While I have a Bachelor's Degree in English and Writing and absolutely adore The Great Gatsby, The Importance of Being Ernest, and any Ernest Hemingway short story, John Green’s young adult novels will always have a special place in my heart, and on my book shelf.

When The Fault in Our Stars came out, I read it two times in a row. It became, and remains to be, my guilty pleasure novel. Despite how heartbreaking of a story it is, there’s just something about Gus and his tragic need to make a difference in the world that I can’t resist. Plus, there’s that Amsterdam scene. Magical, am I right?

So, when I caught word that John Green was finally releasing another book, I knew I would have to read it as soon as possible. While I was right that it couldn’t hold its own against The Fault in Our Stars, I was pleasantly surprised at how much I enjoyed Turtles All The Way Down. I found myself unable to put it down. Perhaps it was because I saw so much of myself in the main character, Aza.

She is a character that I wish was around to read about when I was in high school.

Underneath the surface story, a mystery of a fugitive billionaire and a $100,000 reward that Aza and her best friend, Daisy, are hooked into investigating, lies a deeper, surprisingly raw story about anxiety that is missing from young adult fiction.

Green delves into, as best he can, the reality of living with anxiety and the reality of being friends with someone who suffers from anxiety. There are misunderstandings, there’s frustration, there’s struggle, there’s uncertainty.

When it comes to anxiety, Green doesn’t sugar coat anything, which was so refreshing, and gave the book much of its appeal.

For me, Aza was such a relatable character because she was a combination of a few people that I know. I’ve seen part of her in the people I love: my family, my friends, and even in myself. Many of the seemingly never-ending spirals of thoughts were the same kind that I had experienced, especially when I was in high school, but also in recent years.

Aza made me feel like I wasn’t alone in my struggles.

For as long as I can remember, it was a rare occasion, but less rare these days, that my thumbs weren’t picked at or my hangnails not pulled, leaving exposed skin. It’s a nervous tick, a coping mechanism that I have. When I get nervous, stressed, or angry, sometimes even without my noticing, I pull the hangnails off my thumbs. Then when they heal back as scabs, I can’t help but pick them off again. It is a never-ending cycle. It is my way of feeling something.

One of Aza’s quirks (revealed early in the book, so no spoilers), is that she continuously opens a scab on her finger to remind herself that she’s real. It’s an unhealthy obsession, but it’s something that neither of us does because we want to, but it is a part of who we are, which I found to be one of the most powerful messages of Turtles All The Way Down.

It might not be everything that The Fault in Our Stars was, and I don’t think it’ll ever be my guilty pleasure read, but Turtles All The Way Down still earns a special place on my bookshelf for what it is: an important piece that portrays the realities of living with anxiety.

I think you should read it. Read it if you love John Green. Read it if you love subtle mystery. Read it if you know someone with anxiety. Read it if you have anxiety. Read it because I promise there will be turtles.