I like to think I’m pretty cool. I like to think that, despite the Green Power Ranger keychain on my belt loop and the Pokémon poster on my apartment wall. However, there was a substantial portion of my life when I bore no such delusions. Reading John Green’s novels reminds me of a time when looking in the mirror only brought disgust and anger.

Between about third and eighth grades, I would constantly end up on the wrong side of jokes and putdowns. Unfortunately for my middle-school self, I was already a high school junior when Green’s Looking for Alaska was released. The novel tells a story both familiar and unique, reminding me of that time when I felt alone and of the journey that drove me to accept myself.

Looking for Alaska, Green’s first published novel, follows Miles Halter, a young man with quantifiable proof that he has no friends, as he enrolls at a boarding school to begin a new life. Halter, quickly dubbed “Pudge” by his roommate, tries to make new friends in a new school and searches for what he calls a “Great Perhaps.” Pudge’s friends are primarily his belligerent roommate, who is nicknamed “the Colonel,” and a seemingly free-spirited girl, who is actually named Alaska. Alaska, of course, quickly becomes the center of attention for Pudge as he tries to figure out this cute, mysterious girl.

Many readers will, like me, relate to Pudge. During those difficult tween years, jocks would call me chunky and laugh as I was one of the last to finish any run in phys ed. When my test would come back with an “A” marked on it, someone would inevitably call me a loser for having half a working brain in my head.

The people I considered my friends weren’t much better. Before the end of every school day, one of my best friends would steal books from my locker and toss them down three flights of stairs. Even my teachers were pretty disparaging. If I made a mistake, they would never give me the benefit of the doubt because they “expected better from me.” Perhaps something can be said for lower expectations.

Unfortunately, too many coming-of-age stories only offer struggling young readers unrealistic optimism. We expect Pudge will fall in love with the quirky Alaska. Of course she’s going to like him, too, despite that never being the way it happens in reality. Surprise, surprise. However, Green is not so predictable.

True to life, the story takes a series of wild turns, leading the reader to believe that a happy ending is on its way, only to stop us cold. Pudge and his friends have to face love, anger, and death, learn the difficulty of real relationships, and deal with the consequences of their decisions. It is a novel that reminds us that we don’t all face a single moment of clarity so much as several harsh moments that make us stronger.

Green’s novels are devoid of the melodrama so common at Degrassi High or on Dawson’s Creek (for you older folks). Instead, when a character trips into one of the genre’s inevitable pitfalls, someone always puts a firm stop to it. Oftentimes, these discussions about what is worth our tears and what is not are the best parts of the book, as we remember how we dealt with the difficult times we’ve faced in our own lives.

While it is certainly not an all around sad story, Looking for Alaska does make us consider a lot of things about what makes life as a teenager so difficult. All of the teen angst television shows and hopeless romance movies have stripped away any sense of reality when discussing teenage life. Green looks to portray those problems in a real and sympathetic way.

There is a certain tragedy and nihilism to a lot of Green’s work, and Looking for Alaska fits the category. Green does not move mountains to give a story a happy ending, nor does he take the independent cinema route of moving mountains to avoid a happy ending. Instead, Green lets his characters simply continue on with their lives, having been changed by the experience in a consequential way.

As Looking for Alaska draws to a close, the profound sense of sorrow in Pudge’s soul comes through the pages, but the reader will also feel that Pudge has become better for the journey. Pudge starts the book off looking to start anew in search of a “Great Perhaps.” Whether or not Pudge has truly found it, Miles Halter has undoubtedly learned that life is for living and enjoying, but that he also should be proud of who he is. Perhaps that is the most difficult thing for any of us to learn.

Looking for Alaska is the first of Green’s four solo novels. Before getting a copy of Alaska, I had read Green’s Paper Towns, which won the 2009 Edgar Award for best Young Adult novel, and The Fault in Our Stars. Both books were tremendous reads and hooked me on Green’s writing.

Sometimes it is easy to forget the difficult times I have had to struggle through and show no sympathy to those who are suffering through their own journeys. “Who cares if no one likes you? You just have to like yourself,” I’ll argue. Green’s novels are an antidote to that cynicism and exemplify the value of Young Adult fiction even to those outside their target demographic.

I hated going to school every single day until ninth grade. When I began high school, my life was changed considerably. New friends found me and old friends became tremendous people. I realized I didn’t need to be who the school bullies wanted me to be. I didn’t need to be who even my friends wanted me to be.

We all need to be ourselves and know that there are people out there who will like each of us for our quirks, whether they be that we like to speak in riddles or memorize the last words of historical figures. Looking for Alaska reminds us that we all need to love ourselves and let everyone important to us know we love them too.