Why censorship is dangerous

It’s finally happened.

All the Bright Places is joining the ranks of Harry Potter, The Color Purple, The Catcher in the Rye, To Kill a Mockingbird, Of Mice and Men, The Perks of Being a Wallflower, and Fahrenheit 451. It’s on the verge of becoming a banned book.

Parents of students at Lemont High School in Illinois are campaigning to have my book removed from the school’s curriculum, along with books by Alice Sebold, James Baldwin, Maya Angelou, Robert Cormier, and my friend and fellow YA author Jay Asher.

The reason? They say our books are “pornographic” and “X-rated,” and “contain sex, murder, suicide and homoeroticism,” subjects teens should not be reading about. They call it “smut.”

On this very same day, I received thirty-six messages from teens between the ages of 13 and 17, who thanked me for reminding them that they aren’t alone. Who thanked me for talking about issues that people don’t like to talk about. Who let me know that because of All the Bright Places, they have decided to seek help, to keep fighting, to live.

Here is one of those messages:

I’m no one special or anything, but after reading “All the bright places” I’ve realised that I don’t need to be special to be loved, I just have to be who I am. Most people don’t realise that books can speak to you on a much deeper level than almost anything in the world. There are no words to explain how thankful I am for “All the bright places.“ The words written on the pages saved me from the darkness I felt inside. Whenever I feel blue I pick up your book and drift away into the lives of Violet and Finch where I’m no longer lonely and can feel something other than pain.

Your characters have given me hope and I am able to see the bright in the darker days. Maybe one day I’ll write a book of my own for young people like me, one that tells them that they matter, no matter what adults say. No matter what parents say. One that helps them rediscover their emotion and let them know they’re loved. But for now I have to continue recovering.

Thank you for talking to me about things adults won’t. Thank you for giving me and others like me a voice when so many people aren’t listening. Thank you for teaching me how to live and be in a world full of darkness.

Here is another:

You saved my life. Your books mean everything to me. You inspired me. You helped me to understand my depression. All of this is true. I really mean it. Five years ago I started to understand that the thoughts I had weren’t okay to have. I thought about horrible things, a lot. I was only twelve at this point, and I thought that I could fix myself without any help. There were some good days and some very bad days. I was scared people will judge me. I know how most adults talk about depressed people. They think depressed people want attention. That they just want to be seen. I lived in fear that somebody would notice my scars or my anxiety attacks.

Now you probably think Why are you telling me your whole life story? Well I needed to tell somebody and I knew you would understand. All the Bright Places has showed me what the effect of suicide is on the people close to you. You showed me a reason to keep fighting, and I’m so thankful for it. I love you and you make me feel lovely and wanted. Thank you for being one of the reasons I want to stay alive.

The parents of Lemont High School students can ban my book, but here is my promise to you, my readers:

I will never stop writing about serious issues or reminding you you’re not alone, no matter how many adults might want me to.

I will always be here to tell you: you are wanted, you are loved, YOU ARE SEEN.