When readers (sometimes) get it wrong
A Small Prelude: This post might just get me blacklisted.I hope not. I'd like to hear others' thoughts on this topic.And I hope it's a conversation about how and why we love books.
This weekend, I read a YA novel (Young Adult novel) called Riptide by Lindsey Scheibe. I picked it up at the Writers' League Conference in Austin two weeks ago, and cracked it open for a light summer read as I curled up in bed. I teach a university course on coming-of-age themes, so YA literature is more than a "guilty pleasure."(Oh that I could teach a course on wine-tasting.)
http://www.amazon.com/dp/0738735949
Riptide was not a light summer romance, which is what I thought it might be from the cover. It's a story of two teens, best friends who have fallen in love but, for several reasons, can't bring themselves to submit to their feelings. Grace Parker surfs to forget about her troubled home life and her confusing feelings for her best friend, Ford. And Ford is entangled in a tricky employment situation with Grace's father, which prevents him from confessing his love to Grace. Both Grace and Ford narrate alternating chapters. Perfect setup for a book for teens.
I couldn't put the book down for long. Literally. When I needed to take my son somewhere, I put the book in my purse so I could read it at Jules' tennis lesson or the car wash or the grocery story checkout line. I am not kidding. I even pulled it from my purse at red lights so I could read a few sentences. That's kind of embarrassing to admit. This is not literary fiction. It's full of surf jargon, teen angst, and "whatev"s. It's about how teens are cruel to one another, competitive to a flaw, and how, despite our feminist advancements, both girls and boys still see each other in (and limited by) the gender-constructs of the past. But that is one reason why I couldn't get my paws off the book. I was a teenager again, feeling those angsty emotions, in spite of the safe-calm of my current life.
The other reason is this: Grace is in an abusive situation at home, and the tension is cable-tight. I knew things were going to be okay in the end, but I needed to see Grace's decision, the one that would free her. And the end of the book was satisfying. All the little plot lines didn't magically resolve, and some were left stranded. But they needed to be abandoned. That's the point of the book. Sometimes we abandon things to make the right decision in life.
I was looking forward to writing about my goofy red-light reading and to recommending this book on my blog. So I was surprised when I stumbled across a few recent reviews on Goodreads that had criticized the book, in somewhat veiled terminology, for being an "issues" book. I expected a summer romance, but got an "issues" book instead. A few others were annoyed by the surfer lingo. "Whatev" and "hella," etc. Let me just make one thing clear here:
This is a Young Adult novel. YA novels are written for teenagers. Yes, 20- and 30-somethings (and even 40-somethings) read YA novels, but the book was not written for them. Get over it.
Teenagers who speak their own dialect are not stupid. Teenagers who suffer indecision and inconsistency are psychologically normal. Intense angst over romance/love does feature prominently in the lives of many (of not most) teens. And, unfortunately, so do "issues." One in every four girls will be sexually abused by the time she's 18, according to the Dallas Children's Advocacy Center. Imagine how many others suffer from physical (beating) abuse and neglect. These are the unfortunate ones that I wrote about in a previous post. Books like Riptide tap into the heart of the unfortunate readers, those who have secrets, shame, and fear. Someone else suffers. Someone else has found a way to not only survive, but to find real love. And books like Riptide give those "fortunate" readers--those who have never suffered abuse--a gift that will enlarge their souls: compassion. If you're an adult reading YA books because you want a fun-filled summer romance, do yourself a favor and go rent Grease instead. (Or buy a Romance book instead of a YA novel.) And remember that "issues" are children's lives.
We all have high expectations of the books we read, and that's a testament to the value our society still places on literature. Or is it the value we place on our own time: "this book better be worth my precious time and meet my preconceived expectations and speak to me at a personal level!"(Go away, inner cynic. Go away.) No, I still believe that our society values books that reveal some painful experience of the human condition. And perhaps that's why there are so many enthusiastic reviews, good and bad, on sites like Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Goodreads.
Still, I think readers who review YA novels sometimes get it wrong. Book reviewers who have professional blogs are magnificent people who, much more often than not, dive into Young Adult books to remember the teenage experience, to pay homage to the coming-of-age journey that is bumpy and messy and thrilling and frustrating and magical. Not all reviewers want to return there. Or can't return there because they have bewildering high moral standards that they can't remember ever breaching. Maybe they want Summer Lovin', Grease-style. (And there's nothing wrong with Grease; I loved Grease. But Grease is not YA literature.) But please don't complain about reading an "issues" book--a book that among other things offers a glimpse into human suffering for the benefit of those who suffer and for those who love them.
A world (of kids) needs these books.
So, I'm wondering what others think about this topic. Authors AND readers. Have you read a response to a book that chapped your hide a bit because the reader expected a YA book to cater to a different audience? (a.k.a. the non-teen reader)
A last note here: I love book bloggers. I am still truly humbled when someone takes the time to read my stories, let alone review them. I hope I haven't offended book bloggers or sliced my own throat come September when Some Act of Vision is released. But I had to say something here because Riptide spoke to my old wounded, teenager's heart, and I wanted to say that books like these are important.
Your thoughts?
This weekend, I read a YA novel (Young Adult novel) called Riptide by Lindsey Scheibe. I picked it up at the Writers' League Conference in Austin two weeks ago, and cracked it open for a light summer read as I curled up in bed. I teach a university course on coming-of-age themes, so YA literature is more than a "guilty pleasure."(Oh that I could teach a course on wine-tasting.)
http://www.amazon.com/dp/0738735949Riptide was not a light summer romance, which is what I thought it might be from the cover. It's a story of two teens, best friends who have fallen in love but, for several reasons, can't bring themselves to submit to their feelings. Grace Parker surfs to forget about her troubled home life and her confusing feelings for her best friend, Ford. And Ford is entangled in a tricky employment situation with Grace's father, which prevents him from confessing his love to Grace. Both Grace and Ford narrate alternating chapters. Perfect setup for a book for teens.
I couldn't put the book down for long. Literally. When I needed to take my son somewhere, I put the book in my purse so I could read it at Jules' tennis lesson or the car wash or the grocery story checkout line. I am not kidding. I even pulled it from my purse at red lights so I could read a few sentences. That's kind of embarrassing to admit. This is not literary fiction. It's full of surf jargon, teen angst, and "whatev"s. It's about how teens are cruel to one another, competitive to a flaw, and how, despite our feminist advancements, both girls and boys still see each other in (and limited by) the gender-constructs of the past. But that is one reason why I couldn't get my paws off the book. I was a teenager again, feeling those angsty emotions, in spite of the safe-calm of my current life.
The other reason is this: Grace is in an abusive situation at home, and the tension is cable-tight. I knew things were going to be okay in the end, but I needed to see Grace's decision, the one that would free her. And the end of the book was satisfying. All the little plot lines didn't magically resolve, and some were left stranded. But they needed to be abandoned. That's the point of the book. Sometimes we abandon things to make the right decision in life.
I was looking forward to writing about my goofy red-light reading and to recommending this book on my blog. So I was surprised when I stumbled across a few recent reviews on Goodreads that had criticized the book, in somewhat veiled terminology, for being an "issues" book. I expected a summer romance, but got an "issues" book instead. A few others were annoyed by the surfer lingo. "Whatev" and "hella," etc. Let me just make one thing clear here:
This is a Young Adult novel. YA novels are written for teenagers. Yes, 20- and 30-somethings (and even 40-somethings) read YA novels, but the book was not written for them. Get over it.
Teenagers who speak their own dialect are not stupid. Teenagers who suffer indecision and inconsistency are psychologically normal. Intense angst over romance/love does feature prominently in the lives of many (of not most) teens. And, unfortunately, so do "issues." One in every four girls will be sexually abused by the time she's 18, according to the Dallas Children's Advocacy Center. Imagine how many others suffer from physical (beating) abuse and neglect. These are the unfortunate ones that I wrote about in a previous post. Books like Riptide tap into the heart of the unfortunate readers, those who have secrets, shame, and fear. Someone else suffers. Someone else has found a way to not only survive, but to find real love. And books like Riptide give those "fortunate" readers--those who have never suffered abuse--a gift that will enlarge their souls: compassion. If you're an adult reading YA books because you want a fun-filled summer romance, do yourself a favor and go rent Grease instead. (Or buy a Romance book instead of a YA novel.) And remember that "issues" are children's lives.
We all have high expectations of the books we read, and that's a testament to the value our society still places on literature. Or is it the value we place on our own time: "this book better be worth my precious time and meet my preconceived expectations and speak to me at a personal level!"(Go away, inner cynic. Go away.) No, I still believe that our society values books that reveal some painful experience of the human condition. And perhaps that's why there are so many enthusiastic reviews, good and bad, on sites like Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Goodreads.
Still, I think readers who review YA novels sometimes get it wrong. Book reviewers who have professional blogs are magnificent people who, much more often than not, dive into Young Adult books to remember the teenage experience, to pay homage to the coming-of-age journey that is bumpy and messy and thrilling and frustrating and magical. Not all reviewers want to return there. Or can't return there because they have bewildering high moral standards that they can't remember ever breaching. Maybe they want Summer Lovin', Grease-style. (And there's nothing wrong with Grease; I loved Grease. But Grease is not YA literature.) But please don't complain about reading an "issues" book--a book that among other things offers a glimpse into human suffering for the benefit of those who suffer and for those who love them.
A world (of kids) needs these books.
So, I'm wondering what others think about this topic. Authors AND readers. Have you read a response to a book that chapped your hide a bit because the reader expected a YA book to cater to a different audience? (a.k.a. the non-teen reader)
A last note here: I love book bloggers. I am still truly humbled when someone takes the time to read my stories, let alone review them. I hope I haven't offended book bloggers or sliced my own throat come September when Some Act of Vision is released. But I had to say something here because Riptide spoke to my old wounded, teenager's heart, and I wanted to say that books like these are important.
Your thoughts?
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