Huge thank you to my sweet friend Kathy for sending me a surprise gift copy of this book! She read it and loved it so much that she wanted me to read it too, and I’m so glad that she did, because it was so beautifully diverse, and sweet, and funny, and altogether just a precious story of friendship, love, and adapting to a world that doesn’t always meet your needs.

“I want the world, I think. Even if it scares me.”

First of all, the representation in this book: fantastic. None of it feels forced or thrown in just to mark off a checkbox. Steffi has selective mutism and severe anxiety (and I can say from experience that her anxiety rep is on point and I saw myself so much therein), Rhys is d/Deaf, and both Rhys and Tem (Steffi’s best friend) are POC (though I don’t think it was ever stated precisely what race either character was, so unfortunately I cannot give specifics on that). While the d/Deaf rep is not own-voice, and I can’t speak for sure on this since I am not d/Deaf myself, it did feel very respectfully done to me and I felt like the author had done her research. That said, my outsider’s perspective on this representation will never be half as important as own-voice reviews for this book, so if you have an own-voice review that you would like boosted, please message me so I can link to your review!

“I decide this is just A Bad Day. We all get them, because grief doesn't care how many years it's been.”

Ultimately, though there are some underlying themes—such as the grief of Steffi’s deceased older brother, her struggles with her mother’s ableist views of her, and the difficulties she faces regarding going off to college soon—this story is heavily character-driven, so don’t go into it expecting too much of a plot. In fact, the reason I gave it 4 stars instead of 5 was simply because the second half focused so heavily on the relationship between Steffi and Rhys that I found myself getting bored at certain scenes.

“Extroverts can be shy, introverts can be bold, and a condition like anxiety can strike whatever kind of social animal you are.”

That minor complaint aside, something I want to talk about for a second here is the healthy sex representation being portrayed. Unlike many YA novels that depict a picturesque view of a teen’s first time as being all silk and lace and swooning perfection, Sara’s writing is much more honest: the sex in this book is awkward in the best possible way, and feels so realistic. I literally laughed out loud at how relatable some of it was. Many of you already know that my chosen hill to die on lately is that I believe YA novels need to depict authentic, honest sexual relationships to give teens healthy goals to strive towards, and A Quiet Kind of Thunder does that perfectly, because even though it’s clumsy and awkward and imperfect, it also clearly expresses that they’re new to this, they’re learning together, and it’s okay if it doesn’t look like the movies.

“Little victories are everything in a world where worst-case scenarios are on an endless loop in your head.”

The only other thing I want to touch on is how much I appreciated that, whenever something problematic occurs, it’s dissected and dealt with. Steffi and Rhys both occasionally have some ableist moments towards the other (more Steffi than Rhys, I think), and Rhys has some occasional issues with fragile masculinity and unintentional sexism, but it’s constantly addressed and challenged. The only thing I can recall wishing was challenged further was Tem’s obsession with virginity, but it isn’t presented in a slut-shaming manner so much as personal choice, so I don’t have any substantial complaint to file against that one.

All in all, A Quiet Kind of Thunder is a very sweet, lovable story about characters who are relatable, funny, charming, awkward, and genuine. If you’re looking for a slightly fluffy but also important YA contemporary, I highly recommend picking this one up, and I’ll definitely be checking out more of Sara Barnard’s works!