Teen Angst at it’s finest.

September 6, 2011 § Leave a comment

We hit the Borders final 10 day closing sale (our sixth trip in the 15 months we’ve been married; we’re addicted) and came away yet again with awesome loot since everything was 70-80% off.  I don’t know where we’re going to get our books once they’re finally closed.  I guess we’ll have to wait for B&N to go bankrupt.

While I was walking through all the picked over selections, I wandered through the Young Adult section–my guilty pleasure books.  And can I just say, I’m awfully tired of the way YAs are going right now.  Every book was entitled death this, blood that, and eternal somethings or others.  Even Hilary Duff is now involved in it.  I don’t think these authors get it.

People, just because Twilight blew up overnight doesn’t mean that you will too if you parody it.  Remember, it’s an ineptly written series, why would you want to be remembered for sub-par writing?

Where are the stream of consciousness?  Where are the Fast Times at Ridgemont High books?  Where is the forbidden young love?

There’s that quote I’m always reminded of, “Art imitates life,” and the discussion about whether it’s true or whether life imitates art.  And I can’t help but thinking about it as I troll through the YAs and see nothing but teens dressed in gothpunk or emogoth or indiepunk or whatever–you know, the combat boots, the baggie black pants with the chains hanging around the sides, three ear piercings in an ear because they want to defy society but momma won’t let them go to far, and that look on their face that says, “I am as cynical and as indifferent to the world as I can be at 14, even though just yesterday I bought a Lisa Frank notebook”–I see them and I think, now are they imitating these books?  Are they forming wiccan worship cults and drinking each other’s blood in hopes that they might turn into a vampire to be like Bella Swan because they’ve been reading the terrible turn of YA literature?  Or are the authors seeing the same thing I am and are deciding to just give up writing decent, memorable stuff and give the people what they want.

Either way, it’s disheartening.  I’m sure there’s a reason behind it, and I certainly hope that Stephenie Meyer is not to blame.  But I hope with my whole being that this too shall pass.

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