The Line Between Books for Young Adults and Adults

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(This post is written in response to a subscriber’s question)

In Martha Brooks’ wonderful (and Governor General’s award-winning) novel, True Confessions of a Heartless Girl, Brooks breaks one of the “rules” of writing for young people: she opens the story in the mind of one of the aged seventy-something characters. This character, whose voice pulls us into the story and the setting, and sets a tone, is not a person you’d expect a teen or younger reader to welcome.

But Brooks makes it work. The story is imbued with respect—for all ages. I believe it is this quality in her writing that allows her to pull off this opening.

What also makes the difference between a young reader completing True Confessions of a Heartless Girl or setting it down and never opening again, is that even though we do come to understand that “other humans around us have issues, too” (always a good thing to be reminded of!) ultimately the focus of the story is very much the life and challenges of Noreen—the seventeen year old main character—as a seventeen year old.

So what are these “principles?” (Let’s call them ‘principles’ instead of “rules”—and remember that principles can be broken, especially if replaced with something better— Robert McKee’s thought on the subject).

Age of protagonist:

This might be the simplest marker (and most unreliable, too!) of what is YA and what is adult. Generally, the protagonist is aged 15-19, and in writing for adults, over twenty. (Of course, marketing folks have now created the NA—new adult—category—which has been created to deal with exactly what we are looking at here: the fuzzy Line. NA—in brief—straddles the line.)

And yes, you can find adult books with a sixteen year old protagonist, and YA books with older characters. There are always exceptions! But it is the approach, the way the story is told. Let’s look at the actual writing—which is what matters for us as writers (and not marketing people!) and the intended audience. Adults might pick up your YA book, but in the end, they are responsible for their own growth and well-being; they are not your responsibility.

Voice:

The voice of a YA novel is significant. And not easy. S.E. Hinton famously began writing The Outsiders at age fifteen and finished at seventeen, before she even knew an adult voice! (Re-read the novel if you need a feel for what is “voice.”)

This principle of “authentic teen voice” might be the one can’t-break-this-rule for writing YA. Without a teen voice, it’s an adult book. This is a difficult quality to pin down... but if you read two dozen YA novels, or more, you will hear it.

No matter where we are in our own lives and our understanding of the world around us, growing up is still growing up... Each person has to go through maturation, and although each path is unique, there are still shared steps. Books give young readers the time and space to process these steps. This is what drew me to reading through the growing up years; if I needed to pause and re-read for understanding, or reassurance, I could do that. Sometimes, I had to put a book down and go out and live a bit, just to absorb what it was saying; this is growing up.

This is also the irreplaceable magic of literature, and why “the book” will not go away any time soon. Films give us an outsider’s view—we are never truly in a character’s mind (or not without copious voice-overs, which no one would enjoy). Songs can give us emotional nuggets—if they're good, and going for “nugget” over happy-making, or entertaining.

Literature is ideal for growing as a human, and YA books are critical in that.

But in order for a young reader to connect with your story you need “voice.” You can have a quiet, introverted character—not an easy write—but their inner voice can be strong, and becomes the voice of the story-telling.

Ideally, as a YA writer, you can recall the details of how it is to be a young adult—the reality, the expectations, the desires, the emotions (the hormones!), the choices. And all the “firsts.”

Firsts:

Write out a list of all the “firsts” in the life of a young person, and reflect. You might keep a journal for a character to record thoughts on one or more of these first—do this if you are struggling with voice and story ideas.

Even though the journey is different for each of us, we still have to find our place in the world, discover who we are, what we are about. This is why there are “typical” themes and/or tropes in YA works… all those pieces that should—should—be in place as we enter the “adult” world.

While some of us continue to seek, define, redefine, there is a natural time and place in our lives for this adolescent-to-adult growth, and that is the stretch of path between being a young teen and being an “adult.” That is the stuff of the YA novel.

A maturing young person has to deal with sexuality, relationships, friendships, as well as that Thing of “What do you want to be when you grow up?” An adult book, dealing with these questions in the same way, would be a story of a rather dysfunctional individual, and have a retrospective tone.

Fifteen to nineteen is a relatively brief number of years. But think back—did it not feel like a life-time? The amount of learning, growth, and change in those years is exponential.

Tense and POV:

Often the voice of a YA novel is written as first person or a really tight third person, and it’s often written in present tense, with the reason being “for a sense of immediacy.” (Talking about past and present tense, and why one might choose present should be whole other post! For now, I will say that a close third written in past can also seem very immediate, but must be done with thought. One approach to ascertain if you are “getting it right” is to write a passage/chapter first in present tense and first person, and then switch. Or, if already written in third/past, then re-do, and see where it falls apart… or if it does.)

Regardless of your choices, the significant piece is that in a YA novel there’s a real sense that “today is right where I am.” The young person does not think ahead too far—indeed, the average young person struggles with thinking too far ahead (this can cause a lot of stress—something we are seeing too often in our world now).

Adult novels can have a retrospective tone—even diving back into a character's childhood—leaving people to think “this is a book for kids” when it is not at all. In an adult novel, the voice, tone, and tense does not need this immediacy—the sense that the reader is right there for the ride. When you spend time with young people (and they may change it up if you oldie are hanging around!) you can feel this energy. That energy goes into the pages and words of a YA book.

YA readers do not want an “older and wiser” tone. They get enough of that at school and home. They want their literature to be experiential—they want to go through the trial and error process of growth, in the privacy of the pages, without a critical or advising voice.

Themes:

After talking about the growth a young person does at this point in their lives, it should be clear that the themes, the content, of a YA novel are significant. It really is tough—if it does not come naturally—to place yourself solidly in that time of life when every decision feels to be heavily weighted.

A young person is reading to learn (though they not acknowledge that); they are at the ground-up stage, looking at adult ideas and ways-of-being, and gathering knowledge about adult life. This, really, is the key difference (and challenge). In adult writing and reading, the reader is already familiar with sex, violence, and more—or at least the idea of it. For the young reader, it is new, and they are processing all of it. You, writer, are giving them a way to approach that processing. And you can’t throw them into a scene of violence, of sexuality, of “adult” world, without guiding—though the guiding is behind the scenes and light-handed.

Respect, a sense of responsibility, maybe gentleness—if not on the page, then in your approach. If on the page, it might seem patronizing. Find a word for this that works for you: respect; kindness; acceptance; openness… think of the possibilities. Maybe patience. When it comes to writing for people younger that yourself, you have to examine your feelings and beliefs about them. There is no reason to be writing for this age group, if you’d feel more at ease writing for another.

Emotional setting

So how does Martha Brooks get away with opening her story with an aged character?

In both reading and writing, the sub-conscious plays significant roles. I have no way of knowing what beginning Brooks created the story with… is this it? Or did she do a number of re-writes? How conscious was she of her choices?

I do know that in having an ageing female character be the opening voice, Brooks draws the reader into the weaving of many threads of her story and her telling of it: that of the town itself, the place; the thought that all ages of people work together to co-create life. In not introducing the main character first, Brooks delays having the reader meet up with a girl who is, in fact, rather unlikable—at least, some readers might not be drawn to her. So Brooks creates something else. I’ll call it the “emotional setting”—setting that goes beyond time/place.

Subconsciously, the reader is led to this “place”—both town and heart—evident in the physical setting of ‘restaurant’ in those early pages, too. And altogether she evokes a world in which people might become unexpected allies. She evokes kindness. When the reader does meet the main character, the tough Noreen, we’re set up by this emotional openness, and we are prepared to be sympathetic. The opening and aged voice is one of sympathy.

Do find a copy of this book, and read—see what you think about this opening. Post your thoughts.

Respect

We talk about ‘voice appropriation’ in the arts-and-creating world, but the truth of writing for all young people is that we—adult writers—are appropriating voices we no longer have. And while it may be a key difference from other modes of appropriation, that at some point we had those voices ourselves, truth is, we no longer do. We’ve been tossed out of that garden, never to return. So when we tiptoe back in, we need to go with care. With respect.

Respect allows us to write effectively for young people.

Thought? comments? questions? Please post!