In the past
couple of weeks I’ve come up against a couple of dilemmas as a
writer/reader.
I’m almost finished the first draft of my first YA novel with the working title Community. Set in a small, isolated town, the book’s main theme is the use and abuse of authority. Triggered by the unexplained disappearance and reappearance of his friend Vienne, Toby starts to play a computer game replicating the town in order to work out what happened to Vienne. There is a love triangle, involving Vienne, Toby and a new entrant to the town, Mac. Vienne’s interest in Mac is self-serving. Toby and Mac’s feelings towards one another appear to be genuine.
As the
characters and their relationships developed, I began to wonder how much
intimacy was too much in a YA novel (I’m writing in euphemisms because I don’t
want a specific word to trigger a flood of spam in the comments). My gut
instinct was that as long as it was in keeping with the characters, not
gratuitous and not deliberately explicit, it would be okay. Many of the books I
read as a teen mumble-mumble years
ago included intimacy in this manner and I got the gist of what was going on,
even if I didn’t know exactly what that
was.
My first
dilemma: How far should the relationship go?
I researched viewpoints
ranging from ‘putting any of it in only encourages it’ to ‘teenagers are doing
it so it should be included’ to ‘not all
teenagers are doing it’.
I’ve heard many
publishers and editors stressed the importance of not making books for
teenagers too ‘edgy’, unless negative behaviours tend to draw negative
consequences. Schools, for example, are reluctant to include controversial books
on their teaching lists because of the fear of parent backlash, a view
supported in the blog Deliciously Fictive
which includes the perspectives of teenaged readers, parents and those working
in the industry.
Sarah Alderson notes that none of her YA characters have done anything beyond kiss – because
every time they try it gets left on the cutting room floor.
Amber Skye Forbes, who says her book When Stars Die, includes
positive and negative consequences, notes
“There is a difference in the teen protagonist actually
regretting it for whatever reason – and it better be a good, justifiable reason
– and the author deliberately wanting teen readers to know the negative
consequences.”
It all reinforced
my initial thought: write what’s true to the characters and the situation.
Vikki Wakefield's Friday Brown handles 'difficult' topics with care. |
The next
dilemma was how to write it.
Friday Brown by Vikki Wakefield does it well – the
title character witnesses a physical (although not intimate – more an
example of power than love) situation between two people. It’s implied, and not
explicit, as are most of the ‘negative’ topics in the book, which include prostitution
and drug use. It’s written in a way that older readers will understand it
immediately, and younger readers will get the gist.
YA author
Christa Desir lists several books that she believes are realistic and empowering, including
Stephen Chbosky’s The Perks of Being a
Wallflower and If I Stay by Gayle
Forman.
Third dilemma:
Noticing similarities in what I’m writing to an existing book.
Hushed by Kelley York is dark, daring and beautifully written. |
There are also other similarities that I won’t write because I’ll give the game away for both books.
So... slight
panic over a major string of coincidences. But thematically and stylistically they’re
chalk and cheese. Hushed is much darker,
and if I can get to the point where I’m writing with the same impact as York, I’ll
be ecstatic.
Fourth
dilemma: It’s been pointed out to me that I’m writing a same-sex relationship
between two guys when I’m a hetero married woman.
I see writing
as a form of acting, but instead of on the stage it’s on the page. I’m not a
master ceramicist, I don’t run an inner-city cafe, I don’t renovate old
buildings, I’m not a architecture professor at university, a school teacher, the
parent of a teenager (yet!) or a cranky old busybody (yet!) – but all these characters are also in the
story.
From the
outset I’ve approached the interactions between Mac and Toby as a relationship
between two people, just as the other relationships in the book.
A quote on
the front cover of Hushed grated on
me: “How exciting that we live in a time when gay teen protagonists can be just
as screwed up as straight ones”. However, when reading the book I found it
refreshing, empowering and liberating that York had treated the relationship
between her two male protagonists the same way I am: they are two people,
coming together, facing obstacles unique to their situation.
So after a
couple of weeks of writerly soul-searching, which I’ve put down to a moment of
two of doubt, I’m sticking to my original plan: I’m writing a level of intimacy
that’s true to the characters and their situation. It doesn’t feel right not
to.
I'd love to hear other people's thoughts on the topic!
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