Andrew Joseph White's fourth YA horror novel, You're No Better, is as utterly riveting and shocking as his previous titles for teens (Hell Followed with Us; The Spirit Bares Its Teeth; Compound Fracture). But You're No Better, about protagonist Morgan Slaughter, an autistic transgender teen determined to develop an identity separate from his convicted serial killer father, may be White's most commanding work yet. Through skillful prose, he develops a complicated, intricate plot while immediately establishing Morgan's candid, unapologetic voice--one of immense vulnerability that masquerades as defiance.

When Morgan was 10, he saw his dad, Graham Nathaniel Slaughter, murder his 51st female victim. Morgan reported the crime and testified at his father's trial. Unsurprisingly, Morgan is tortured by this past: "It's horrible... living with this written into your muscle memory and carved into your neurons."

You're No Better begins with a documentary crew invading Morgan's life, with their morbid interest in Slaughter's murder of "fifty-one girls over twenty-one years." The crew conducts in-depth interviews with Morgan's mother, Bellamy, and with Morgan, which include notes like: "Morgan Slaughter is a seventeen-year-old girl with long red hair wearing a simple black dress. While she's conventionally pretty and mature for her age, there is an unnerving blankness to her expression, and she sits extremely still, like a predator." In exchange for Morgan's participation in the project, his transphobic mother has agreed to hand over Morgan's half-million-dollar trust fund when he turns 18, rather than 25, but he'll have to stay closeted until then. Morgan knows that the trust fund means he will eventually be able to escape Bellamy's abuse and transition on his own terms, so he dons the appropriate facades: a "costume" of femininity and a "veil of neurotypicality."

Although former therapists have characterized him with "a proven history of impulsive violence," Morgan resolves to confirm once and for all that he's not like his father by uncovering the still-unknown identity of Slaughter's final victim. He reluctantly teams up with a classmate, Felicity, when she threatens to reveal Slaughter and Morgan's cataclysmic secret: Morgan wasn't just a witness but a forced accomplice. Morgan has no idea how Felicity knows that Slaughter horrifically groomed Morgan to be an accessory to Slaughter's grisly crimes. For most of Morgan's life, his parents molded him for their own selfish gain and now that Slaughter has been jailed, Bellamy exploits Morgan for social media clout.

With his goal in mind and Felicity's threat looming, Morgan manipulates others to obtain evidence about the victim. First, he steals photos from his friend Alyssa's house. Morgan resents Alyssa for being able to transition and "be okay," and he interprets her repeated concerns about his well-being as pity. Most importantly, her Washington, D.C., police chief father, "a sad, pathetic son of a bitch who destroyed his marriage to (unsuccessfully) chase" Slaughter, still hoards documentation from the crime scenes. Later, Morgan intentionally builds a flirtatious relationship with Daniel--a "bright-eyed, pliable" film student working with the production team--to obtain a key card allowing access to Slaughter's crime scene: a waterfront loft-turned-torture chamber that has sat "unchanged. Unchanging. For years."

Morgan sees his investigation and manipulations as vehicles to regain power--from his parents, documentarians, influencers--and control his own story. He feels trapped and stripped of agency and selfhood, which is disturbingly analogous to how he grew up in his father's kill room. Slaughter has shaped nearly every facet of his son: "I'll never know what I would have been without him." Morgan perceives bids for connection as mechanisms to exploit him, just as his father gained his victims' trust and then heinously abused it.

Morgan's repeated self-sabotage and his matter-of-fact narration detailing devastating memories are disturbing and engrossing. Graphic details of the crimes unfurl through multiple sources: White infuses Morgan's sporadic recall with information from autopsy reports, social media speculations, and interviews with Morgan and Bellamy. White leaves the full image, however, to readers to piece together. He never glories in the pain, sadism, or gore--instead, he gives readers just enough to understand the horror in a way they are individually capable of comprehending.

Morgan's gender identity is also on display, and its nuance illuminates a reality for trans folks who must suppress parts of themselves for their own safety: "Gender gets weird when you're a closeted trans boy, but also feminine, but also coerced into girlhood by a bitch of a mother." Knowing he's trans adds layers of terror to Morgan's acceptance of his identity. When he starts taking testosterone, the fear of looking in the mirror and seeing his father staring back haunts him: "I'll still paint my nails so I don't see the blood, but I'll be a man, as long as I'm not a man like him."

Morgan escapes physically and emotionally bloodied and bruised from violent events at the story's conclusion, but his gradual growth over the course of the novel leaves him more willing to accept offers of support. While Morgan's experience as the child of a serial killer is unusual, he is also undeniably a teenager: he's oppositional and misunderstood, yet desperate to be seen and loved. The fallible, wholly authentic protagonist is a constant in White's YA novels, as is the idea that, though the story is complete, the character still has a whole life of growth ahead of them. Here, White takes the relatable, closeted, and abused Morgan and closes with the idea that things "might even get kind of good eventually." You're No Better brilliantly uses extremes to highlight and honor the intricacies and complicated intersections of adolescent and neurodivergent trans experiences, creating a novel that can speak to a multitude of teens. --Kieran Slattery

Andrew Joseph White (photo: Arielle Lewis Studios)

Andrew Joseph White is the author of the Printz Honor book Compound Fracture, the Stonewall Honor book The Spirit Bares Its Teeth, and the William C. Morris Debut Award finalist Hell Followed with Us. White, who received his M.F.A. in creative writing from George Mason University, is transgender and autistic. He lives with his wife in Virginia. You're No Better (Peachtree Teen, October 20, 2026) is a YA horror novel about Morgan, an autistic trans teen desperate to distinguish himself from his imprisoned serial killer father. Here, White talks with Shelf Awareness about representing varied trans identities, writing for teens and adults, and crafting angry, vicious characters who are still loved.

In the acknowledgements, you state that you and Morgan are "vastly different people." Was it challenging to write a character who's so unlike you?

Morgan had such a shockingly inhabitable mindset and voice that it almost startled me. It wasn't challenging at all. Though to be fair, he and I share some building blocks. We are both transgender and autistic. We struggle with human interaction and reciprocation in relationships, and we hide our social deficits behind a savvy mask. But I spent my teenage years as a sensitive, conflict-avoidant overachiever, and that wasn't the character You're No Better needed. I knew Morgan had to be abrasive, and explosive, and extremely stubborn--the exact opposite of teenage me in so many ways.

What helped most was pinpointing Morgan's specific struggles with emotional development and letting that guide his voice. Every second of the day he feels debilitating shame and anger, and other emotions are practically inaccessible; after all, he was never given a chance to grow beyond fight-or-flight. Once I figured that out and infused it into his words, his narrative style absolutely flowed.

In many YA books featuring trans characters, the character's gender is closely tied to and illustrated by their gender expression. In You're No Better, Morgan is forced to remain closeted. Is it important to you to represent varied trans identities?

Absolutely. The time between realizing I was trans and being able to do anything about it was extremely difficult... and I didn't realize I was trans until I was an adult. My main readership, the reason I write YA books in the first place, is made up of teenagers. Of children. And these children live their lives at the mercy of parents, guardians, and all kinds of adult gatekeepers (doctors, politicians, societies) that may be standing between them and whatever gender-affirming care they need to be themselves. The majority of my YA protagonists, including Morgan, find themselves in a similar situation. They may not have access to information, or health care, or safe adults, because that is the reality of many of my young readers.

I have lots of respect for trans authors who write trans characters in YA who do have access to those things. It's important to have representation of what an accepting world can look like, and some kids in Morgan's situation find solace in escapism. But others are looking for a vicious kind of catharsis--they want to say, "Yes, you understand how painful this is"--and that's what my work is here for.

You're No Better follows your adult title, You Weren't Meant to Be Human. Is there a conscious shift you undergo to get back into a mindset of writing YA after writing for an adult audience?

When I'm writing for teens, I carry a moral obligation toward the young person interacting with my art. I'm speaking to a child, which means there is a duty of care: they are still learning about the world, and it is the job of adults to offer guidance and advice. Even if my books are rough, and the content-warning lists are long, I'm writing this book to offer solace and catharsis to teens like the one I once was and to provide a safe place to work through tough feelings.

When I'm writing for adults, the existence of that moral obligation is iffy at best. I'm not obligated to offer guidance or advice or an important insight into the world. Sure, I can if I want, but maybe I want to clack my characters together like Barbies. Maybe I feel bad about something, and I want you to feel bad too. Maybe I just want to hit you very hard with a brick. Whatever. We're all grown-ups here.

You're No Better is a work of horror, while it also features common YA themes. How do you balance the more relatable aspects of growing up (building and losing friendships) with Morgan's experience being the child of a notorious serial killer?

One of the things I really wanted to do in You're No Better was show how difficult things (be it disabilities like autism or being the child of a serial killer) can impact day-to-day life. You don't leave challenges behind if you're doing "normal teen stuff." Stereotypical experiences, like arguing with classmates or butting heads with parents, will be wildly impacted if you struggle with emotional regulation, or if you instinctively interpret people as threats.

When you're young, and things are hard, the world keeps turning. You still have to go to school. You still have to interact with people, some of whom are your friends, no matter how hard it is or how much it sucks. In a book about the aftermath of extreme human cruelty, it didn't seem honest to ignore those parts of life.

You dedicated this book to "the angry kids." Do you think readers might see themselves in the pages of your book?

I think there are a lot of young readers who will see themselves in Morgan's desperation to escape others' perceptions of him. He is trapped by several adults who are trying so hard to make him into what they want, be that a villain or a daughter, and it's turned him vicious, like an animal backed into a corner. I know there are a lot of trans teenagers out there who are dealing with that same animal-in-a-corner feeling, especially now. And maybe my older readers, too! I'm still dealing with it, and I'll be 28 when You're No Better releases.

What I want those readers to see, though, is that yes, Morgan is vicious. He is mean, makes a lot of bad decisions, and his desperation has consequences for himself and those around him. But he is still cared for. By the end of the book, he has met people who understand him and adults who are able to help. That's the most important part of all.

What can you tell us about your next project?

At time of writing, I'm drafting Beast//Warden, a YA fantasy horror set in another world's Stone Age. It's a complicated puzzle of a book, but it's been a wonderful challenge so far. After years of listening to trans and disabled people be dismissed as statistical (and dangerous) anomalies of the modern era, it's invigorating to write a book that insists we've been around since prehistory. --Kieran Slattery