If You Have A Box Of Baby-Sitter's Club Books At Your Mom's House, You Need This Book

In the '80s and '90s, teen romances were big business. Like, seriously big. In 1979, Scholastic published the first book in the series that arguably started the trend — Wildfire — and by 1982, it had sold two million copies. In 1981, Random House, inspired by their competitor's success, launched their own teen romance series called Sweet Dreams. It had a first run of 150,000 copies, the same as the first run for John Green's The Fault In Our Stars in 2012.

But what's perhaps most surprising about the teen romance trend wasn't that it happened (yeah, duh, teenagers fall in love – Romeo & Juliet, heard of 'em?) but that it was actually kind of progressive.

"Despite being romances, a vast number of these books explore the pitfalls of relationships as much as the highlights, suggesting that dating for status is a soul-killing endeavor, that the popular jock you lust over might actually be a total buzzkill once you get to know him, and that romance is about respect and compatibility, not the buzz of smooching the captain of the football team," Moss writes, adding: "These weren't just naive books that prevented that teen sexuality stopped at French kissing; they were also fresh formulas infused with the lessons of second-wave feminism."

OK, you probably remember when every YA series was about a "club" and you probably remember that a lot of them were... pretty dumb. And in terms of diversity... well, a few them had twins? But as is normally the case, the whole "clubs trend" actually provided space for the inclusion of characters who weren't white girls from the suburbs.

"Finally, lest you write off all club book series as frivolous, there were in fact, a handful that addressed topics more substantial than French-braiding," Moss writes. "The NEATE series, put out by African American publisher Just Us Books between 1992 and 1994, had its mixed-gender group of members — that'd be Naimah, Elizabeth, Anthony, Tayesha, and Eddie, aka NEATE — join forces to deal with pressing social issues, like helping Naimah's mother win a city council race against an unrepentant racist, raising awareness about gerrymandering, or saving a refugee shelter from closure. The magic of NEATE is that the books didn't save this stuff for a Very Special Edition; they mixed social concerns in with more traditional middle grade stories about talent shows and demanding parents."

There were a few obvious trends in the teen fic of '80s and '90s teen lit: horror, friendship, twins, clubs, and, of course, babysitting. Moss writes about each of these in-depth, but in one especially hilarious snippet of the book she describes a book series that combined the horror of R.L. Stine's Goosebumps with the feel-good vibes of Ann Martin's Baby-Sitter's Club: The Samantha Slade series.

"Aspiring tween babysitter Samantha earns the princely sum of $6 an hour to watch her supernatural charges, including a werewolf, a telekinetic, and the world's widdlest mad scientist," Moss writes. "Despite all this, her adventures are relatively low-key; Samantha gets accidentally turned into a frog for a while, then starts a band with a vampire, but no one gets torn limb from limb by a pack of blood-lusting were-babies."

I feel like this could definitely get a reboot as a CW series, but with sexy vampire older brothers.

An entire chapter of Paperback Crush is dedicated to teen books that tackled serious issues: sexual assault, drug abuse, chronic illness, etc. It's no laughing matter — and one section, in particular, is intensely horrifying: The story behind Lois Duncan's nonfiction book, Who Killed My Daughter?

You probably recognize Duncan as the acclaimed teen horror novelist who wrote I Know What You Did Last Summer. But in 1989, she lived through her own horror story when her 18-year-old daughter, Kaitlyn Arquette, was found dead in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Law enforcement called it an accident (she was killed in a drive-by shooting) but Duncan didn't believe it. She continued to investigate her daughter's killing until her own death in 2016, and only published one YA novel after the tragedy. Kaitlyn's murder is still an open investigation.

Described by Moss as the "Xtina to Judy Blume's Britney," author Norma Klein dealt with just as many tough issues as Judy Blume, including teenage pregnancy and abortion. The history of abortion in teen fic is fraught, but writers like Klein pushed the pro-choice movement forward in revolutionary ways. "Blume gets the glory, but Klein, who passed away in 1989, did as much to push YA to its limits, and her more complicated messages might be why she's less widely hailed," Moss writes. "Judy's girls found pleasure in their bodies. Norma's girls learned that bodies were sites of both pleasure and pain, but also that they were absolutely their own."

If you still have a box of Girl Talk books sitting in a box in your parents' basement, Paperback Crush might just be the book you need to pick up this fall. If you're still not convinced, you can read an excerpt at Bustle.