Writing YA: My Response to Slate

The most recent YA dustup revolves around author Katie Crouch’s take on “Writing YA Fiction” for Slate. It’s a cringe-inducing and infuriating read, not only because it is almost aggressively unprofessional (YA readers don’t care about good writing! Writing sex scenes makes us squirmy!), but also because it smacks of minstrelsy: “Hey, world. I don’t take myself seriously, so feel free not to take me seriously either.” Crouch doesn’t seem to have read widely in the genre. She’s a litfic author, and though she claims “there’s no shame in Y.A. these days” (was there ever?), she seems almost giddily desperate to let us know that, for her, writing YA is just a lark.

Poor Crouch has already been taken to task (most brilliantly by Courtney Summers), so I’m going to leave off beating her about the head and shoulders. But I’m often asked about the appeal of writing and reading YA and Crouch’s answer is so very far from mine that I need to offer another opinion.

Crouch suggests that the driving force behind the writing and consumption of YA is wish fulfillment: “Writing Y.A. as an adult is a chance to rewrite being a teenager… It’s way better than prom.”

(I’m going to assume that Crouch is only referring to her own work and so therefore felt free to completely disregard issue-driven YA, horror, much contemporary YA, and the darker YA so railed against by Meghan Cox Gurdon in the last YA clamor.)

I’m not going to deny the pleasures of wish fulfillment in my work. I love great clothes, a makeover, and awesome powers as much as the next girl. Possibly more. But that is not what drives my writing.

In the world of YA fiction, particularly in fantasy, the darkest parts of being young can move from metaphor to reality. The external world becomes just as dangerous and dire as the internal world, physical stakes attain parity with emotional stakes. As adolescents, we get our first real glimpse of power and come to our first real understanding of powerlessness. In fantasy, those personal and the political struggles can be made manifest in the paranormal. You feel like the world is going to end? Well, it just might. You feel like this guy is using you? Turns out he’s literally trying to steal your soul.

YA fantasy isn’t just about pretty people doing naughty things in mansions or sparkly vampires who love you longtime. It’s about the inevitable conflict that arises from learning to be yourself in the world. It’s about the havoc our decisions can wreak, the damage we do and the damage done to us. Sometimes the world is a post-apocalyptic dystopia, sometimes it’s a glittering palace full of schemers, sometimes it’s Brooklyn. But the goal is almost always the same: survive, become better, live unafraid.

That’s why I write fantasy. That’s why I write YA. And for the record, my prom sucked.



Filed under Writing

18 responses to “Writing YA: My Response to Slate

  1. Dude. My prom (junior year) sucked, too. I left after 45 minutes. Then didn’t even bother going to my senior prom. *high five*

    LOVED this post, Leigh! Really well-put!!!

    This is the best line ever: “YA fantasy isn’t just about pretty people doing naughty things in mansions or sparkly vampires who love you longtime.”

  2. Both of my proms were craptastic. One was just dull and the other ended with a rather harrowing ride in tipsy theater geek’s BMW. Glamorous, no?

    And you, Gretchen, are the wind beneath my wings.

  3. Hey, I didn’t even ATTEND my prom!
    Outstanding response, Leigh. Nothing irritates me more than “know it alls” writing about, well, stuff they know nothing about! You rock.

  4. Perfectly said! Thanks:)

    Now I _really_ can’t wait to read your book:D

  5. I tell my writing students all the time: Genre is not a short cut. It’s just a different set of basic conventions.
    You have to love what you write, and if you love it, you hold it to a high standard. Don’t write sci fi if you don’t read it and love it, and don’t write short stories if you don’t read them and love them.
    And certainly don’t write something you love and then condescend to it on Slate.

    You make me want to read and write fantasy, Leigh!

  6. I’m not sure I will ever get enough of that prom pic.

    Actually, Sara, you and Michi really need to meet. I think your combined awesome might actually bring about the apocalypse.

  7. Perfect response — and hilarious.

    I’m guessing all the dripping condescension towards YA these days is because of how successful so many YA titles have been. Crouch casually tosses off a line about the litfic books “no one” is waiting for (admittedly in an attempt to be self-mocking), but blazes past the question her observation begs: why is it, again, that “no one” is waiting for those far superior tomes?

  8. Great response to the article–feel the *same* way!

  9. Holy smokes, I love this post.

  10. My prom was nothing special. I went with a guy friend, we got our picture taken, we left. But then, I was not the kind of girl to have fantasies about it either 🙂

    Oh, and the reason I write YA is similar to yours + the fact that YA is the most exciting, creative atmosphere these days. Love it!

  11. I’m so glad you wrote this, and articulated what I was incapable of saying. A friend forwarded me the article and as I read it, I felt paralyzed by the wrongness (where! to! start!) and unable to form the response I wanted to send back. Maybe I’ll direct him here instead.

  12. Really fabulous post, Leigh.

  13. Poor authors, the stooped down to write YA. Mother#$%^&*(s

    It gets under my skin. These people that their they’re so above it. Like we’re not real writers because we write kids books.

  14. Lori

    Reblogged this on Betwined Reads and commented:
    I’ve been thinking a lot about why people read and write YA. I’m re-blogging because I’ve been working on my own novel and wanted to share something that is still relevant six years later. WOW!

  15. Pingback: EP 06: Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom by Leigh Bardugo | Young Adult AF

  16. Pingback: Leigh Bardugo: Why Weakness Is My YA Heroine’s Greatest Strength | Bookish

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