And They Hummed of Mystery

Preach, Taystee.

Lately, I've been reflecting on a lot of the YA books that I've read, and on how the category typically treats the topics of sex, innocence, purity, and romantic affection. I've shared my woes before in previous posts about the nonsensical perfect first times that teenage heroines experience, and I've challenged the idea of magical young love where everything works out in end. While these are issues in YA that I've been able to recognize throughout the countless novels I've poured through, I think it's time we really look at how we, as writers, should be addressing sex in our stories.

I'll be honest. I don't read a whole lot of YA contemporary these days. Unless it's something that has been personally recommended, I don't actively seek out novels in this genre because it doesn't really appeal to me at this point in my life. I do, however, read my weight in YA fantasy/sci-fi/adventure. No matter what the genre is, YA is a very progressive category, and you can really see the changes it has gone through over the years. However, sex seems to be an exception in that progression. When The Hunger Games was released, every heroine was almost expected to be completely naive and virginal, like Katniss Everdeen, when it came to sex. In fact, it was barely even mentioned, much less displayed. Even now, many of these protagonists don't have their first sexual experience until the final act of the story, and that is usually with a love interest whom she trusts, adores, and has endured endless hardships with. There are a few that break the mold, but most of them hold up these ideals of waiting for love and having minimal partners and keeping their limited sex lives completely private.

Sure. That is the ideal in the minds of a lot of people. We all know that YA is not immune to the scrutiny of parents, administrators, and just any adult with something to say about those overly hormonal teenagers. Sex is still something that has a lot of boundaries when it comes to what is considered acceptable to show and to talk about. Many parents don't want their children reading books where sex is present, much less prominent. This likely comes from the hopes that their own teens will maintain the pure nature of characters like Katniss, and refrain from sexual experiences. For a multitude of reasons, there's a sheltering attitude built around these chaste heroines, and anything that deviates from that could cause any kind of controversy.

But here's the truth. Sex is a part of teenagers' lives, whether they're having it, talking about it, or just endlessly wondering about it. It is an undeniable presence that they're going to be faced with in some way or another.


And here's another truth: very few teenagers are going to have sexual encounters that compare to the picture perfect, sugar coated scenes that bring many of the YA characters we love together in a magical way that doesn't hurt, isn't awkward, and never results in any sort of shame or physical or emotional consequences. It goes far beyond the fact that we never see these characters pause to ask questions or use any sort of protection. They're saving the world, so who has time for condoms, right?

Here's one way to look at it. There are two types of teenagers reading these novels: those who have had sex, and those who haven't. I know. Duh. But one half of this demographic is going to be wondering what his or her first time will be like, while the other half may still be trying to figure out the emotions and repercussions of his or her first, second or one hundredth time. An author should be able to speak to both of these groups, and make an effort not to set up ridiculous and flawed expectations for their virgin readers, while also reaching out to those who have had sex, in whatever capacity, expressing reassurance that he or she doesn't need to feel ashamed or regretful or defective if their sexual history can't measure up to what they're reading. Sex is weird, okay? It's a situation in which physical and emotional insecurities are laid bare in front of another person, open to their judgment and scrutiny. It's a way to use someone, play games with someone, and even humiliate someone if that is the desired effect. Yes. It can be 'magical'. No. It's not always as big of a deal as people make it out to be. You can sleep with one person or twenty or two hundred and you are of no lesser value than someone who remains abstinent.

No matter how clear this can be, there will always be critical eyes ready to shut down a book that dares to suggest something other than a path of purity. Of course, everyone believes what they are going to believe, but there needs to be a wider representation of the teenage sexual experience. As of right now, it's pretty one sided. There's only vague, implied true-love-sex or no sex at all, which is wildly inaccurate in the throes of real life.


So I'm not a parent. I've never had to raise up a young human and teach them how to value themselves and what not to listen to in the buzzing world around them. I have, however, been that young human. I was taught that sex and intimacy were reserved only for the safety of a marriage and that anything else was wrong and cause for shame. Though I'm sure it wasn't intended, this was supported by a lot of the YA books I read when I was younger. There has been an endless debate regarding the accessibility to sex education amongst teenagers, and the same arguments can likely be made for the accessibility to sex in YA. If we display characters who like sex, have sex beyond that one perfect first time, and talk about sex outside of conservative boundaries, are we 'permitting' the act itself? Encouraging it? Making it out the be the 'norm'? Of course, there is no black and white answer. I think we can make a rather strong conclusion that if teens want to have sex, they're going to do it regardless of what books they read.

However, there is certainly a lot of progress to be made in the ways the sex is portrayed. Because right now, we're not really keeping it real. I want to read about heroines who are not defined by the boy she loses or already lost her virginity to. It can be nothing more than a small detail in her life. I don't want to see virgins on pedestals and I certainly don't want to see anymore obscure, unprotected love scenes that do nothing more than play it safe and build impossible expectations. Just like with every other social, ethical, and cultural topic addressed in YA, we have a responsibility to our readers to write with honesty, sensitivity, and a general understanding of the vulnerable stage of life that our target audience is in. We've all been there, and we always need to be conscious of the messages we send out to those finding solace in our words.

We all know that young adult books aren't just meant for young adults. I'll be reading them until the day I die because they have so much to offer and they are just too good to ignore.
However.
I can't be the only one who has noticed that the young protagonists in these stories don't always match the age assigned to them. Don't you ever feel like you're reading about a thirty-year-old in a teenage body? Especially in scifi and fantasy, these are high stakes stories that require quick thinking, rational decision making, and a good amount of selflessness. Even most adults struggle with these in the regular world, yet we're reading about seventeen and sixteen-year-olds who always seem to pull it together in plenty of time to save the day. Granted, a lot of these characters grow up in much more gritty and savage environments that force them to grow up quickly and resourcefully. Many of them are masters in weaponry and warfare before the rest of us could even pass algebra. The teenagers we were or are and the others we've known are probably pretty different from the heroes and heroines we read about.


So. It's an observation, but is it a problem? Does is matter that books in YA can sometimes fail to reflect the real personalities of its target audience? They build lives for characters in which love is real the first time, you know who you are by the time you're sixteen, and the sex is always perfect. I'm not implying that real teenagers are nothing more than a bunch of degenerates. Believe me, I think they're more valuable to society than anyone gives them credit for.
But.
Even if a character is facing battle fields or evil wizards or quests through alternate dimensions, they are still going to hit the universal obstacles we all endured when we were teenagers. Puberty. Hormones. Pimples. Crushes. Body Shaming. Self Doubt. These are all things that tripped us up as we trudged through those high school halls, so why do so many YA heroes and heroines get to skip right past the awkward first dates and sudden growth spurts? How do they look at the world and just know what the right answer is? And how-seriously, tell me how-do they get to lose their virginities under stars and waterfalls and sunsets to the person who they will without a doubt love for all eternity? I know there are plenty of reasons why nobody wants to spend time reading about teenage woes in the middle of a war, but we can't just ignore them. We can't just slap an age on a character and refuse to adapt them to the characteristics of such an important detail. Teenage brains aren't even fully developed yet, so it's almost unfair to create these adult characters and expect them to properly represent the age group they are supposed to portray.


But here's the thing. We really, really don't want the angst. It's a pretty universal conclusion that the whole brooding, pissed off teenager does qualify as a marketable protagonist. We know the extents to which authors must go to bend for the business of publishing, and they have to create characters that readers will flock towards and cheer for throughout the trilogies and film adaptions. They also want to produce a story that will attract a wide range of readers outside of the YA community.
So is there some sort of balance? Maybe a compromise?
Maybe you don't even see this as a problem.
For me, as a reader, I find it a bit deceptive and even a bit lazy to neglect the teenage mind when writing teenage characters. People in this age group are complex, complicated, and fascinating if you pay the right kind of attention to them. It is entirely possible to present believable young adult characters who don't have to mold to that insufferable stereotype.
A perfect example of this is Cassie Sullivan from Rick Yancey's The 5th Wave. She manages to bridge the gap between real life teenager and YA heroine while roping us into a story in which she breaks our hearts, makes us laugh and more often than not causes us all to say 'same'. Yancey took the expected sarcastic nature of teenagers and mixed it with Cassie's own personal brand of wit and snark. Through her, he addresses what it's like to have to fend for yourself when all you've know is the guidance of your parents. He displays the awkward, tense, confusing way she falls in love for the first time while also taking her through her own process of self evaluation. She learns and grows throughout in order to adapt to the apocalyptic environment, but she still retains the youth that so many other young protagonists seem to lack.


And while not every YA teenager is going to show his or her personality through sarcasm, there are plenty of other ways to display youth. One of the main components of YA novels in the love story, which is can often times be oversimplified by authors treating their protagonists like adults. Love is an intricate concept that takes the years of life experience to begin to understand. It is not something that automatically makes sense just because the swoon factor calls for it, and teenage relationships are not as straight forward as some YA novels would suggest.
Along with falling in love, these characters face countless situations in which they must consider the abstract ideas of right and wrong, death and life, grief and failure, and more. The teenage brain is in a process of adapting to these abstract ideas, so the very thought of them handling all of these situations in the same way an adult would is simply unrealistic.
And maybe the core problem here is that's it's just not fair to them. Teenagers offer a unique perspective on the world, and they should be able to see themselves properly represented in the books they love. And for the adult readers, we should be able to find common ground with them as we reconnect with our time in that age group. Forever young at heart, right? We shouldn't create a standard where actual, realistic teenagers aren't worthy of a reader following. We should not only display, but celebrate the facets of their developing minds.

Often times, it's easy to see how the books we read reflect the current events and topics of the world we live in. Whether it's our obsession with reality TV, the flaws of the class system, or cultural divides, young adult literature has probably addressed it in one way or another. The category serves well as a vessel for ideas and as an amplifier for young voices weighing in on the issues of society.

And now, in 2016, few issues are more prominent than feminism.

When I was growing up, I was surrounded by children's movies and shows in which a prince saved a princess and the greatest arc of the story was the dazzling discovery of true love. I wore elaborate dresses for Halloween, idolizing characters like Belle and Aurora as I dreamed of that perfect prince coming to sweep me off my feet. Who didn't just die when Hercules was willing to sacrifice himself in order to save Meg? And oh my goodness when Aladdin took Jasmine out to 'show her the world' it became #goals before #goals were even a thing.
Many of us grew up with this general recipe of heroes and damsels and formulaic romance. We swooned over The Notebook, watching that rain scene over and over and over. Jack Dawson gave us all the feels, causing countless sexual awakenings with his hair flip and drawing skills. Everything we were exposed to was heavy on the romance, from Disney to Barbie and Ken to whatever we watched when our parents weren't looking. This seemed to present us with this idea that being validated by a man was some sort of ultimate goal.

And then came the world of YA, which is generally written by women and has been constantly developing and adapting when it comes to gender roles, male and female stereotypes, and, of course, the ideas behind feminism. It took the readers who grew up believing that their greatest accomplishment would be to become a half of a prince/princess combo and gave them leading ladies like Katniss Everdeen and Ruby Daly and Viola Eade, who, among many others, defy these outdated concepts and give an authentic life and strength to the female character. These women hold their own, fighting in wars and saving loved ones and just being flat out brave and badass. They certainly do not need a man to give them value, and their love stories are only a small part of what makes up their characters. YA has been ahead of its time in many ways, creating these powerful heroines that perfectly counter the damsels we loved and thought we needed to be.


As feminism gains power with each passing day, YA writers are moving right along with it.  Heroines no longer need to be innocent virgins when we are introduced to them, and they have come to embrace their sexuality (which brings about a whole new topic, which I'll probably write about in the coming weeks). Genders roles are all but abolished, as the women are often the ones taking on the biggest burdens and they end up saving their male counterparts. They operate on an equal level with the boys, and don't tend to get caught up in handsome jawlines and shiny muscles like they used to. Today's heroines are tough, witty, intelligent, and do not have time for anyone's shit. If they made an army of every badass leading lady on the bookstore shelves today, no one on the opposing side would stand a chance.

While this a great way to create role models for young readers and to help break the rusty chains of sexism, there are also a few things I've noticed in my recent reads that threw me off as a reader, writer, and a woman. I just finished a new release that prides itself on its timely themes and feminist attitude. It featured a heroine who, while she did fit into every requirement of a strong, able female character, I just could not relate to or even get on board with. You see, this girl was so strong, resilient and smart that she almost stopped feeling like a real person. Everyone around her put her on a golden pedestal and could only ever talk about how amazing she was, and every man was practically throwing themselves at her feet. She always had an answer and was hardly ever in any state of worry or even concern. The only problems in her life were brought on by other people, making her seem better than everyone around her. Sorry not sorry, but this is not only bullshit because no one is that perfect, but it completely defeats the true purpose of feminism. I've seen this happening in quite a few of the YA books that have been coming out in the last couple of years. It's as if the authors are so hellbent on upholding their strong characters that they are afraid to let them have their flaws.


So, bring in Viola Davis (slay). Her character on ABC's How To Get Away With Murder is the absolute embodiment of what a true feminist character is supposed to look like. Even if you haven't seen the show, you've probably heard that Annalise Keating is one hell of a badass. She dominates in every court room she walks into, always seems to be six steps ahead of everyone else, and knows how to put you in your place. Honestly, that's #goals for you right there. She has such a powerful presence that commands to be paid attention to and Viola delivers an on point performance in every scene.

However, that's not all we get to see. Along with all the slaying, the show opens up a part of the female powerhouse character that is rarely seen or even addressed. We see this woman absolutely broken down. I remember in season one when she sat down at her mirror and took all of her makeup off and was exposed with nothing but her natural beauty. That was such a powerful moment because all women know the work we put into creating a presentable face for the world to see. But here she is, still beautiful and desired without any sort of shield or mask. Throughout the rest of the series, we've seen her laid up with a bottle of liquor and a bowl of ice cream. We've seen her in various states of defeat, finding comfort that only her mother can give or dealing with the regrets from her past in questionable ways. One of the most interesting things about Annalise is the fact that she does not always have the answer. She makes mistakes. She uses people, turns them away, and even endangers them. She is entirely flawed, which is something that makes her real and something that I feel has been lacking in some of the latest YA heroines.


As a woman, you come to see just how complex true feminism really is. Yes, we are strong. We are brave, intelligent, beautiful beings and yes, do not mess with us. BUT. It is not required nor healthy that we only be proud of the words used to describe us if they would also be used to describe a man. If you wouldn't call a man emotional, does that mean it's a quality that a woman should hide away or deny? Because here's a bombshell for you: we are not men, and we need not display only the tough side of ourselves in order to be worthy in a world that favors men. The things that separate us from men are what make being a woman unique and special, and we can't be afraid or ashamed of the wide range of qualities that make us the women that we are. For me, yes, I am strong. That does not mean I am not allowed to lose my shit or cry over nothing or be afraid. I can be fixing cattle fences and watching football one day and guzzling wine during The Bachelor the next. Women are intricate, and it's impossible to represent feminism without displaying that.

Because that's a major point of feminism: being proud of womanhood and owning it. A female character is not less because she is emotional or indecisive or capable of making a mistake, because every single woman who ever lived has made a mistake. I don't want to read a book and feel as though the heroine has reached some level of womanhood that I will just never achieve. That's not being honest to young readers, or any readers for that matter, because such a thing does not exist.
I may not have started a revolution or brought down governments or changed the world, but I've faced my own challenges in my twenty-two years. Through these challenges, you better believe that I did not always make the right decisions, if I managed to even make a decision at all. I screwed up at times, and had nothing left to do but shovel ice cream down my throat and leave the house in pajama pants. It's just how it goes, and that does not disqualify me or anyone from being a strong woman. The same applies to characters in YA, because while this is no longer the age of lovesick Disney princesses and Ryan Gosling make out sessions, it is truly the age of women finding themselves and being proud of who they are, which goes far beyond any notion of being perfectly put together like the character in that book. Everyone has flaws, and reading about characters who are just too righteous to be real is exhausting. Young readers need role models who they can see themselves in, and writers need to be brave enough to create them.

This is an age old topic. The concept of beauty has brought about countless discussions and controversies over the years, and it feels like no one is immune to the glorification of the 'ideal' human form. Young adults are particularly vulnerable to body image pressure, and the unrealistic standards set by models and actresses are more than enough to provoke insecurities and body shaming. These are likely a permanent part of the media that young adults are going to be exposed to (at least for now), but these standards and ideas should not transfer into their favorite books. While YA literature is known for its empowering nature and strong, relatable characters, it is often times guilty of only presenting heroes and heroines of a particular body type.

Of course, none of these characters are supermodels, but they do stay within certain guidelines. Let's paint the typical picture. If you pick any random heroine out of a hat, here are some likely physical traits she will have:

• White
• Thin (sometimes described as abnormally small or birdlike.)
• Short, but not too short
• Brown or blonde hair (of some variation. Dirty blonde is a popular one)
• Toned (this is usually paired with being in good physical shape, because she's likely a runner or has some sort of hobby or skill that helps her stay fit.)
• Pallid 
• Devoid of body hair (because of course everyone shaves their armpits in the middle of the apocalypse)

When it comes to heroism, what is more important: Choice or Destiny?
In young adult literature, many young protagonists fall into a game changing role because of a bloodline, birthright, or prophecy. They are the 'chosen ones,' and they have built up quite a reputation amongst readers. Iconic characters such as Harry Potter and Percy Jackson quickly come to mind, but there are many others who found their path because of a predestined factor. This can be a really intriguing aspect of the story and can be done very well, as J.K. Rowling and Rick Riordan have shown us, but it can also present some constraints to the character. In many cases, having a chosen one creates a scenario in which personal choice takes a back seat to circumstance, and it feeds the developmental limitations of young readers.

If you take a quick dive into the psychology of teenagers, it's pretty clear why these characters have a strong popularity with their target audience. Starting at around age twelve, young adults experience something called the personal fable. This is a concept that leads them to believe that they are unique and special compared to everyone around them. A teenager will look at their surroundings and feel as though they are living out an exclusive experience that no one else can understand, making them the chosen one of their everyday lives. Every teenager wants to believe they would be the one to get the Hogwarts letter or discover a magical family history. When I was in high school, I can very clearly remember feeling as though I was meant for something greater than my little teenage world, waiting faithfully for my shining moment of destiny to arrive. If it was meant to be, it should have just fallen into my lap, right?

Shockingly, I discovered that if I wanted any sort of greatness, I was going to have to work for it. This is a realization that comes with growing up and understanding that, while fate and destiny may still play a role in our lives, we are the ones who have to make the choices that lead us through our experiences. The only prophecy for us is the one we write for ourselves.

When thinking about how to approach this kind of issue, The Hero's Journey is an excellent tool and path to follow when constructing any YA protagonist. It presents the need for choice and growth and shows the development of the qualities of heroism. Remember when Samwise Gamgee stepped over that line in the field and walked away from The Shire? That crossing of the threshold was a huge moment for him and marked the beginning of a long process in which his own choices would lead him to the story's climax and resolution. Showing how a character adapts to their situation and how they handle the tests, allies, and enemies they are faced with is what really drives their story forward and makes them someone the reader keeps turning the pages for.





There are billions of people in this world, and if there ever is a chosen one, odds are it's not going to be me. In stories, those who aren't chosen matter just as much as the ones who are, and I want to root for someone who takes on challenges and fear with no promise of making it to the end. Characters don't need prophecies in order for their adventures to be heroic, and readers need protagonists who take their lives into their own hands.

As an aspiring author, I've learned to pay close attention to the different trends that are currently making their way through the young adult category. These days, time travel and a new take on the space opera seem to be on the rise. Back in high school, we just couldn't get enough paranormal romance loaded with dark tension and the brooding side of the supernatural. For a while, everyone wanted to read books about teenagers with cancer.

All of the trends typically follow the same pattern. One or two books will generate enough buzz to launch a parade of similar stories to create an "If you liked this, you'll LOVE this" table in Barnes & Noble. Series after series is published until the idea is entirely exhausted and we've all moved on to the next big thing. You have to know the market, and you have to know just how far you must go to beat this system if you're trying to give life to something that we all watched die.

Above the rest, there is one trend that swept YA readers off their feet and spawned a seemingly endless string of high stake trilogies and rebellious heroines. It arrived on the shelves with the feeling of something new and exciting for readers, igniting numerous franchises that expanded far beyond the written words. It seemed as though we couldn't get enough.

The impact it had was staggering. The death it suffered was long and agonizing. We couldn't even lift our District 12 solutes by the time it was over.

Every Tuesday and Thursday, part of my morning routine is to watch the latest video from Cinema Sins on Youtube. If you haven't checked it out, they gather all the 'sins' from famous movies and comment on them, which can be pretty funny. This week, Mockingjay Part 1 and 2 were up for scrutiny, which was hard to watch because we all know how deep my obsession with The Hunger Games goes. I laughed it off, but they said something that was obviously going to bother me.

"I am so done with these types of movies."

Five years ago, things were a lot different in the world of YA movie adaptations. Harry Potter held the crown as the most iconic and beloved YA franchise, wrapping up an eight-film powerhouse that would leave an eternal legacy for its loyal fans. Twilight was still dragging out the insufferable vampire/werewolf/human love story as Bella and Edward (ugh) conceived their hybrid CGI baby. The Hunger Games was cruising into production with a promising cast and powerful, gruesome subject matter to live up to. These franchises made up a trinity of YA film sagas, lining the fandoms up at the movie theater to experience their favorite books brought to life.

Since then, quite a few things have changed. The trinity brought in a ton of money with each release, and Hollywood caught on pretty quickly that YA novels equal cash cows in the movie business. The story's already there, wrapped with a bow and a loyal following. All you need is a young, doe-eyed actress, a few brooding love interests, and a green screen. Today, it feels like a new YA film is coming out every other month. Some novels are thrown in to pre-production before the first book is even published. Trilogies, teenage warfare and futuristic settings are bombarding the new releases, and it can almost get hard to separate one from the other.

Now, you know I love YA, and you know I've been on board with a lot of these movies. Many of them have turned out really, really well. YA is what I read. It's what I write. The stories it tells are important, timely, and highly entertaining. The problems start to occur when these stories are transferred onto the screen in the wrong way.


Hollywood is tricky. It always has been. You have people who dedicate their time and effort into bringing the audience the movie they've longed for. It's a lot of pressure to present each scene to people who already have a clear picture of it in their heads. No matter how good or bad the film turns out to be, everyone is going to have their own feelings about it. Some people were enraged that Peeta didn't lose his leg in the first HG movie, while others thought is was a necessary omission. They can't please everyone, but they do their best.

On another side of filmmaking, you have the people whose main goal is that weekly box office. Say what you will about art or entertainment, but money is the ultimate name of the game. This can lead to all sorts of messes that can really ruin the YA movie experience. A perfect example of this would be the recent release of the adaptation of Lois Lowry's The Giver. Most everyone who's been through the education system in the last twenty years has probably read this book, and anyone who has knows that there is nothing typical about it. However, the movie we got in 2014 really seemed to alter whatever it could to make it fit what the producer's thought would rope us in. The main character, Jonas, is only twelve years old in the book. In the movie, he is sixteen, played by an actor in his twenties. This allowed for the writers to put much more emphasis on a romance. A YA movie has to have romance, right? They turned Meryl Streep's character into a cookie cutter 'big bad,' because we all love that President Snow. We want a tyrant, someone to hate. That's what they figured, so that's what we got. They tried to pander to the audience without honoring what made this book famous in the first place. The important themes and ideas got lost in a maze of Hollywood intervention. Needless to say, many people were disappointed.


Here's a question for you: What about The 5th Wave?
That book, written by Rick Yancey, was incredible. The writing displayed otherworldly talent and the characters were crafted beautifully. It was the kind of book that gave you chills and left you thinking about it long after the last page. This last January, the film adaptation hit theaters.
It bombed.
The critics were unimpressed and the viewers seemed just entirely uninterested. This book is on my top shelf, and I didn't even bother to get a ticket. I live for this kind of stuff, but there just wasn't anything drawing me in.  I don't even know if it was good or bad. I just know that no one really cared.
Why? Is it because we've all already given too much to the existing franchises? I mean, The Hunger Games had just wrapped up and The Maze Runner and Divergent had taken their spots as big deals in YA movies, so were we just burnt out? Was it because previous adaptations, such as The Giver, had diminished our faith in these types of movies? Maybe it just wasn't fun anymore. When The Hunger Games came out in 2012, it brought on a very special kind of excitement. Mall tours swept the country and the Mockingjay symbol became an icon. People filled the movie theater and then cried in the parking lot when it was over, completely committed to the developing franchise. Everyone knew about it, because there was nothing to really counter it at the time. Now, how do you even keep track? The 5th Wave, a haunting, powerful story about family, loss, and chaos, slipped through the cracks. It didn't even feel like anyone was fighting for it. Hollywood just kicked it out from their template and left us underwhelmed by the very idea of heading to the theater. It's kind of sad to think about other amazing novels that this has and will happen to.


Because that's the core issue here. These movies and the way they are made are draining the magic out of YA. They take it and turn it into a pandering display of what those people think we want. With a constant strain of YA films being produced, people are fed up with hearing about young heroines and revolutions. Ideas that are so empowering to readers are mocked by critics and looked down on by those who don't understand why these stories matter. Not that we should care what they think, but it's never enjoyable to see something that you love belittled because someone else slaps a negative label on it. They recognize Hollywood's formula and just assume that they're all the same, that if you've seen one YA film, you've seen them all. We know how far this is from the truth, but it has come to turn many people away. These days, you hear people lamenting about a new YA film more than people getting excited about it. It scares me, because that's so damaging and disheartening.

If only we could storm the gates of Hollywood with our Katniss braids and Dauntless hearts and demand better. Be true to the stories and let them live up to their full potential, right? We're not just targets for box office success, and we're not foolish because we believe in these young characters. We don't want to be pandered to and we want to get excited about YA movies again.

But Hollywood tends to have deaf ears when it comes to that kind of thing, so we just have to continue to cherish our books and hope for the best out of our movies. You never know when a game changer is going to come along.

There's nothing like a good Fall Out Boy concert to get the deep thoughts rolling. This past weekend, my best friend and I climbed up to the nosebleed section to witness the touring foursome belt out their iconic lyrics and set the stage ablaze with that electric feeling you get when music gets in your blood. It was everything concerts are supposed to be. Loud. Powerful. Unforgettable. We sang along to every word and danced like the flailing, adoring fangirls that we are.


However, we couldn't help but notice that we were often times alone in that enthusiasm. The people in front of and around us seemed glued to their seats, watching the concert through the screens on their phones instead of taking in the excitement around them. Now, I know that everyone enjoys things differently and I get that not all people need to head bang and scream lyrics in order to have a meaningful time. To each their own, right? And obviously you have to take pictures and some videos. We were in the same room as Patrick Stump, for crying out loud. I was having my own awesome time and that was all that mattered in the end. But still, phone screens illuminated the space around us, filled with people trying to capture the perfect image to share with the world. I will even admit that there was a constant urge to pull my own phone out and capture an Instagram opporunity or put together a killer Snapchat story. I wanted people to know how incredible this was. I wanted them to feel that feeling.

Okay, let me stop there. This isn't a lecture or rant about cell phone use. I'm not in any position for such a thing, as I'm on my phone pretty much all the time. The idea is redundant and I'm not trying to be Jennifer Lawrence at the Golden Globes. She can live in the now all she wants.

Anyway, this experience got me thinking a little differently about social media and what it all really means. I just recently joined Twitter and Instagram last summer, finally giving in to advice from fellow writers. They said it was important to build a platform that can help in the path to publishing and promotion. Sign me up. I had my reservations at first, but quickly became fascinated with the whole concept. There's something very unique about the validation you get on social media. On paper, a bunch of strangers liking your dog pictures and shaky concert videos doesn't sound all that special. However, I started to absolutely strive for just that. I was always seeking out a reason to post something new and worthy of attention, stopping to take a picture at every turn. I was hooked.

We all know the feeling. We all remember what it was like to look at people in their twenties and be in awe of the way they carried themselves. There was like this magical aura that surrounded them, and we wanted to know what it was like to be a part of that high life kingdom where anything was possible.



Adults.
What does that word even mean anymore?

Because here we are. We conquered the teenage years, threw on our big kid pants and legally bought our own cheap wine, but there was nothing magical about it. When the truth was finally revealed-that those fascinating twenty-somethings have absolutely no idea what they are doing-the whole thing just kind of fell flat. Where are our socks? Why won't the car start? What the hell is insurance? Yeah, we can buy and eat all the ice cream we want, but we really just end up feeling gross after the thirtieth spoonful.

Soon enough, growing up stops being exciting or mysterious or even somewhat intriguing. It becomes something that is actually completely terrifying. Don't get me wrong, it's not a bad thing. It's necessary and important, and can lead us to purpose and even happiness. However, there are too many things you start to notice, too many things that change all at once.

A brief history: I went to college right out of high school, as one does. I spent four semesters happily putting classes and responsibilities in the back seat as my friends and I cruised through weeks filled with reality TV marathons and drawing giant penises in the snow. We were kids. All we needed were passing grades and each other.


After that, I left and moved to a place where I knew no one. I lived in my own apartment for two years and went to a school with two buildings and four hundred students. I didn't make many friends, but I did what I went there to do. Even so, it didn't take too long for me to reroute again, and here I am. I live with my parents in the town that I grew up in and I go to the university down the road. It's the same type of school I went to three years ago with the same types of people, but I am so, so different than I was before. Life threw me back into this repetitive loop of classes and backpacks and homework while also pushing me towards this awkward adulthood that no one seems to understand. We talk about it in ways that let us laugh about it, but there's a certain turmoil there.



I've realized it more and more in the past couple weeks. I don't know how to grow up.

So there are the basics. You know how to change a tire. You make your own appointments. You own your own toaster. These little things on the adulthood checklist matter, because they signify transition, but they're not enough. I listen to the same music I did when I was fifteen and my walls are still lined with unframed movie posters. You could easily mistake my bedroom for that of a high school student. You could even assume such a thing just by looking at me. In fact, people often think I'm at least four years younger than I really am. It's hard to feel like an adult when you don't look the part.

But the thing is, if I changed everything-if I cleared off the walls and dressed differently and even revamped my iTunes- would it matter? If I still don't even know what it means to grow up, it makes no difference. I can own a hundred toasters and still be stuck in this odd limbo.



And yet, I look back to who I was when I was four years younger. Since my first time away from home, I've had four jobs, lived in three cities, dated two entirely different people, and changed career paths nearly eight times. That all has to count for something, right? I mean, I certainly learned a lot from those experiences. I met countless new people and handled a fair amount of disappointment. I adapted. I grew.

Is that the secret--that there is no secret? That there is no perfect moment in which everything falls into place and you suddenly become a proper model of logic and sense? Maybe the whole idea of being an adult is simply a myth, and you make your own way. You reach your own standard of growth at your own pace. The checklist will always be there, but there isn't really a rulebook for everything else. For me, it can sometimes feel like a void that I'm floating through a little too quickly or a little too slowly, and I don't know what's at the end of it. All I know is that there's something, and that everyone else is floating too. Very few of us float gracefully.


But it's not something that has to be morbid. Of course, we're going to overthink everything and second-guess ourselves pretty much all the time. That comes with the territory. They always like to say that it's the journey that matters the most, and I know there's a tremendous truth in that, cliché aside. I get frustrated going day by day at school and work, wondering if I'm doing enough to figure everything out and work towards a future that will mean something. I forget to give myself credit for the good things, for the times I take on fears and learn more about who I am. I don't know what it will all look like by the next stage of my life, whatever that may be, but there will be so much more to gain and discover. I'll probably always have wrinkled posters on my walls and that's not going to keep me out of the high life kingdom of adulthood. And if it does, I'll just make my own kingdom.