WARNING: Anger Below (Plus Giveaway reminder)

For the past few weeks, there has been a topic I’ve wanted to address. I’ve refrained until now- frankly because simply thinking about it made me too furious to speak. It still upsets me, but I’ve reached the stage where I need to get it out before it turns foul. Bear with me, readers: this is going to be a long one.

On Wednesday June 4^th, I went to the local cinema. Surrounded by strangers, I sat down and watched The Fault in Our Stars (TFiOS): the movie based on the book of the same title by one John Green. (No I did not get the date wrong: new movies are released on Wednesdays in Trinidad, not Fridays.) I’ve mentioned the book and movie before on this blog, and enough times on my twitter accounts, facebook, tumblr and face to face that most know that I am a huge fan of Green’s books and his work on YouTube with his brother, Hank, as the Vlogbrothers.

But let’s go back to me in that theater, sobbing and laughing and whispering lines along with the characters and reveling in this gem of a tale. I was, by deliberate choice, alone. I wanted my first TFiOS experience to be untainted by others’ whispered opinions and post-movie commentary. I got what I wanted: total immersion. And I adored it.

That Friday, I went to see it again in a group that included a friend to whom I had loaned TFiOS some time before (read: over a year) and who still had not finished it. He refused to talk about it, and in my naiveté, I thought that he was simply waiting to finish before sharing his thoughts. I didn’t understand what was taking him so long though, but boy did I understand when we came out of that theatre. Eyes slightly pink, sniffling with my friends, I asked him his thoughts on the movie.

What followed was an hour-long diatribe on the following topics:

•           The lack of skill of young adult authors in general and John Green as an author in particular,
•           His lack of patience with authors who write into a “void”- with no cultural or social references to frame and enrich the work,
•           His disgust at the author for resorting to “tugging on the heartstrings”. However, he was kind enough to be slightly more forgiving of us as, being female, we would be more likely to fall for that gambit.

Readers, I have not spoken to him much since that night. Forgive me, since I plan on sending this to you once it’s posted: I know I told you that I wouldn’t get upset at your opinion. It’s yours to have and you’re free to have it. But I’m also free to be hurt. Angry. And just a bit disappointed. Because even as you insulted a book I love, an author I respect and a genre that I read voraciously, you insulted me.

To those who may be new to this blog, I have been a Library Assistant at secondary schools in my country for the past eight years. Currently, due to staff shortages, I run the school library I’ve been assigned to. We cater to kids from age 12 to 18, as well as their teachers and the school’s office and support staff. So while we do have a small collection of what is commonly termed adult literature, most of what I have been dealing with day in and day out for more than seven years has been Young Adult (YA) literature. Remember: YA is NOT a genre. It’s a target age designation. So when I say that I deal with and voraciously read YA, it means that I still read adventure, comedy, romance, science fiction, mystery. (Not horror never horror please keep horror far away from my eyes). It’s simply that I read about teens because there are great authors writing great books about teens. They write about the students I deal with for eight hours every workday, and they help me keep the reality of them in mind: that they think differently. That they haven’t had as much life experience. That they don’t want to seem inexperienced and insecure, but they are. And as a bonus: most YA writers keep the things I dislike (foul language, violence, gore) to a minimum, if it’s there at all.

I NEED to add this sign to my Library. 

I LIKE reading about my girls. I like reading what some call “their” books. There’s a raw honesty in the battles these characters fight; a comfort in the reminders that even I was once this confused and determined not to show it. I like reading about the adults that surround them, in seeing myself in their parents, their teachers, their coaches: determined to help, but sometimes clueless about how to do so.

You know, this post was going to be me defending the reasons why I read YA. But while I did list some factors, I’m not going to continue. I’m too upset at the fact that this is even an issue. Let me put it as simply as I can: I do not have to defend the reasons why I love something. I do not owe it to the universe to defend my choice of reading material from the derision that has sprung up in the wake of every popular Young Adult book or movie. The books I have read in this demographic have helped me do exactly what a good book is supposed to do: it has helped me live a different life for a few hours, so that when I turn the final page and come back to my own, I can better face the challenges I find there.

I do not care that the lessons I learn and the experiences I’ve had come from the tale of a nineteen, sixteen or even twelve year old’s life.

I do not care that so many consider these books immature, unworthy of my time, or undeserving of theirs.

I refuse to be ashamed of the books I choose to read. They tell a story that someone wanted to have told. And once it’s written well and relatable in some factor- and sometimes even if it’s not- I refuse to look down on it because it’s about a child.

I respect the youths around me too much to look down on the stories, challenges, and fears of their lives.

(Which may be why I'm having this giveaway.)

More YA-reading adults are below:
Why Adults Read YA Literature
In Defense of Teens by Heather Booth