Children’s Books for Adults
As I begin the
rabbit hole that is GoodReads (in attempts to better understand my audience and
my niche), I have to accept something that I’ve been struggling with even as a
13 year old girl; I want to write like a Disney movie.
Lilo and Stitch,
in particular. Treasure Planet. The Black Cauldron. Aladdin. I want to
write like in the same vein as Harry
Potter and Howl’s Moving Castle.
I want to write like anime like Inuyasha and
Yu Yu Hakusho.
Except that I want
to write in a style as it relates to me. An
adult. With life experiences. Bitterness. And a bit more bite.
I’ve been reading
quite a few young adult novels recently, trying to catch up on series I’ve
started years before and never quite got around to. I walked into a bookstore
the other day to check out what summaries were doing that worked (or didn’t)
for me, along with snapping photos of covers that caught my attention. I first
headed to the young adult section because one, that is my typical haunt despite
my not having spent a lot of time in a bookstore since 2012, and, two, it was
closer.
Afterwards, I went
to the adult fantasy and sci-fi section and immediately realized the vast
difference: adult books are ugly.
Fantasy novels tend
to have these literal, well-drawn covers of a not too eventful scene with
a not too eventful setting. A woman
rides a horse in the woods. A man rides a horse on the cliffs. Everyone stands
in an overly detailed ravine or castle with their sword drawn and glowing magic
ablaze. The colors weren’t as luring, the people weren’t as pretty, the
clothing was accurate, but with little appeal.
And the summaries
followed suit. In fact, the few times that I was interested in a book, I
realized that it was probably intended for younger audiences as well.
I mean, for one
thing “adult” often translates into “masculine” while “young adult” often
translates into “feminine.” What we would consider “real” sci-fi or fantasy
tends to be written with men in mind. I once exclaimed in a joking manner as a
friend told me a summary, “Is everyone a prostitute nowadays?” Many of the female
characters in the stories are mistreated
courtesans—A.I., badass, or whatever—but still whores. The way they depict sex
and women’s bodies tends to be completely perfunctory. Vulgar, lacking
sensuality, porn-like. Overall, I also think that men tend to prefer plot—political
implications—to character. While the great fantasy writers make characters
real, they often are flat and limited to a few core emotions. In Game of Thrones, everyone struggles with
power-hunger, fear, or lust, but you don’t see a wider variety of their personality.
They rarely joke, laugh, or love. It’s part of the point, and why people like
it, but I prefer some more humanity in my stories. Optimism and whimsy combined
with the severity of the situation.
I like high-highs
and low-lows, and that’s exactly what children’s books have going for them.
What I don’t like
about children’s books, especially young adult books, is the premises and
emotional arcs are pretty limited and cliché. A lot of people will tell you
“young adult” has to do with age of the characters, but I don’t consider that
true. Or it shouldn’t be. Sarah J. Maas’ Throne
of Glass was, in my opinion, greatly inhibited by the necessity that she
make her early 20s character in her teens just to meet the expectation of the
teen audience, but (at least from an adult’s perspective) her epicness made
less sense and kind of became a silly wish-fulfilment. It was harder to take it
more seriously.
And while as a
child I didn’t care too much about the age of the characters, as an adult, I
don’t enjoy reading about teenagers as much.
Also, I don’t want
to read about “high school adjacent” worlds anymore, such as in Divergent, Hunger Games, or The Mortal
Instruments. I liked school fine when I was there, but it is bleak and
disheartening, as well as restrictive, and reminds me of how relieved I am to
not be controlled by that. It doesn’t inspire me, however, or make me excited.
It just reminds me how small I, and thusly the characters, are in that sort of
environment.
As an adult, I’m
facing different issues now. That’s part of the difference between books
actually targeted for children though, rather than teens. Being a teenager is a
very specific experience and lifestyle, but the things that haunt you in
childhood carry on into adulthood. You can still feel like the odd one out like
Lilo, or desire adventure like Jim Hawkins. Innocent first sexual experiences
and the drama of a school system tend to lose their luster though.
Lastly, and I’ll
say this until I’m blue in the face, I do not want to have to be told to dumb
down my language or my intrigue for “stupid kids.” (A literal quote during one
writers group.) Not only do I not believe it’s necessary (Kids tend to be more
adaptable to unknown information than adults), but it’s simply not what I think
books should be like.
I’ve talked about
this in the past, but just recently I’ve come to terms with it. My Dying Breed manuscript, which is
currently being shopped to agents, falls in some sort of weird realm of either
adult or young adult, with common elements of the Y.A. genre, but some concepts
more appropriate for adults. I have two other completed manuscripts that I
think are squarely Y.A. and one in the making that I think is better suited for
adult.
I want all of my
books to be in the same section. I want them to be taken seriously so I don’t
feel pressure to conform to the expectations of “fluff.” I want to challenge my
readers, create something truly suspenseful, scary, whimsical, and beautiful
all at once. I want the drama and severity of the adult world with the
curiosity and wonder of childhood.
So as I really
question where the audience I’m going to market to, I’ve come to an obvious and
painful conclusion that you’ve heard me fighting time and time again. I will
target adults who want to read a meatier children’s book. That’s it.
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