The Cost of Connection: Reaching Young Readers Without Compromise
Young readers have always been the heart of myaudience. It is where I started my publishing journey twenty years ago, and Icontinue to write for them in my Draconim and MacIver Kids series. My storiesare written for them—their grief, their fire, their fierce sense of justice.But I’ve also known I couldn’t, in good conscience, invite them into the samedigital spaces that constantly exploit their attention, data, and trust.
From the beginning, I chose not to collectdata through my author website. No mailing lists, no subscriber pop-ups, nopersonalized ads. Not because I didn’t want to grow—I did, and still do—butbecause I could never guarantee that data, once gathered, would be fullysecure. And I wasn’t willing to risk the safety of the very readers I hoped toreach. Recent headlines—like “Hackers are targeting a surprising group ofpeople: young public school students” (OPB), “” (Tom's Guide), and “Children's data hacked afterschool software firm missed basic security step” (NBC)—should raise both ourhackles and our awareness. If even large institutions can’t protect children’sdata, how can we?
It’s a quiet stance. One that looks a lot likedoing nothing. In a publishing world that rewards metrics, funnels, growthcurves, and mailing list conversions, my refusal can seem naive orself-sabotaging, and perhaps it is. After all, I depend entirely on booksales—and limiting the tools I can use to reach readers is counterproductive.
But it has always felt necessary.
A LoopholeCulture
Social media has long been a tool used toskirt the very laws and codes designed to protect young people. Take forinstance the “Broadcast Code for Advertising To Children” in Canada. Itincludes clauses like “Children’s advertising must not directly urge childrento purchase or urge them to ask their parents to make inquiries or purchases.” and“Direct response techniques that invite the audience to purchase products orservices are prohibited.” These principles exist in many countries in someform—yet across the board, enforcement is inconsistent, and social platformsoften act as if they exist above those rules. Laws like COPPA in the U.S. orGDPR-K in Europe were intended to shield minors from exploitation, but theirenforcement has been limited—especially when it comes to influencer-stylecontent and microtargeted outreach.
Advertising to children is supposed to bestrictly regulated—on paper, at least. In practice, platforms like TikTok andInstagram offer frictionless access to teen and youth audiences, and authorsare often encouraged to "just be authentic" as a workaround to theadvertising rules that apply more directly to traditional media.
The problem is, many of us aren’t just beingauthentic. We’re building brands. We’re tracking engagement. We’re optimizinghashtags, timing posts, and nudging readers toward buy links. And if that’s notadvertising, it’s close enough to feel uncomfortable—especially when we’redoing it in a space where our readers are young, impressionable, and ofteninvisible behind anonymous handles.
It’s not that I blame authors for using thesetools. The pressure to be visible in an attention economy is enormous,especially for indie creators without a marketing department behind them. But Ido think we need to talk more honestly about what we’re doing when we usesocial media as our primary path to young readers.
Many find reassurance in using trustedplatforms to manage their mailing lists. These tools offer a layer ofprotection—but is it enough? And is the platform you're using compliant withthe privacy laws of every country your readers might live in? How many of ushave downloaded our subscriber lists to a personal device, just in case—and howsecure is that laptop, really?
A NewLandscape, Or Just a Clearer One?
With the UK’s new child safety regulationscoming into force—laws that challenge how platforms host content likely to beseen by minors—we may be entering a new phase. Not a surprising one, but aclarifying one.
These changes could make it harder for YAauthors to reach their intended audience directly. Algorithms may become lesspredictable. Accounts may be flagged, content shadowbanned, or reach throttled.And while that may feel like a setback, it might also be a long-overdue signal:the system we’ve all been relying on was never built for this kind of outreach.Not ethically. Not safely.
At the same time, the alternative paths weonce relied on—the slow, steady routes through schools and libraries—arebecoming less accessible too.
TheGatekeepers Are Shifting
Once, we relied on librarians, teachers, andbooksellers to act as bridges between authors and young readers. But in an eraof rising book bans, state-mandated curriculum restrictions, and moral panicover what young people should be “allowed” to read, those bridges are burning.
The people most qualified to guide youthtoward challenging, expansive, and compassionate stories are under siege. Andin many cases, it’s indie authors—especially those writing about climate,queerness, neurodiversity, or racial justice—who are most likely to be lockedout of institutional channels.
We are being squeezed from both ends: told notto market to teens and youth directly, while also losing the allies who oncehelped us reach them responsibly.
Do We NeedMore Laws, or Just Better Ones?
One could argue that what we really need istighter digital regulation—more protection for minors, clearer rules aroundconsent and data, and harsher penalties for platforms that fail to comply.
But part of me wonders: do we need newlaws, or do we just need to enforce the ones we already have? And shouldn’tthose same standards apply not just to corporations with billion-dollar adbudgets, but to the everyday content creators who are (often unwittingly)playing by the same exploitative playbook?
What would it look like to create outreachstrategies that serve young readers without exposing them? What would itmean to design tools that indie authors could use—tools designed with care, notconversion—in mind?
What ComesNext?
I don’t have perfect answers—or any answerreally, only questions. I only know that I want to reach young readers withoutcompromising their safety—or my ethics. I want to be part of a world wherestories meant for teens can find teens without relying on the samesystems that have failed them in every other way.
So I’ll end this with a question: what wouldhelp us get there?
If you're a parent, indie author, publisher,bookseller, librarian, coder, educator—anyone asking the same questions—I'dlove to hear your thoughts. What tools do we need? What models could we build?And what would it look like to imagine a future where our connection to youngreaders is built on trust, not surveillance?
Let’s talk. Share your thoughts andsuggestions in the comments here, or on Threads.
And if you don’t have answers yet—that’s okay.I don’t either. This isn’t a test, it’s an invitation. A space to wonder, toquestion, to imagine something better—together.
I know, I know, I know...
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