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In the comments of a previous Tuesday Top Five entry, I expressed interest in “a critical analysis about the lineage from paranormal romance to modern ‘romantasy’.” I was thrilled to find out that such an analysis exists in this series of Tumblr posts, which discuss some of the influences on Sarah J. Maas’ currently trendy A Court of Thorns and Roses and similar “horny fairy” books (none of which I’ve read), including both paranormal romance and urban fantasy. While I’ve heard those two genre labels expressed as if they're synonyms, they’re a Venn Diagram if anything, and before I associated the latter term with the likes of Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter, I saw it linked to Charles de Lint’s Newford stories and the Bordertown series created by Terri Windling. Both projects blend the mythology of elves and other fae creatures with urban countercultures in similar ways, both of them shaped me as a person, and both get shoutouts in the Tumblr discussion that I linked earlier. So I might be a hipster fantasy reader who Liked Fairies Before It Was Cool, but I will never pretend I was the only one.

Besides the Newford and Bordertown series, here are five other books based upon fairy mythology that I loved as a child, as a teen, and into my twenties. For the purposes of this post, I’m going to use the terms fairy/faerie/fae more or less interchangeably, guided by what seem to be the authors’ own preferences.

1. The Fairy Rebel (1985) by Lynne Reid Banks

A chance meeting in the garden leads Jan to befriend a fairy named Tiki, who promises Jan what she wants most in the world. But their friendship angers the Queen of the Fairies, and her desire for revenge endangers Jan’s family years later.

The Fairy Rebel was a childhood favorite of mine, and although I have some mixed feelings about it now (among other things, the ending implies a magical cure for a human disability), I still think that Banks beautifully captured the sense of wonder at the possibility that there is a hidden world of magical beings just beyond our line of sight. Also, there is a wonderful moment near the end, in which Jan stands up to the Queen, that I still think about years later.

2. I Was A Teenage Fairy (1998) by Francesca Lia Block

Pressured into a modeling career by her overbearing mother, eleven-year-old Barbie befriends a tiny, smart-mouthed fairy named Mab, who helps Barbie face her trauma and reclaim her agency as she grows into adolescence.

I have written previously about my adolescent obsession with Francesca Lia Block’s writing; this book was published at the peak of my adoration, and contained many of the elements that made her work so appealing to me, from its command of imagery and metaphor (including several memorable passages that personify cities as magnificent women) to its dedication to taking the emotions of teenage girls seriously. (Less happily, it also contains a narrative throughline concerning child sexual abuse – mostly off-page, but it’s pretty clear what’s going on throughout.) Barbie’s experience of childhood and young womanhood were very different from my life, or any life that I expected or hoped to lead, but I definitely related to her feeling like she couldn’t please any of the adults in her life and seeking comfort in a friendship with a being that might or might not have been imaginary.

3. Extraordinary (2010) by Nancy Werlin

Privileged but kind-hearted Phoebe reaches out to Mallory, the peculiar new girl in her seventh-grade class, and six years later, the girls are best friends who share everything… or so Phoebe thinks, until she meets her friend’s very attractive, beguiling, and never-before-mentioned older brother. Mallory has a hidden agenda – suggested in ominous “Conversations with the Faerie Queen” interspersed between the chapters from her friend’s perspective – which is connected to a generational link between Phoebe’s family and the faerie realm.

Although technically the middle book in a trilogy – which begins with Impossible and concludes with Unthinkable – Extraordinary stands beautifully on my own and is by far my favorite of the three. I love the slow backstory reveal, which blends fantasy with real-life Jewish history; normally I have a pretty big problem with stories that attribute human innovation and success to extrahuman intervention, but I didn't mind it in this case. I have even more admiration for Werlin’s choice to portray the Supernatural Boyfriend (a trope that was very recognizable in the YA fiction of 2010) as manipulative and toxic, while the actual emotional payoff comes from an equally fraught but ultimately redemptive female friendship.

4. Cuckoo Song (2014) by Frances Hardinge

In the wake of the First World War – in which her brother was killed in action – Triss lives a sheltered life with respectable parents who dote on her during her frequent illnesses. At first, her recovery from an apparent near-drowning is no different, but soon Triss finds herself mysteriously shedding leaves and hungering not only for food but for objects around her house, and suspects that her family, especially her little sister, know more about what happened to her than they’re telling.

Every book that I’ve read by Frances Hardinge has been an imaginative masterpiece, but I think Cuckoo Song contains some of her best work in terms of the fantasy worldbuilding; her exploration of the characters, their relationships, and the times in which they live; and how all of these elements intertwine. If you like protagonists who struggle with their own monstrous impulses, and stories that use fantasy and horror elements to explore dysfunctional family dynamics and societal upheavals, and ambiguous but hopeful endings, I recommend this book with my whole heart.

5. The Darkest Part of the Forest (2015) by Holly Black

For the humans who live in the secluded village of Fairfold, an uneasy coexistence with fae creatures is part of everyday life. Like their neighbors (as well as the tourists who understand the charms but not the dangers of Fairfold), Hazel and her brother Ben are perpetually fascinated by the mysterious boy with pointed ears and horns who sleeps in a glass coffin in the woods, but their years of daydreaming can’t prepare them for the day that he’s released, for the even more dangerous creature that threatens their community, or for the secrets that the siblings have hidden from each other and themselves.

Holly Black has been publishing contemporary fantasy about the faerie folk since the early 2000s, and although Darkest Part takes place in the same universe as her popular Folk of the Air series (of which I’ve read some but not all), it tells a self-contained story that I actually like a whole lot better. I love how the author portrays the terrifying nature of the Folk and the idiosyncrasies of life in Fairfold; I love Hazel’s character development, her relationship with Ben, and the revelations about her past. Although Black's navigation of Supernatural Boyfriend tropes isn't subversive like I consider Werlin's to be, both Hazel's and Ben's romance storylines feel distinctive and original. As someone raised by artist parents in a tiny rural town, where I definitely would have loved to believed that there were mysterious creatures hiding in the woods, this story has resonated with me every time I’ve reread it.