Tag Archives: Love

So Laura Has A Girlfriend

Ever since the idea for the novel I’m currently working on first sprung to mind, I’ve been doing a lot of reading. Not so much the YA books, though (which, let’s face it, I should probably get around to reading because I know very little about the other books in my genre), as it is the criticism of them. Knowing what my main problems with (what I’ve read from) the genre is, I thought it’d be interesting to see what others’ were. Not so much to tailor my novels around it as to, y’know, just satisfy my Inner Judgmental’s curiosity. (I.J. loves to hear people complain about stuff.)

For those of you who might not know, people’s problems with this genre are plentiful, and while some are downright silly, there’s a vast amount of them that aren’t, and they’re made even less so due to YA’s intended demographic (yes, there are older readers, but the target audience is adolescents and young adults (which, by the way, Wikipedia doesn’t see fit to think is the same, so neither will I. We all know Wikipedia is never wrong)). Considering how crucial a time those years are, I understand the concerns voiced by those who wish these novels had more diversity in them – racial and social alike. Knowing how much of an impact Harry Potter had on its generation (granted, not a YA book to begin with, but there’s no denying it went there eventually), and Twilight on the one that followed, I understand why some wish that there were other role models to find in those novels than the white, heterosexual ones we’re presented with.

I’ve got a document called Food For Thought in the folder reserved for things for my novel. In it I’ve collected a multitude of quotes I’ve stumbled upon since embarking on this YA novel of mine, and one of my absolute favourites is one by Amber Benson, who played Tara Maclay on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. For those of you who don’t know, she’s one half of a whole that was the first proper lesbian whole on US television (or so Wikipedia says, and we all know I love good, ol’ W). This is what it says –

‘I got letters from girls saying that I changed their lives and I met people who would cry about it, and that had such an impact on me. You don’t realise what an impact television has on people. But when you get letters from young girls saying, ‘I came out and I have a girlfriend now because of you’, it’s great.’

It’s a quote I’ve kept because I think it’s inspiring. It’s a quote I’ve kept because it’s a nice reminder of how something that to some people seems like a tiny thing – a girl liking a girl instead of a boy – can be a big thing for someone else. Being the straight girl that I am, I could never imagine the (potential) qualms of having to (and do shoot me if this is a horrible phrasing (mind you, I’m foreign and mean no harm)) come to terms with being in love with someone of the same sex in a society that generally thinks of girls as liking boys and boys as liking girls, but that doesn’t mean that they aren’t there, those people, with those worries, those fears, that confusion. When I read the above quote, what I see more than anything is a platform. One that, yes, on the bigger scale was important because Joss Whedon here treated a relationship between two women as equal to that of one between a woman and a man (though let’s be honest – it did take several seasons for them to be able to kiss on-screen and, I’m fairly certain, even longer than that for them to do something that even remotely resembled sex), but, more importantly, on a much smaller and more individual level handed every girl who needed someone to relate to, someone to take those first steps with, someone whom they could do that with, because not only did Joss Whedon have a relationship between two women on his show – he had one girl’s transition from ‘into guys’ to ‘into girls now (too?)’. A transition met, in turn, with both accolade and concern, as some believed that ‘Willow’s lack of panic or self-doubt when she realizes she is in love with Tara [made] her the best role model a teen could ask for’ whereas others felt that Willow not identifying herself as a lesbian (she tells Buffy that the Oz situation is complicated because of Tara, thus indicating that she has fallen in love with the latter) was a failure on her (or, maybe more correctly, the show’s) part.

Which kind of brings me to one my personal concerns: how to satisfy these critics?

First off, let me make one thing abundantly clear – I will not be tailoring my novel to suit anyone’s preferences apart from my own. I know what my story is, I know what I want to say with it, and I stick by that. Does this mean I won’t be doing my homework? No. Last night saw a lesbian character make her way into my novel. As a result, a character who was, until then, straight suddenly turned bi, and I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a bit intimidated by both their sexualities. Partly because, within the confines of the novel itself, the character who just turned bi is one of the major(er-ish) ones (meaning she is of great importance to my main character), but also because it’s one of those things where, if you do it, you want to do it properly. Especially when you’re straight.

It took me less than a day to do my first searches and read-throughs of what a bisexual thinks it means to be bisexual. Non-scary stuff thus far, and I admit that I feel very encouraged to go about it the way I initially intended to, which is the Joss Whedon way – treating it like any other relationship (only difference being that the B’s and L’s of this relationship will undoubtedly be addressed at some point). Because, surely, the love part is the same, no? I mean, love is love, after all.

Why then the mention of the critics? Undoubtedly because of the lack of LGBTQ characters in YA literature, which has left some LGBTQ writers asking where they are. As far as my novel goes, they’re (finally) there. Neither is a main character, mind you, which I know some of said writers have also complained about – them being degraded to secondary characters (those so-called sidekicks) – but in the interest of being honest, genuinely honest, and maybe casting some light on why we may not include them as much as they should be included (at least, this is the reason I know I have erred on the side of caution), it very much comes down to the importance of them, as contradictory as that may sound. Because, as mentioned earlier, if you do include them, you have to do it properly. Not just because there will be LGBTQs out there, reading it, critiquing it, but because, with a YA novel, odds are that your words may just fall into the hands of someone who needs them to be the right ones, real ones – their ones.

Which brings about what I suspect might be one of the issues: the worry. Because I do worry about whether or not I can provide that – their truth in lack of a less cheesy word. I worry about whether or not I can pull it off, because I’d want to be able to do that, and splendidly, too, I may add, if I finally went there (regardless of main character or side-kick status).

That said, I am curious as to which is worse: a YA novel void of LGBTQ characters, or one that has them, but less good ones (think: stereotypes)?


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Filed under Criticism, Sexuality, Writing, Young Adult

Cornershop Sessions #002: BOYS WHO LIKE GIRLS

(Think of it as Girls Who Like Boys Revisited.)

That aforementioned 4 AM Writing Sessions playlist? It’s got Ben Howard on it, Jack Wallen on it, Bear’s Den on it, and Dry the River. And that’s amongst others, and do you know what they have to say for themselves?

…..Still, there’s things I’d do, darling, I’d go blind for you.’
….. – Ben Howard.

…..And when I wake up you’re the first thing on my mind.’
….. – Jack Wallen.

…..My only sin is that I begin, yes, I begin and I end with you.’
….. – Jack Wallen.

…..I don’t want to know who I am without you.’
….. – Bear’s Den.

…..I named you like a prayer.’
….. – Dry the River.

The guys are following suit, ladies. It’s a Love Fest all around.

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Filed under Cornershop Sessions, Writing

Cornershop Sessions #001: GIRLS WHO LIKE BOYS

I’ve recently found that I do most of my writerly worrying on my way to and from the cornershop. It’s a semi-daily thing, that – going there. Especially these days, what with assessment deadlines falling left, right and centre, and nothing helps writing, I find, as much as a Cadbury bar and a mug of milk. The cornershop, as it just so happens, has both. (Milk and bars, that is. Mugs are my own, but enough about that.)

I cornershopped it tonight. Put my headphones on and pressed play on the 4 AM Writing Sessions playlist on my iPod (six hours early, yes, but yeah – whatever), which does nothing but inspire. Seriously, it’s amazing. Then I left my flat and as soon as that outer door closed shut behind me, my mind pretty much picked up where it left off last – with those girls who like boys.

First off, let’s face it. They’re a pretty common thing in YA literature. At least, to my limited knowledge, they are. L. J. Smith’s The Vampire Diaries has Elena, The Secret Circle has Cassie; Stephenie Meyer’s The Twilight Saga has Bella, and The Host has Melanie/Wanderer. Hell, had there been less Hunger Games for Katniss to worry about, let alone participate in, in Suzanne Collins’ series of the same name, odds are she would’ve probably spent more time in those woods with Gale, and something was bound to have come of that. I mean, come on. What he said (at about 1.46, but yeah – the rest of it’s pretty true, too). And as for Hermione Granger? Well, she might have started out as a kid, but by the time the coolest girl in the whole wide world (song starts at around 4.00) became a young adult, even she eventually fell for one Ronald Weasley. Of course, they didn’t all fall in the same way, and that is undoubtedly what makes the difference.

Stephen King once said that ‘Harry Potter is about confronting fears, finding inner strength and doing what is right in the face of adversity’ whereas ‘Twilight is about how important it is to have a boyfriend,’ and that’s stuck with me for some time now. Mostly because my former main character would undoubtedly fall closer to the Twilight end of that spectrum than she ever would the Harry Potter one, and I could tell from that quote, from the way the disdain kind of just reeks out of it, that that was not something you would or should want if you wanted your book to be at least somewhat good. But I wonder, now, if that is a fair point to make? Because, let’s face it, apart from both works being written works, they have nothing in common and I don’t think they ever intended to.

Harry Potter is, as King says, about confronting fears. It’s about the return of what is supposed to be the greatest evil and about how everyone must, at some point down the line, take a stand, for or against. Yes, there is love in it and love is a huge part of it, but it’s not a love story. Sure, some fangirls around the world squealed like fangirls do when Ron and Hermione finally kissed, when Harry and Ginny finally kissed, because they’d been rooting for that for years by then, but it wasn’t the biggest thing in the novel, it never would be. Harry beating Voldemort was. Harry sacrificing himself for those he loved was. Harry doing the right thing was.

Which, to be honest, is quite close to what Bella Swan spends most of Twilight doing, too. I mean, doing the right thing? Kind of check, what with the self-sacrifice to save her mum. Self-sacrifice? See aforementioned check. Beating the evil? She didn’t, really, and wasn’t intending to, but was Harry? I can’t remember, but as far as I recall, he was pretty sure he was going to die until he did, but didn’t, and then Dumbledore dropped by and said hi, because that’s what happens when you’re in Limbo? Is it me or did Harry Potter just totally jump into that death, head first?

If one were to compare, I think, in my books, Twilight’s saving grace is the fact that Bella Swan does what she does at the end to save her mother, not her lover. I always forget that when I do that annual Twilight watching, and every time it annoys me, greatly, until the end comes around and I remember she goes to that ballet studio to save Renée, and I’m all cool with it again. However. That is if one were to compare, which, as I mentioned somewhere above, I don’t necessarily think one should. Why? It’s quite simple. Twilight’s a romance novel. It’s about the love story. Harry Potter? Not sure what exactly I’d pigeonhole that as, but romance sure as hell wouldn’t be it. You can compare the writing (which is why I’m fine with King also stating that, ‘Jo Rowling is a terrific writer and Stephenie Meyer can’t write worth a darn. She’s not very good’), but you can’t compare books that fall into different genres, you just can’t. Twilight may be unideal in more than one way, but it does what it’s supposed to – it gives us Girl Meets Boy, They (Eventually) Live Happily Ever After.

Which brings us back to the cornershop worrying because my main character isn’t on a mission to save her mum (though, I admit, I have thought about this). She is (as of a week ago when my novel had a sudden change of main character) on a mission to save her late ex-boyfriend (as opposed to my last main character, who was on a mission to save her late husband). Yes – she goes through all of her troubles for a guy. Did she give up her life for said Guy? No. I wouldn’t say so, but there is no denying that he had an impact on it, and a big one at that. Does she give up her friends for said Guy? No. They were there before he entered her life, and they are there after. Were there when he was there, too, so they noticed said impact, which might just be why they all decide to do theirs to help her out come Ex-Boyfriend’s death, and her suicide mission to bring him back.

Why, then, do I worry? Because the world makes me feel like I should: it’s King with his quote; it’s the Girl Cares About Guy, which, for reasons (almost) unknown, feels like such a no-no route to go down (though, I admit, that may just be me over-thinking it); and it’s the (fanatical ones among the) feminists with their anti-Guy attitudes – more than anything, it’s them. Because God forbid a girl actually liked a guy that much.

Do I think the Twilight love story is ideal? No. Probably not. Do I get where it’s coming from? Yes. Probably not to a Bella-extent, but yes. My mother and grandmother aside (the latter of whom outrode me on bikes well into her seventies), the people who have shaped me have undoubtedly been male. From my father leaving my mum when I was 10, to the first guy who found my ridiculously insecure 17-year-old self kiss-worthy, to that first boyfriend that I hurt, to that guy who told me he wasn’t good enough for me (and, what’s more, meant it), the moments that truly define me have been male-induced – from the lowest lows to the highest highs, I am who I am because of the men in my life. And I say that as someone who quite cherishes her female friends.

Which is why, quite frankly, I don’t get what the big fuss is about because, surely, I can’t be the only one – I can’t be the only product of the males in my life, can’t be the only girl who’s liked a boy too much, the only girl who remembers how willing, at one point or other (though, I suspect, usually in those teen years because weren’t they just a downright pain sometimes? I know some of mine were), she was to sacrifice just about anything for that one love because the thought of living without it was just unbearable (seriously? Do you remember those years? No wonder Bella Swan’s all f*cked up). I know I do – remember them – and I remember the Edward Cullen of that time. I remember two full years of unrequited, of just feeling hollowed out, of painfully despairing misery, of unsteady breaths, of repeated blows to my stomach. Non-literal ones, those last ones, but still – they sucked. And do you know what my only thought here is? At least Bella Swan suffered through all of that for a guy who had the decency to suffer through all of it with her. She may have been willing to give up her life for him, but he sure as hell was willing to give up his for her in return, and that’s something. Something they often fail to mention.

Do I think Twilight is the golden standard? No. By no means, no. Do I think people should stop complaining about girls who like boys? Yes. Absolutely. Because we do and we did (those of us who, y’know, like boys, anyway), and you know what? Sometimes they deserve to be liked – they really do.

Even the ones who don’t think they’re good enough for us.

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Filed under Cornershop Sessions, Criticism, Stephenie Meyer, The Twilight Saga, Writing, Young Adult