear? And why is the government threatening to recall the latest batch of Wonder Children, the precocious kids—like Martin's sister Cassie—who are asking too many questions? Martin might not have all the answers, but he is fiercely loyal to his sister, and he's determined to find her, even if it means leaving the domed world he's always known.

Clare B. Dunkle, author of the popular Hollow Kingdom fantasy trilogy, has created a richly imagined, thoroughly frightening society. Her novel takes place in a world much like our own, and its characters have believable strengths and weaknesses. Offering insightful commentaries into today's society and raising challenging questions about the future, The Sky Inside is the kind of science fiction novel that will encourage young readers to think about—and discuss—some of the larger issues in their own lives.

Norah Piehl is a writer and editor in the Boston area.

Fourteen-year-old Kayla Dean thought she had her future all mapped out. With the help of her Grandma JoJo and her best friend Rosalie, Kayla, a budding feminist, has been inspired to right wrongs through investigative journalism and to empower other young women through SPEAK (Sisters Providing Encouragement And Kindness). But now, as she's about to enter high school, Kayla's got a lot of questions. Is it so wrong to want to wear her This Is What a Feminist Looks Like t-shirt with a pair of really fabulous high heels? Would she be dishonoring her grandma's memory by choosing to tame her Afro just a little? And, most importantly, would it be the end of the world if Kayla, with her small breasts, queen-sized booty and incredible talent, made it onto the rump-shaking, super-sexy Lady Lions dance team and actually liked it?

Assigned to investigate the Lady Lions' sexist underpinnings, Kayla soon discovers that the team and its members are a lot more appealing than she had ever imagined. Can Kayla reconcile the two spheres of her life, mend fences with her staunchly feminist best friend and finally find her own voice? Along the way, Kayla just might end up re-defining feminism and herself on her own terms.

Kayla narrates her story with plenty of sass, energy and enthusiasm, and she's willing to laugh at her mistakes even as she struggles with her own internal conflicts. True to Kayla's journalistic ambitions, each chapter includes its own headline, just like a real newspaper story chronicling Kayla's mishaps and triumphs.

Few books for young readers take on feminism the way Sherri Winston does in The Kayla Chronicles. Kayla's story is sure to inspire young women to realize that feminists come in all shapes, sizes, colors and attitudes, and that before you can speak up for all women, you have to learn how to stick up for yourself.

Norah Piehl is a writer and editor in the Boston area.

The Wilder sisters love ballet. They lug their Capezio tote bags through the subway system to get to the Anna Pavlova Academy of Ballet, near Lincoln Center, to work up a sweat with pirouettes and arabesques. Their New York City lives are wrapped up in fashion, Starbucks lattes and their family's tiny apartment. But when Katie's older sister Michaela informs her that the family will be packing up for Fir Lake in rural upstate New York, the younger city girl is less than thrilled. Will there even be electricity in this Podunk town?

The Year My Sister Got Lucky is told in Katie's candid 14-year-old voice. She recounts how her overalls-wearing Fir Lake High School classmates perceive her decked out in a stylish blazer and bubble skirt on her first day of school in the new town. Making new friends is difficult for Katie, who misses her life back in the Big Apple, but Michaela is adjusting just fine: She instantly falls in with the popular group, takes up smoking, begins dating quarterback Anders Swensen and is crowned Homecoming Queen. Katie barely recognizes this new Michaela, and she misses the old days of heart-to-heart chats and dreaming about Julliard which Michaela hasn't even mentioned since the move to Fir Lake. The elder sister seems to have traded in her leotard and tights for parties with her new friends and dates with Anders. When Katie does a little snooping in Michaela's room, she learns a secret about her sister that makes her question the value of their relationship and just who this new version of her sister really is.

Teens will relate to Aimee Friedman's funny and believable story and the universal problems she presents: fitting into a new school, boys, an evolving sibling relationship, boys and what to do with the secrets you discover. The sisters make difficult choices that are not always right, but both adjust and Katie eventually finds that the move to Fir Lake may not have completely ruined her life after all.

Katie Lewis remains a wanna-be ballerina if only in her head.

It's 1875 and the wounds from the Civil War are still raw for the poor and struggling folks of Mississippi. The houses have been razed, the trees burned for fuel, and the men are injured, maimed and mired in sadness. Times are tough and life is full of danger from ruffians and vigilantes. The slaves have been freed, but they are just as tied to white landowners as they ever were. Across the swamp is a wooded no-man's-land called No-Bob, populated by the O'Donnells, a family known for their cruelty, bloodthirstiness and constant unpleasant presence, usually begging for money and food. They marry young, bear children and marry them off to each other.

Addy's father is the meanest and fiercest of all the O'Donnells, and when he leaves his wife and heads for Texas, his bereft wife abandons her daughter to follow him. This leaves Addy in the care of newlyweds Frank and Irene, the schoolmaster and his wife. Addy's extremely rough upbringing has prepared her well she knows how to build a fire, keep a house, build a shed and keep herself alive on next to no food. When her father resurfaces, stealing eggs from Frank's chicken coop, Addy must return to No-Bob with him. Pappy. He is bad and mean and dangerous, but he is still my Pappy, she says. When Addy discovers a devastating secret about her father and his connection to the violence that is running rampant in the area, she makes the hardest decision of her life.

In this sequel to her Civil War novel, How I Found the Strong, Margaret McMullan has created a deeply philosophical, first-person account of life in the Reconstruction era that is heartbreaking and uplifting at the same time. Echoes of the present are impossible to miss life under occupation, the reaction of the insurgent Klan, and aching poverty. It's the kind of book I love, one that makes me want to read everything McMullan has written. Twice.

Newbery Medal winner Linda Sue Park starts it all with a girl named Maggie; her grief for her grandfather, world-renowned photojournalist George Gee Keane; and her inheritance, a puzzling wooden box of seven shells. Simply titled Click, this collaborative novel to benefit Amnesty International continues Gee's adventures in chapters written by 10 critically acclaimed authors from the United States, Canada, the United Kingdom and Australia, including Eoin Colfer, Tim Wynne-Jones, Ruth Ozeki, Nick Hornby and Gregory Maguire.

Gee loves the feeling of moving through the world, light and free, moving through other people's stories. This love takes him to a Russian prison just after the breakup of the Soviet Union, where he meets Lev, a 17-year-old inmate incarcerated for simply trying to survive in his war-torn country. He meets other young people during his global travels, such as Vincent in Dublin for the 1972 Muhammad Ali fight at Croke Park and Jiro in Tokyo while photographing the victims of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki atomic bombs.

Gee makes the biggest impact, however, on his own family. Maggie, through her study of Gee's works, and her adopted brother, Jason, through his own budding career as a photographer, discover Gee's never-ending mysteries and the power of photography. Throughout the novel, this power has a way of recognizing and healing grief and abuse, forming identity and family, and finding understanding and even joy in a time of war.

While readers might expect a folktale-like narrative from a writer like David Almond, an irreverent working-class family from Roddy Doyle or a magical, parallel world from Margo Lanagan, they couldn't possibly predict how each author will weave details from previous chapters into his or her own part of the story. The chapters, like single snapshots, form an exhibition of Gee's life, at times mystical or heart-wrenching, at other times amusing or fantastical, but always intriguing.

Angela Leeper is an educational consultant and writer in Wake Forest, North Carolina.

It is rewarding as a reader to encounter a unique story, and Jenny Downham's Before I Die is one such find. Downham has constructed a teen novel that is neither overly sweet nor patronizing—instead, Before I Die offers a candid and piercing view of the way a teenager's mind works.

Tessa, a 16-year-old battling cancer, makes a list of the things she wants to experience before her life ends: Sex, drugs and love are all on the agenda. There is no surprise happy ending here, but the journey of the novel itself is emotionally surprising. Tessa is sarcastic, rude and bitter—all that we expect a teenager to be—yet as the novel progresses, her anger at her failing health evolves into an appreciation of the smaller joys life presents. She notices the way the sunlight looks in her tea, appreciates the taste of kiwi and hears someone moving dishes in the kitchen.

Downham's prose is poetic, and her images are vivid. The reader sees Tessa, hears her breathe, experiences her first love and holds her hand as her body gives up. The most remarkable relationship in the novel is that of Tessa and her next-door neighbor, Adam. Though the romantic relationship is initiated and determined by the strong-willed narrator, it is an extraordinary pairing. Adam is patient with Tessa's fluctuating consciousness toward the end, and he remains by her side throughout night sweats, hospital stays and final moments. Their hearts seem to have known one another for an impossibly long time, and it is this blending of the soul where the edges of each individual are indecipherable that is the most devastating aspect of Tessa's demise.

This is an exceptional story, one that will bring tears to the eyes of adults as well as younger readers. The novel moves relentlessly toward the brink and develops a set of unforgettable characters. I am pleased to have known Tessa—as I feel that I have—and I am carrying her with me.

Katie Lewis is a student at Saint Louis University.