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| Teens from my childhood. |
There’s an obvious reason, of course. The book I’ve been writing for almost - checks notes - eighteen months, is about young people. It’s high school. It’s spin the bottle. It’s crushes. It makes sense that I’m trying to see things from a younger perspective. Perhaps it’s why I’m full of admiration for the young activists trying to stop new oil licenses. Or campaigners like Greta Thunburg, who've spent their teen years trying to make change. If I were a teenager today (and I'm mostly glad I'm not) I’d be desperate for someone to knock sense into the adults with power. I’d be frustrated with being expected to behave responsibly whilst having little autonomy of my own. I’d be hero-worshipping Lauren James, the 21 year-old striker who’s playing a blinder in Australia right now.
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| Teens from my teens. |
But hasn’t it always been like this? Maybe. Not sure. Perhaps every young generation plays out the same; it's just the surrounding context that changes. I had Thatcher, not Sunak. My teenage life was also thwarted by rules and expectations, just without the Internet. I hero worshipped popstars not sportswomen, but the feelings were the same. Perhaps this is what happens when you write Tween/YA fiction. You become far too reflective on aging and generation gaps. It's either that, or it’s the Dawson’s Creek binge I’m still doing. Hey ho. I'll stop overthinking and continue to be impressed by all the brilliant young people. As you were.
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| Thanks, David. |
The first scary bit is over. Another human has read Leeza McAuliffe 2 (working title). They’ve sat me down, looked me in the eye, and given me feedback. And Reader, I survived. Pheweeeee. You'll understand why I was scared. When I asked my friend’s 17-year-old daughter to give it a read and see what she thought, her mother warned me she’d be brutal. Happily, she was not. She was, however, constructive. I’ve now a deeper understanding of the words and phrases that were signalling this author’s middle-age as they came out in her tween protagonist’s diary. It also resulted in a lively discussion. What do today’s youths call kissing? When two horny people press their mouths together, I’d call it 'a snog'. Or when I was thirteen, it was ‘getting off with someone’. Neither of those phrases are acceptable in 2023. You live and learn.
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| Teens from my middle-age. |
I’m so happy. Not only am I loving the Women’s World Cup, and chilling out with a few episodes of Schitt’s Creek on the daily, but the new series of Heartstopper has dropped. Woohooo! Heartstopper is special. A sweet and joyous Netflix series about two high school boys falling in love. It’s positive, life-affirming, and shows teen relationships - so often depicted in popular culture as heteronormative - from another perspective. It was also a huge help for my own writing. I’d written draft one of Leeza McAuliffe 2 when I saw the first Heartstopper series. I’d been worrying how to get Leeza in Year Seven to think about her feelings for others, without seeming too sexy or explicit. I couldn’t work out how it would look. (A damning indictment on my own experiences!) But then Heartstopper came along. Charlie's in Year Ten and Nick's in Year Eleven. They hold hands. They kiss. They go on a day trip to the beach. It’s all so lovely. That series gave me the nudge I needed to lean into the innocence of high school in my own writing. Yay. Anyway, whilst all that’s true, I’m just chuffed the new series is here. Shush now while I binge.
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I did my favourite kind of entertaining on Friday. I opened some packets and I arranged them artfully. It’s both easy AND impressive. Pinterest will have all the ideas you need under 'platters' but if you need more inspo for your low-effort/ high-reward endeavours, check out the photo. My honest opinion is you only really need the cheese and crackers. Everything else is superfluous.
Out and About
I’ve not been anywhere exciting. Boooo! But the good news is, my standard weekly routine gets me all over the place. I’m typing this sentence in Costa on Thursday. I had brunch with my Wednesday mates on – yep, you’ve guessed it – Wednesday. I posted the infamous air up bottle at the post office on Friday, and I saw Barbie again on Monday. My week was happily sporadic, with work squeezed in between the gaps. Not the most thrilling social life, but certainly not boring. That’s a pretty decent deal, I reckon. I'd have been more than happy with that when I was an angsty teen.
Have a lovely week, folks.
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