It all began in the spring of 2020, when life felt paused and uncertain. My days revolved around Zoom calls, social distancing, and an urge to fill time that felt infinite. That’s when I stumbled on a book by Emily Henry titled Beach Read. A pastel cover, a catchy title—but more importantly, a whisper of promise: this could be the book that made me feel again.
Little did I know that opening Beach Read was like opening the door to a room full of light. From that moment on, I was hooked. Every page, every character, every moment of truth in her dialogue reminded me why I’d ever fallen in love with books.
I didn’t just discover one of the books by Emily Henry—I discovered a world. Here’s how I fell in, book by book.
Beach Read (2020): When Humor and Heartbreak Collide
Beach Read introduced me to Emily Henry’s special kind of emotional storytelling—quirky, heartfelt, and winding toward redemption. January Andrews, a bestselling romance author, retreats to her late father’s lakeside house, only to find Gus Everett—her former college rival and darkly brooding literary author—living next door. They embark on a genre-swapping challenge: she’ll write literary fiction, he’ll write a romance. Easy, right? Certainly not.
What follows is a slow-burn romance laced with emotional upheaval. January grapples with grief over her father’s betrayal and death; Gus wrestles with the pressure of fatherhood and his fear of failure. Their “summer wager” becomes the perfect vehicle for digging into deeper truths: trauma, acceptance, and redefinition. When their guard finally falls, it’s supported by shared vulnerabilities—late-night lakeside conversations, crumpled drafts, and unexpected kisses in empty marinas.
This was the first Emily Henry book I read that felt like home. It balanced the lightness of witty banter (“meet cutes” replaced by re-read drafts) with the gravity of grief. It reminded me that real love can be both hopeful and painful, sunny and stormy. After finishing it, I closed the book and felt raw in the best way possible—like I’d been reminded who I was beyond lockdown blues.
I devoured it in two days and immediately Googled “Books by Emily Henry”. I needed more.
People We Meet on Vacation (2021): Friendship, Laughter, and Longing
People We Meet on Vacation felt like visiting a favorite friend’s old scrapbook—full of photographs, inside jokes, and hidden moments. Poppy and Alex had been summer travel companions for a decade, until a breakup kept them apart for two years. Now, she’s determined to take one last vacation together, hoping to mend fences—and hearts.
Told in alternating timelines (“Then” and “Now”), the narrative unfolds like two suitcases rolled open side by side. The “Then” chapters revisit their annual adventures: European train trips, Airbnb disasters, emotional climaxes in Costa Rica. You watch their friendship bloom—from first awkward glances to deep confessions under foreign skies. The “Now” chapters reveal the cost of love unspoken: tension, unresolved heartbreak, and the ache of what-ifs.
What struck me most was the emotion in the margins. I remember laughing at their goofball travel photos, then tearing up at subtle heartbreaks—missed connection, lost timing, silent turning away. This isn’t a sappy romance—it’s a love story about two people who built their lives around each other and only realized it too late.
By the end, I was mentally rewinding my own summers—the ones I took for granted, the people I didn’t kiss, the moments I let slip. It’s not just another Emily Henry book—it’s a reflective trip through time and feeling.
Book Lovers (2022): A Meta‑Romance for the Bookish Soul
When Book Lovers arrived, I was already fully entrenched in Emily Henry’s world. So I pre‑ordered with eagerness—and it felt like a book written just for me.
Enter Nora Stephens: sharp-tongued NYC literary agent who’s tired of the tropes she helps sell. At her sister’s behest, she escapes to Sunshine Falls, NC, expecting small-town clichés. Instead, she meets Charlie Lastra, a gruff local editor she once sparred with. Snark turns to flirtation; rivalry turns to romance.
What made this book by Emily Henry stand out is its meta-layer. It’s about people who make stories—editors, agents, authors—who get to see romance novels from both sides. And yet they’re terrified of writing their own real love story. The tension between “professional” and “personal” is electric: will their careers allow them happiness together?
But deeper still, Book Lovers explores grief and familial bonds. Both Nora and Charlie carry loss—her mother’s early death; his family’s financial collapse. Their slow-burn connection isn’t just physical; it’s emotional excavation.
For a book about books, this one truly feels like it understands readers. It treats obsessive bibliophiles like heroes, while reminding them that not all chapters turn out the way you planned. This book cemented my belief that Emily Henry books aren’t lightweight—they’re comforting, but also tough.
Happy Place (2023): A Beautifully Broken Vacation
Happy Place enters my top tier of aerial heartbreaks and late-summer tears. It begins with Harriet and Wyn, the perfect couple who broke up months ago—yet haven’t told their friends. They gather for their annual Maine retreat, and when the dynamics heat up, they decide to pretend they’re still together.
The tension radiates from page one. I found myself exhaling in sync with Harriet when Wyn walks in; their chemistry is still intact. What follows is an emotional dissection of love’s collapse, personal growth, and the tension between showing up and letting go.
Henry’s structure—alternating between “Then” (when they were together) and “Now” (fake dating)—is heartbreaking. You feel the joy they once had alongside the panic of why it disintegrated. Lovers, I realized, can also be strangers. People forget to love the person they used to be.
But this book isn’t just about romantic love. It’s about platonic love too—the knit group of friends, the chosen family that forms after a breakup, the bonds that don’t break.
Reading Happy Place felt like reading my own secret thoughts, shards of second chances I didn’t know I had stopped hoping for. It reaffirmed to me: not all love is linear, but all love leaves a mark.
Funny Story (2024): Cozy Hearts and Quiet Healing
Then came Funny Story, which stole the award for “most like a hug in book form.”
Meet Daphne: librarian, neat-freak, quietly reeling after her fiancé leaves her—for his childhood best friend. Enter Miles: gentle neighbor, unsettled ex of the same friend, a mismatched soulmate. They form a pact to be each other’s “mom date” and fake date at the inevitable wedding. Forced companionship turns to real connection.
This Emily Henry book felt like the novel equivalent of deep breaths. There are no grand gestures—just shared coffee, chaotic group chats, and milestone-by-milestone emotional healing. What I loved most was watching two wounded people learn to trust again, without the pressure of grand romance. It’s about rebuilding, day by day.
Their love is quiet, intimate, and not cinematic—it’s real. Watching them become a team made me hopeful for slow, meaningful love. It’s comfort with no compromise, a soft place to land.
By the end I felt lighter, wrapped in warmth. Sometimes the best love stories aren’t designed—they’re discovered.
Great Big Beautiful Life (2025): Rivalry, Legacy, and Island Secrets
I thought I knew what an Emily Henry book could do—and then Great Big Beautiful Life changed the game.
Set on a remote island, the story follows Alice and Hayden, rival biographers both searching for the elusive story of Margaret Ives, a reclusive heiress with a secret past. As they dig into her life—her lost love, her hidden trauma—they unearth their own truths as well.
What makes this one a standout is its ambitious emotional canvas. It’s part psychological drama, part love story, part intrigue. Its setting—windy cliffs, antique libraries, crashing waves—serves more than aesthetic. The island itself feels like a character: isolated and enigmatic, exposing the cracks in Alice and Hayden’s carefully curated lives.
Alice is intuitive, sensitive, and obsessed with identity. Hayden is meticulous, private, and bound by legacy. Their rivalry turns to attraction, but only after they allow themselves vulnerability beyond ambition.
Reading this book by Emily Henry felt like entering a novel she’d never written before—but was born to write. It’s the emotional evolution of everything she’s done so far: interpersonal tension, emotional excavation, the courage of letting your guard down.
By the final chapter I was weeping—surprised at how deeply I’d come to care about side characters, minor regrets, small confessions. Emily Henry had written the most cinematic, multi-layered love story yet. Great Big Beautiful Life sealed my faith that her best was still ahead.
Rediscovering Her YA Roots
After my emotional roller-coaster with adult romance, I dove into Emily Henry’s earlier YA novels. Though different in tone, they reveal foundations of what makes Emily Henry Books so irresistible.
The Love That Split the World (2016): Time-Bending Spiritual Romance
I opened The Love That Split the World expecting YA charm—but found metaphysical poetry and spiritual depth.
Natalie Cleary starts seeing strange cracks forming in reality: doors that lead to other dimensions, flickers of light that don’t belong, and a figure she calls “Grandmother” who warns that she has “three months to save him.” Enter Beau, an ethereal boy who may or may not belong to her world.
But this is more than a time-travel romance. It’s a story about adoption, identity, and belonging. Natalie’s Native heritage, raised by white parents, adds nuance. The lines between worlds mirror the lines between identities she carries.
Reading it felt like walking on the edge of dreams. Emily Henry blends folklore with teenage uncertainty, grief with possibility. When Natalie finally reaches back to Beau—or is he reaching back to her?—the answer remains open and fragile.
This original YA title planted the seeds of thematic exploration—love is both diversion and salvation, memory is both trap and gift—that bloom in her later work. I could feel Henry testing emotional boundaries then—boundaries she’d later refine to perfection in books by Emily Henry.
A Million Junes (2017): Cursed Love and Familial Healing
A Million Junes is that rare book that makes you believe in love, magic, and forgiveness.
June O’Donnell’s family warns her away from the Angerts—especially Saul—because of a generational curse tied to grief, apple orchards, and ghostly whispers. When she meets Saul, she expects thunder—but she gets lightning.
This story is less a romance than a journey through grief and redemption. June’s pain after losing her father manifests in magical realism: haunting images, beside-the-point memories, coywolves. Collectively, they form a tapestry of parental impact and generational ceilidhs.
Saul is her opposite: calm, curious, resilient. His presence grounds the chaos in June’s life. They become a team, solving puzzles of heartbreak and ancestral failure.
By the end, this Emily Henry book teaches a simple truth: some curses are inherited—but love can break generations of despair. It was my first Henry novel where I didn’t just root for the romance. I rooted for healing.
When the Sky Fell on Splendor (2019): Friendship as Survival
In When the Sky Fell on Splendor, Emily Henry took me into a quiet apocalypse. Franny’s brother lies in a coma after a mill explosion. Her “Paranormal Patrol” group—Ray, Val, Arthur, and Franny—begin filming ghost stories for YouTube when strange phenomena begin.
The explosion rewrote their town. Buildings shift, dreams collide, visions occur. As they piece together the mystery, they’re also piecing together their own trauma—guilt over survival, fear of loss, and need for something real when nothing feels real anymore.
This isn’t a nostalgic YA—it’s an emotional thriller. The friendship feels earned. Franny’s guilt about her brother, Arthur’s twitchy conspiracy theories, Val’s buried creativity, Ray’s yearning for normalcy—all combine in a powerful portrait of teenage resilience.
It taught me that in disasters, love isn’t always romantic. It’s standing together when nothing else makes sense. Among all her YA books by Emily Henry, this one resonates for its honesty and how closely it mirrors the uncertainty of the world.
Hello Girls (2019, with Brittany Cavallaro): Feminist Road‑Trip Rebellion
Last in the YA catalog, Hello Girls is riotous and raw.
Winona and Lucille are fed up—with their towns, their parents, their futures. They steal a car and take off on a cross-country odyssey to leave behind what’s hurting them most. But escape isn’t always easy.
Along the way, they face strangers, traffic jams, ruptured friendships, and the raw need to be free. As they hurt and heal, they rediscover who they are—together, not alone. Their bond deepens in danger and discomfort. They fall apart, then piece themselves back together—on their terms.
Co-authored with Brittany Cavallaro, this book amplifies Emily Henry’s emotional honesty. The writing is stark, unfiltered, feminist riot—demonstrating that growth can be abrupt, necessary, and communal.
It ends not with a tidy resolution, but with a door left open for new beginnings. It reminded me that not every journey seeks closure. Sometimes it’s enough to open your eyes—and drive.
Emily Henry Books in Order
Here’s the complete chronological order of her published works, so you can read them in the sequence they were launched:
- The Love That Split the World (2016) – YA Magical Realism
- A Million Junes (2017) – YA Magical Realism
- When the Sky Fell on Splendor (2019) – YA Sci-Fi/Paranormal
- Hello Girls (2019) – YA Contemporary (Co‑authored with Brittany Cavallaro)
- Beach Read (2020) – Adult Contemporary Romance
- People We Meet on Vacation (2021) – Adult Contemporary Romance
- Book Lovers (2022) – Adult Contemporary Romance
- Happy Place (2023) – Adult Contemporary Romance
- Funny Story (2024) – Adult Contemporary Romance
- Great Big Beautiful Life (2025) – Adult Contemporary Romance
Final Thoughts: Why Emily Henry Books Mean So Much
I’ve read these Emily Henry books across rooftops during sunset, in solitude after midnight, and most memorably, during a global crisis that threatened to swallow collective hope. But her books—bookworms’ stories, flawed loves, magical realism, healing road trips—they were the anchor.
They taught me that love isn’t always dramatic. It’s messes, conversations, small gestures, and half-confessed truths. Her characters grow not because they deserve it—they grow because they keep hurting, changing directions, and showing up.
So if you’re on the fence—start with Beach Read or Book Lovers. Keep going into her earlier YA works. Watch her emotional range bloom. Let her words remind you that sadness and laughter can coexist, and that we keep reading because we’re still hopeful.
I can’t wait to see where her next novel will take me. But for now, I’m infinitely grateful for the journey through these books by Emily Henry—my favorite companions in an unpredictable world.