This message is for teens. I can’t stop adults from reading it, but I’M NOT TALKING TO YOU. Okay? Okay.
So. The Current State of YA Literature. It’s a hot topic, yes? And I have something to say to you about it.
It doesn’t effing matter.
No, seriously. It doesn’t.
There’ve been a slew of articles lately on why YA sucks, or, sometimes, why it sucks too hard. (Slate. WSJ.) I’m not linking to them. You’ve either seen them, or you haven’t. Or you can Google them. Either way, it DOESN’T EFFING MATTER.
You know what? Read what you want to. I mean, yes, read what you’ve been assigned in school. That stuff? It’s worthwhile. It changes you. It broadens you. Besides, you’re being graded on it.
Outside the classroom? On your own time? Ready? Again. It doesn’t effing matter.
There is brilliant literature out there, written just for you. There’s also pointless mind candy that is poorly written but often has great kissing or a rocking story line. If you want to read that? READ IT. It’s not going to kill you. It’s okay to want to be changed by a book you read. To be touched by it. It’s also okay to want to lay across your bed on a Saturday afternoon and read about something more interesting and vastly sexier – literally or figuratively – than what’s going on in your own life.
I’m sorry so many adults think that just because you read or see something, you’ll go do it. I don’t get that. I really don’t. Make your own decisions about books, just the way you make your own decisions about the rest of your life. Is it good to have people you trust to make recommendations? Sure. I’m 33 and I still have friends (and a mom) who I go to when I don’t know what to do in real life. And I have friends who I ask for advice on what I should read.
Then I look through all those suggestions and pick what’s right for me. I know you do this, too. Probably you haven’t been doing it very long, because you’re just finally old enough to have control over your own life to make your own choices. You’re practicing. You’re imperfect. Surprise! Adults are, too. This means you’re probably going to screw up, both in life and in choice of reading material.
I’m sorry, because that’s going to suck. But we all do it. Huge bonus to books? Picking the wrong one won’t ruin your life. Just sayin’.
Don’t listen to the crappy article writers who want to moan about what you are or are not reading. Don’t listen to the authors pushing their own books, me included. Don’t listen to the ads or the commercials or the huge zeitgeist that weighs down on you ALL THE FREAKING TIME. You know what? I’m going to get HUNG for this, but don’t listen to your parents. Okay. Wait. Listen to your parents. They’re important. But the thing is, they aren’t always right either.
Deep down inside each of you, there’s a voice that tells you what you should do. What you should read. Who you should be. And as the years go by and everyone and everything falls away little by little – it’s that voice you’ll have to answer to. When you’re 33 and standing in a book store, with a job I hope you’ve picked and a life I hope you’ve chosen . . . you’ll still have the same freedom you do RIGHT NOW. Which is to pick up the book that speaks to you, right then, and read it. If it wasn’t your own inner voice guiding your hand, then we have all failed you, the writers and the parents and everyone.
Life is huge and hard and scary, and we’re all just doing the best we can, which is often not all that well. We’re all searching for those little shining moments of brilliance and rightness that say yes. I have chosen and I have chosen well.
Choose well. For yourself.
Because the rest of it?
It doesn’t effing matter.
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