It’s been 10 years since Laurie Halse Anderson burst onto the literary scene with her powerful debut novel, Speak. Now Anderson is back with her fifth novel, one whose raw emotion, troubling subject matter and indelible images will further cement her reputation as one of the best young adult authors writing today.

Although Anderson’s theme is eating disorders, Wintergirls is a far cry from the kind of popular “problem novels” about anorexia and bulimia that seem to flood bookstore shelves. Instead, Anderson simultaneously explores both the brutally isolating self-loathing experienced by those suffering from these diseases and the twisted “support” that girls with eating disorders offer each other, encouragement that often spirals into mutual self-destruction.

At the center of Wintergirls is Lia, a high school senior who has already been hospitalized twice for anorexia. Now living with her father, stepmother and stepsister to avoid conflict with her overbearing mother, Lia has managed to keep her whole family in a state of denial.

Inside, though, Lia is in crisis. Her longtime best friend, Cassie, died the night she called Lia 33 times, each voice mail more desperate than the last. Lia ignored every one and is now wracked with guilt. The two girls had a difficult relationship, both of them locked in a dangerous pact to be the skinniest girl in school.

Tear-jerker novels and books of pop psychology might lead many to believe that there are simple, straightforward reasons why girls develop eating disorders. In her typically thoughtful style, Laurie Halse Anderson reveals that, in many cases, the motivations are far more complex, nuanced and dangerous. With naked emotion, brutal honesty and a narrative that’s simultaneously captivating and claustrophobic, Wintergirls gives readers a haunting window into the disordered thinking behind eating disorders.

Like most 12 year olds, Mibs (short for Mississippi) Beaumont is looking forward to her 13th birthday. But in the Beaumont family, this means a lot more than just becoming a teenager at last. On her special day, Mibs will discover her very own "savvy," her special, paranormal power.

Before that fateful day, Mibs can only speculate what her savvy will be. It might be a bit overwhelming, like her brother Fish’s tendency to cause terrible weather. It might be electric through and through, just like her brother Rocket’s power. Or it might be gentle, like her mother’s gift of making everything turn out, well, perfect.

But just before Mibs’ big day, her beloved poppa is in a traffic accident. Her mother and Rocket drive off to be with him (Rocket is needed to power the old station wagon!), leaving the rest of the family with Grandpa Bomba (whose savvy is, well, making new places. Where do you think the entire state of Idaho came from, anyway?).

When Mibs suspects her savvy might help Poppa wake up, she has to find a way to get the 90 miles to Salina, Kansas, even if it means commandeering the pink bus of the Heartland Bible Supply company. And if Mibs thinks she can undertake this journey alone, well, fate would have it otherwise.

Mibs is destined to share the ride not just with the Bible delivery-man, Lester, but with the preacher’s kids, the snooty Bobbi and the sweet Will Junior. And then of course there’s a small stowaway, her moody little brother, Samson. And that’s just the beginning!

During this event-filled journey, Mibs discovers that her savvy—along with her first impressions about people—might be different than she expected. She also comes to realize that although the Beaumonts have often been outcasts, it’s possible to find community in unexpected places.

Ingrid Law’s debut novel Savvy is already a hit with tween readers and is being mentioned as a Newbery contender. If you thought the road trip in the film Little Miss Sunshine was wild, hold onto your hat! Or better yet, open up Savvy and settle in for a delightful read.

Inspired by the real-life stories of Nat "Deadwood Dick" Love, a famous black cowboy and former slave who penned his own adventures in 1907, Helen Hemphill's latest novel features a young teen with a zeal for the Wild West. Prometheus Jones, like his mythical namesake, possesses a wily intelligence that often tests the powers above. Known for his sharp-shooting, horse-riding skills and his streak of good luck, he wins Good Eye, a half-blind black stallion, in a raffle. When the Dill brothers accuse him of stealing their raffle ticket, however, Prometheus and his 11-year-old cousin, Omer (short for Homer), hightail it west.

Ever since Prometheus learned that his father was sold to a man in Texas, he's been determined to go there. The boys find a way, albeit a roundabout one, to Texas, as they take part in a cattle drive that will deliver 3,000 steers to Deadwood, Dakota Territory, just in time for the 100th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. While the trek allows for moments of humorous and heartwarming camaraderie among his Hispanic, Irish and fellow African-American companions, Prometheus also experiences buffalo stampedes, the deaths of friends and other cowboy hardships. And while Pawnee and Sioux Indian raids are a constant threat, the boy empathizes with their outsider status in their own land. Once a victim of prejudice, Prometheus finds that hard work rather than color sets him apart during the cattle drive. With a little luck left, the boy makes a name for himself (literally and figuratively) during a shooting competition. Even the Dill brothers' return —or the truth about his father—can't deter him from his goal.

Hemphill lassos readers with her gift for dialogue and nail – biting scenes of danger, and holds them with fascinating descriptions of cowboy life and clever historical references, such as a near – escape from braves fatigued from their victory over Custer at Little Big Horn. For a high-spirited tale of courage, talent and passion, gather 'round the campfire!

Normal. Natural. These are words that Katsa would never, could never use to describe herself. How could she be considered normal when she shudders at the thought of falling in love or having a baby? And then there’s her unique talent, the one that has brought her infamy through seven kingdoms. If that’s not unnatural, what is?

Throughout the kingdoms, there are people gifted with Graces, known as Gracelings. They can be identified by their different-colored eyes and, more importantly, by the unique, almost magical gifts that set them apart from mere mortals. Others have Graces of drawing, singing, dancing, even swimming. So why is Katsa fated to have the most fearsome Grace of all—the Grace of killing?

Katsa’s Grace was discovered when, as a young girl, she accidentally killed a relative who made unwanted physical advances. Since then, her life has been marked by the fear and aversion of others, even as she’s spent her entire youth learning to control her urges and master her terrible gift. But Katsa’s uncle, the ruler of the middle kingdom, also has learned to control Katsa, and she spends her days helping him enact his reign of terror. Katsa has found small ways to rebel, but she has seen few ways to escape her uncle’s tyranny for good. That is, until she meets Po, a prince from the island kingdom of Lienid, and a Graceling himself. Po’s unique Grace seems to make him both Katsa’s ideal dueling partner and, perhaps, the only man who could break through Katsa’s fortifications and into her heart.

Graceling is the first novel in a new series by first-time novelist Kristin Cashore, and it marks the debut of an intriguing new fantasy world and a fantasy author to watch. Cashore strikes a strong balance between adventure, drama and romance—bloody battles and sexual tension co-exist in equal measure—and Katsa’s combination of pride in her unique talents and vulnerability in her self-doubts make her a strongly sympathetic character. Readers will identify closely with this young woman, whose coming of age also involves coming to terms with a talent that is both a blessing and a curse.

Norah Piehl is a writer and editor who lives near Boston.

Josh Connors lives in the 19th century; well, not literally, but he might as well. The eighth-grader is a resident of Harper’s Ferry, Virginia, a little town whose stock-in-trade is the fact that in 1859 a preacher-turned-revolutionary attempted to capture the Union Army ammunition depot housed there in order to precipitate a slave rebellion. That man was the famous (or infamous, depending on how you look at it) John Brown.

This historical link is more than an idle plot device in the haunting new novel for teens, The Night I Freed John Brown. Author John Michael Cummings cleverly draws parallels between the fanatical Brown and his loyal sons, and Josh’s dysfunctional family. Josh’s father, Bill Connors, is a beaten, bitter man, and everything in his life reflects this, from his lack of pride in himself and his home, a period house overgrown with trees, trash and weeds, to his hateful, almost evil treatment of his wife and three sons.

Josh’s involvement with the well-to-do new neighbors, the Richmonds, triggers a reaction in his father that makes his previous treatment of the family seem mild, and his subsequent interaction with his ex-con cousin Ricky and the new priest at St. Peter’s down the block makes things even worse. His decision to defy his father and appear as one of John Brown’s sons in a play sets off a chain of events that threatens to tear his family apart. A happy ending doesn’t appear very likely.

The Night I Freed John Brown succeeds on many levels; it’s a deeply affecting story of a young man’s efforts to break free from an abusive parent, a look at life inside a national historic site and something of a mystery to boot. Cummings brings out the all too often ignored point that sometimes parents don’t tell kids everything, and that ignorance can alter how we see things. Finally, it subtly, but firmly, tells us that we have to make our own happy endings, and that life will go on, whether we like it or not. That’s quite an achievement for any book, regardless of genre.

James Neal Webb’s favorite historical site is Gettysburg, Pennsylvania.

It’s 1944 and everyone is doing their part for the war effort. While her mother and sister roll bandages for the Red Cross, 18-year-old Bernadette “Byrd” Thompson sneaks out of their poor, small-town Iowa home and hops a train to Sweetwater, Texas. In Skies Over Sweetwater, an absorbing coming-of-age novel by Julia Moberg, the insecure teen joins the elite Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASP) training program at Avenger Field.

By donning oversized men’s overalls (aka “zoot suits”), suffering through morning calisthenics, studying meteorology and Morse code, and learning to fly trainers, utility planes, bombers and other aircraft, the WASPs free up men for combat overseas. Byrd is eager to share these exhilarating experiences with Sadie, a spunky, college-educated Oklahoman; Opal, a Chinatown native who elicits many stares; and even “Miss Peach” Cornelia, the smug socialite from Atlanta. But she’s not ready to divulge what happened eight years ago: her father’s accidental death while performing an aerial dive and her own narrow escape from the broken plane.

Byrd’s passion never wavers, but still harboring guilt and fear over her father’s tragedy, she questions her ability to fly among the nation’s best, especially during the required training dives. When another disastrous event turns into a heroic, life-saving act, the young woman is finally able to prove to her commander, her selfish training partner, the men who scoff at women pilots – and most importantly, to herself – that she can succeed. And when not flying or catching the local rattlesnakes, Byrd just might capture the heart of Lt. Andrews, an instructor with a secret of his own.

From Victory Gardens to butter rations to lines drawn on the back of women’s legs to look like nylon stockings, Moberg includes many details that allow readers to understand Byrd’s time in history. The teen’s struggles and achievements form an inspiring portrayal of America’s first military-trained female pilots, bringing this often forgotten part of history to light and showing that men were not the only ones risking their lives during World War II.

Angela Leeper prefers life on the ground in Wake Forest, North Carolina.

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.