Sixteen-year-old Izzy is content with her life—or, at least, she’s trying to be. As the younger sibling to a boisterous pair of twins, the daughter of distracted parents and the girlfriend of a popular and somewhat clingy boyfriend, Izzy tries to fit in wherever she can. That mostly means remaining silent and fading into the background, whether at school, at home or with the people she calls her friends.

So when Izzy accidentally and unwittingly stumbles into a comedy club, she seizes the opportunity to finally express herself. She forms genuine friendships with other young people she meets at the club who are as passionate about stand-up as she is and begins to build a new life outside the routine she’s always known. But keeping her two lives separate proves challenging, and Izzy is forced to reckon with who she really is and what she wants to stand for.

Katie Henry’s third novel, This Will Be Funny Someday, is a vibrant and engaging coming-of-age story. The book plunges readers into Izzy’s life as she faces new experiences and hurdles that shape her identity, from her relationship with her boyfriend to her role in her family. Told from Izzy’s perspective, the novel is shaped by her unique point of view—a perspective that’s still growing into itself. The book’s dynamic cast of characters, including not just Izzy’s friends from the club but also her former best friend, Naomi, introduce realistic conflicts that readers will find both captivating and truthful, from sexism and racism to repairing a broken bond.

Izzy’s story is about growth just as much as it is about success, and Henry demonstrates how she is subject to the consequences of her actions as well as worthy of her triumphs. Honest and hopeful, This Will Be Funny Someday will resonate with readers who crave characters who are authentic in both their struggles and their victories.

It’s the year 2043, and deadly swarms of bioengineered flies have devastated the human population over the past 18 years. Even if a person’s flesh isn’t completely consumed by the swarms, infections can remain dormant for years. Survivors call it the Fly Flu.

Young people, like 18-year-old Nico and 12-year-old Kit, don’t remember a time before the Fly Flu. As the novel opens, they don’t know each other yet, but they have quite a bit in common. They’ve both grown up in small families in New England, and they’re both afraid that their parents are on the verge of succumbing to latent infections. Kit’s beloved mother, Dakota, has been acting increasingly tired and confused. Nico’s mother has already died, and she fears her father may be close behind. Circumstances conspire to spur Nico and Kit to leave the homes they’ve always known—and as they pursue their destinies, to find one another.

David Arnold’s The Electric Kingdom is a mind-blowing blend of post-apocalyptic fantasy, science fiction and time-travel saga. In an author’s note, Arnold writes, “I’ve spent most of my writing career exploring the metaphorical ways in which art and story can save us, so I suppose it was only a matter of time before I explored their literal saving graces as well.” Indeed, stories form the backbone of Arnold’s engrossing novel, whether they are read in familiar books or written in new chronicles, told around campfires or conveyed in works of visual art. Alternating between the perspectives of Kit, Nico and the enigmatic “Deliverer,” whose identity remains unknown until close to the novel’s end, The Electric Kingdom incorporates themes of journeys and the unknown, which Arnold has explored in earlier books. 

The Electric Kingdom satisfyingly blends elements of several genres, making it a perfect choice for readers who don’t gravitate toward genre fiction but enjoy novels that explore philosophical questions, such as science versus religion, or tales of survival in dangerous circumstances. It’s also a deeply emotional story. Powerful scenes capture devastating sadness and loss, while offering a tentative glimpse of hope even when it seems fruitless. It’s the kind of novel worth re-reading—and readers will find something new to appreciate about it with each return.

Carey Parker has a showstopping singing voice just like their idol and namesake, the legendary Mariah Carey. But as a genderqueer teenager who’s faced bullying at school from classmates and teachers alike, Carey has learned to avoid the spotlight and the negative attention it draws.

When Carey’s voice catches the ear of Cris, a cute and talented musician, Cris encourages Carey to try out for their school’s upcoming production of the musical Wicked. Carey should be a shoo-in for the lead role of Elphaba, the misunderstood Wicked Witch of the West, but they’re reluctant to audition, as their confidence still hasn’t recovered from their best friend Joey’s cold reaction to their coming out. Landing the role turns out to be only the beginning of the battle, as a bigoted teacher tries to force Carey and the director out of the musical entirely.

Though Carey takes center stage in Can’t Take That Away, debut author Steven Salvatore surrounds them with characters who demonstrate the vital role that support networks play in the lives of queer teens. From the book’s opening scene, in which Carey’s favorite teacher gives them color-coded bracelets to “express their gender identity on any given day,” Carey and their friends constantly help each other grow and fight together for what they believe in. Aspiring fashion designer Monroe crafts Carey the perfect audition outfit for maximum confidence, while Carey’s therapist patiently works with them to uncover the root of their fears. Although the book’s antagonists sometimes behave with almost cartoonish prejudice, it’s still satisfying when Carey and their friends band together to oppose them.

Music is also central in Can’t Take That Away, and Salvatore excels at describing how it grounds and connects Carey to the world. Sometimes music is a source of comfort for Carey, as when they recite Mariah Carey trivia to help them get through panic attacks. Other times, however, it’s a source of bittersweet pain. Carey shares their love of music with their grandmother, whose health has deteriorated and who can no longer sing along with the songs they used to perform together. The book is filled with big emotions that swell and crash with all the drama of the artists Salvatore frequently name-drops. Even readers unfamiliar with the musical references will be able to understand Carey’s emotional connections to them as they belt songs out with passion.

In the climactic confrontation with the school’s administration over its discriminatory behavior, Salvatore’s characters stand up for their rights with clarity and conviction. There’s an admirably practical emphasis on creating tangible, actionable change, rather than settling for empty promises or rhetoric. As empowering as it is entertaining, Salvatore’s debut novel hits all the right notes.

It’s rare to encounter a YA novel that so vividly depicts a high-achieving, overly self-reflective teenager (like myself at that age, or my similarly overachieving, overly self-reflective high school friends). Even more rare is a YA book that expands what the entire category of YA literature can be. Kelly Loy Gilbert’s astonishing When We Were Infinite is both.

Senior year is a time of lasts for Beth: her last time doing AP bio homework; her last youth symphony showcase performance; her last time hanging out and laughing at everything and nothing with her four best friends, Jason, Brandon, Sunny and Grace. Preparing for her Juilliard audition leads to a lot of late nights, but somehow Beth always finds time for her friends, planning the perfect homecoming evening for them, for instance, or helping Sunny check out “crafternoon” at the LGBTQ community center.

When something terrible happens to Jason, Beth desperately wants to make everything all right again. Her concern for Jason, as well as her fear of being separated from her friends, weigh heavily on her, and the new beginnings that beckon beyond graduation begin to fill her with dread rather than excited anticipation. Will Beth ever feel as electric, as real, as infinite as she does right now, in this moment, surrounded by the friends she loves?

YA is, by definition, a literature of immediacy. Explorations of family dynamics and life transitions as well as the search to find and claim one’s own identity and agency have always been staples of the category. When We Were Infinite uses these themes as starting points but brings them expansively into the 21st century. Gilbert’s characters’ experiences reflect issues that include gender, sexuality, race, class and mental health, and in every moment, these experiences feel vital and organic to both the characters and the larger story. 

Microaggressions are ignored but remembered. Romances start and end. College applications are submitted, and decisions are made. And as for my own high school friends? We group-texted earlier today about this book.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Kelly Loy Gilbert reveals the central question in everything she writes.

Darcy Phillips is a love guru. Through her top-secret relationship counseling service—she emails advice in response to notes her classmates pass discreetly into long abandoned locker number 89—Darcy can solve any romantic woe, no matter how epic or seemingly trivial. 

When popular senior Alexander Brougham spots Darcy opening the locker, however, he quickly pieces together her secret, putting both her business and her reputation at risk. Darcy agrees to help Brougham win back his ex-girlfriend in exchange for his silence, but the task will put her relationship knowledge to the test in more ways than one.

Sophie Gonzales’ Perfect on Paper effortlessly conveys the complex web of social interactions that high school students navigate every day. Darcy’s frank, thoughtful and not quite self-aware narration is captivating and genuine, an authentic depiction of young adulthood in the 21st century. Teen readers will connect with Darcy’s struggles, cheer for her relationships, cringe at her missteps and maybe even take a piece of advice from locker 89 to heart.

Gonzales’ novel also admirably reflects recent shifts in the representation of LGBTQ+ characters in YA literature. By including both queer and transgender characters whose sexuality and gender identity are neither their defining trait nor the source of the conflicts that drive their narratives, Gonzales reflects the lived experiences of teens today and delivers a relatable read with multiple points of identification.

Heartfelt, witty and thoroughly entertaining, Perfect on Paper is an enthralling tale of young love and the joy, heartbreak and growth it brings.

It’s 1959, and 17-year-old Mazie Butterfield dreams of becoming a Broadway star—no easy feat for a Nebraska farm girl who waitresses as a carhop for meager tips. When her beloved grandmother dies and leaves her a small inheritance, Mazie breaks up with her boyfriend, Jesse, and heads to New York City. 

Mazie knows getting a part in a Broadway musical will be tough, but she’s not prepared for the callousness of show business. Before she’s even opened her mouth to sing, casting directors dismiss her for her broad stature, freckles and quaint surname. Just when her money runs out, she gets a part in a traveling stage production that puts her at odds with a lecherous director. Mazie always knew that running toward a dream would be hard; she just never realized the heart she’d break could be her own.

The farm girl with big-city dreams is a classic Hollywood trope that feels fresh and contemporary in Melanie Crowder’s capable hands. The titular protagonist of Mazie is hardworking, if a tad naive. She’s open to new experiences, including getting acquainted with Broadway’s underground gay scene. Her confrontations with men who abuse their positions ring frustratingly true even in our #MeToo era. 

The conflict between Mazie and Jesse highlights the tough choices faced by those who seek stardom, leaving behind family and friends and altering their appearances and even their names to appease audiences. Although Mazie is white and Christian, she is asked to lose weight and slough off her country manners in order to be more palatable to Broadway producers. Crowder has clearly done her research as she brings the golden age of musical theater to life, but readers may find themselves just as nostalgic for the quiet life of a small Nebraska farm as for glitzy, postwar Manhattan by the time they finish Mazie’s story.

Rue is content with life in her childhood home in Houston, where she lives with her mother and younger sister. But after her mother’s unexpected death, her long-absent father returns and takes Rue to Ghizon, a secret, distant island where every citizen can use magic. Rue must integrate herself into Ghizon’s mysterious and rigid magical society, far from the only home she’s ever known.

When Rue escapes Ghizon to visit her sister, she sets off a chain of events that transcends realms and reveals the truth of Rue’s identity as half human, half god. With strength and determination, she rises to confront evil.

Wings of Ebony presents a fresh and complex take on the “chosen one” trope. Honest and often humorous as she explores what it means to balance her magic and her humanity, Rue retains a cutting, clear voice no matter what she’s facing, and her personality often eclipses the magical world around her. 

As Rue paints a vibrant picture of her life in Houston, she’s as critical of her hometown’s systemic racism as she is nostalgic for her neighbor’s cooking. Eventually she learns to recognize the beauty of her magical heritage, too, and she is just as vocal about the racism, colonialism and privilege that plague Ghizon. She is determined to survive, succeed and protect her loved ones, whether they’re from Houston or Ghizon.

Thanks to her fiery nature, Rue develops dynamic relationships with the rest of the novel’s characters. Some see her as an enemy, but others stand beside her to fight for justice. By conveying all of these perspectives, Wings of Ebony asks readers to reflect honestly on their own beliefs and where they would stand. 

Debut author J. Elle’s depiction of a young woman embracing the seemingly conflicting sides of her identity is masterful and moving. Bursting with insight, a deeply felt sense of community and an imaginative magic system, Wings of Ebony tells a thrilling, fast-paced story that illuminates serious issues and is sure to resonate with readers.

Nicole Lesperance blends crystalline prose, an atmospheric setting and memorable characters to create a story that dances and shines as brightly as the northern lights in her debut YA novel, The Wide Starlight.

Eli has always known her life should have been different. She should have grown up in the frozen landscape of Svalbard, a group of islands north of Norway, where she was born. She would speak Norwegian and her mother’s family would call her by her full name, Eline. Instead, she lives with her American father on Cape Cod, where everyone calls her Eli and she has lost all familiarity with the language she once called her own. The biggest difference, however, and the loss Eli feels most acutely, is her mother’s absence. Ever since the night she carried 6-year-old Eli out onto a frozen fjord, whistled at the multicolored aurora in the sky and flew away, Eli has felt a gaping hole where her mother should be. 

So when her mother suddenly reappears, Eli is overwhelmed and unsure how she should act or feel. Then weird, inexplicable occurrences begin to happen all around town that may be linked to her mother’s return, and before Eli can begin to piece together what’s going on, her mother vanishes again. Desperate for answers, Eli journeys to Svalbard, but more than family secrets may be waiting for her under the ice.

Lesperance’s story has a breathtakingly frosty atmosphere that’s anchored by her descriptions of the icy world of Eli’s childhood, which is both enchanting and unforgivingly harsh. The author just as vividly evokes the ostensibly mundane contemporary setting of Cape Cod, immersing readers in a seaside landscape dotted with scrubby pine forests. When Eli travels to Norway, readers will practically feel the bitter sting of the frigid air, hear the crunch of packed snow underfoot and see the brilliant gleam of sunlight reflecting off the ice. 

Both locations are perfect choices for a story imbued with magic and wonder. Yet for all its trappings of snow-swept fantasy, what lies at the glowing core of The Wide Starlight is the deep and sacred bond between mother and daughter, as Lesperance explores the lengths to which that bond can stretch and still remain intact. 

Tamsin is a witch, but unlike other witches her age, she has spent the last five years banished from the witches’ land of Within, cursed to never feel love as punishment for a terrible deed. Now she ekes out a lonely existence as a harsh, callous village witch among the Ordinary folk. 

Wren is a source: someone who is magic but cannot use magic. But unlike other sources, she didn’t travel to Within when her magic appeared, as the witches’ governing coven requires. Instead, she stayed behind to care for her ailing father, hiding the evidence of her relationship to magic as best she could. 

When a dark plague sweeps across the land, Tamsin hopes to return to Within and hunt for the witch who cast it, potentially earning the right to return home. Determined to rescue her father from the plague, Wren seeks Tamsin’s aid. The girls strike a bargain and set off to Within. 

The romantic arc of Sweet & Bitter Magic trods an enjoyable if well-worn “opposites attract” path. Chapters alternate between Tamsin’s and Wren’s perspectives, and each young woman exhibits both flaws and growth that readers will find relatable, perhaps even healing. Tamsin must outgrow her tendency to be selfish and let go of her guilt over her past mistakes, while Wren struggles to prioritize her own desires and develop confidence in her own abilities. 

Debut author Adrienne Tooley’s magical system of witches and sources is simple but intriguing, and the novel’s setting evokes a mix of European fairy tales and medieval society. The land of Within is filled with such strange and vivid imagery that readers will be reluctant to leave it behind. With its combination of fresh and familiar elements and two heroines whose emotional journeys are sure to resonate, Sweet & Bitter Magic is a treat for readers who loved the queer fantasy of Melissa Bashardoust’s Girls Made of Snow and Glass and the atmospheric, witchy vibes of Peternelle van Arsdale’s The Beast Is an Animal. 

When you see “Relevant Maps” listed as the first item in City of the Uncommon Thief’s table of contents, you know you’re in for an epic story. What you won’t know until you finish reading, however, is that Lynne Bertrand’s first young adult novel is not only a sprawling work of precise storytelling, but also a literary Rubik’s cube—frustrating at times, but surprisingly fun. 

You should prepare for two hurdles before you begin reading. First, Bertrand’s prose is dense and tricky; you may find yourself consulting a dictionary as you read. Second, Bertrand has very little interest in exposition, so although she has created a vibrant world and an unusual parlance in which its characters speak, she will not hold your hand as she pushes you headfirst over its precipice.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Lynne Bertrand reveals the inspiration behind the unique world of City of the Uncommon Thief.

Bertrand’s titular city is unnamed and has been quarantined from the rest of the world for a long time. The city itself is composed of a thousand towers, linked together by a crisscrossing web of zip lines that teenage runners use to travel from roof to roof. We see this new world through the eyes of Odd Thebes, a wisecracking, self-pitying bard who loves books, girls and being the smartest guy in the room. His cousin Errol Thebes is as swashbuckling as his Hollywood namesake; he’s handsome, arrogant and always ready to play the hero. When the cousins give Jamila Foundling, a mysterious servant, the task of hiding an unusual and potentially powerful stolen object, the three teens become entrenched in a tangled tale of magic, lies and the dark reality of life below the towers. 

Bertrand dangles revelations around every corner and has twists and turns to spare. The satisfaction of seeing the puzzle pieces of her story come together, of witnessing her trio of heroes learn what’s inside of them and who they really are, proves a satisfying reward for the reader’s hard work. City of the Uncommon Thief is genre-defying fiction at its finest, and Bertrand sticks the landing on a book that knows no fear.

Nala’s priorities for the summer before her senior year do not include activism, but they do include finding love. So when she begrudgingly tags along to an Inspire Harlem event with her cousin Imani and meets charismatic Tye Brown, she decides an interest in social justice might not be so bad after all. But as she feigns a full slate of volunteer commitments and an in-depth knowledge of social movements (not to mention a vegetarian diet), Nala quickly realizes she’s in over her head. Her relationship with Imani becomes strained, and she finds herself sacrificing more and more of her real self in exchange for Tye’s love. As her lies finally unravel, Nala learns that loving herself is the real revolution.

In Love Is a Revolution, Newbery Honor author Renée Watson (Piecing Me Together) spins a fresh teen love story. Though Nala and Tye’s budding romance takes center stage for much of the book, readers are most likely to see themselves in Nala’s relationships with her friends, her family and herself. From Nala’s efforts to impress Tye by achieving a “Black-girl-natural chic look,” to her secret ice-cream-and-advice meetings with her grandmother’s boyfriend, to her feminist dance parties with her friend Sadie, Watson builds this book on small, detailed moments that bring each character into focus. The authenticity and specificity of these relationships make the growing rift between Nala and Imani feel real and immediate as both girls learn to love themselves and each other.

Nala’s lies are eventually exposed, forcing her to reckon with who she actually is versus what she wants others to believe about her. Watson handles this moment with respect and nuance, propelling Nala to the right path without pretending the journey will be easy. Readers who have struggled with identifying who they are or who they’re supposed to be, navigating evolving relationships or practicing “radical self-love” will find Love Is a Revolution to be an inspiring guide—not to mention a delightful read.

ALSO IN BOOKPAGE: Love Is a Revolution author Renée Watson shares the story behind the book's title and reveals what she and her protagonist have in common.