The Problematic YA Fiction Relationship

Ahh, young love. The only thing better is fictional young love. I still remember reading about strapping young men with square jaws, mysterious dark sides, and the ability to say just the right thing.

Chances are, if you were an avid reader growing up, you also fantasized multiple times about fictional hotties. And I held those literary loves very close to my heart until very recently when I started to reread some books I used to love.

Instead of falling in love with my past book boyfriends all over again, I discovered 5 types of crappy relationships that we are normalizing in YA lit.

The I-Don't-Deserve-You Relationship
You're just too good for me; I am but a lowly peasant in comparison to your brilliance... Blah blahblah blahblah. Having been a teenager who believed that I was never good enough for the people I was interested in, this absolutely infuriates me.
Why do we glamorize self-doubt? When it is already so hard to love yourself, why do we make it seem attractive to believe yourself inferior?
Exhibit A: Twilight. Bella and Edward's entire relationship was continually in distress because each party truly believed that each didn't deserve the other. This is not love, people. This is infatuation paired with possible mental illness.

The He-Just-Gets-Mad-Sometimes Relationship
I could rant about 50 Shades of Grey here, but nobody wants to see me get that heated so I'll leave it at this: red flags that in real life would hint at a potential abusive relationship are not sexy. It is not attractive to watch your partner lose control of their temper on a regular basis. In reality, it's fear-inducing, not exhilarating. Passion is sexy. Even anger can be an intriguing character trait. Unbridled violence is not.

The Love Triangle.
FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS LITERARY, PLEASE STOP.
I get it: people love watching the brave couple navigate the challenges of love. And the forbidden is just that much more thrilling. I love drama in books! But this trope is worn out. Please, please, stop, authors. Challenge your characters. Put them through hell. Make them appreciate their partner. But maybe do it in a different way for once?

The I-Will-Die-Without-You Relationship.
So, yes, we've all been there. There's that one person who took over your world, who - with one look - could knock the breath out of you. Maybe you're still with them. Maybe you're not. That power in a relationship is absolutely intoxicating, and that's the kind of love I want to read about.
But.
When the protagonist suddenly becomes a parasite who is completely dependent on their lover, I lose interest.
NEWSFLASH: YOU ARE A WHOLE PERSON.
Even without the person you love most in the big, wide world, you are still a whole person. You are enough on your own.
Self love is sexier than any obsessive relationship I've ever read. And that's what I want to get from books. Do I enjoy watching characters fall in love? Absolutely. But I want them fall in love with themselves, first and foremost.

 The She's-Just-Complicated Relationship.
I'm looking at you, John Green.
Let's be clear: I love reading characters who make me angry, characters who are an absolute train-wreck. But I don't love when characters fall in love with other characters simply because they are "complicated" and they waste time and effort trying to "fix" or change them.
It's even worse when it actually works and every problematic behavior magically disappears from the power of LOVE.
I have never once seen this actually work on a real relationship.



Long story short... I'm not looking to read picture-perfect relationships in YA lit. That would be mind-numbingly boring. But when I do read problematic relationships, it would be nice if they were portrayed as unhealthy instead of being normalized.
I'm no expert, but I certainly know what I don't want to be in any of the relationships above.

So here's where you come in. What did I miss? Comment any problematic relationships that you've noticed reading!

Until next time...

Joey Young, Teenage Zombie Hunter

Hi all.

In honor of  The Walking Dead having had its mid-season finale, I decided to give you a look at something I wrote a while back. My students asked me what I thought would happen if a teenage boy was the only one left in a zombie apocalypse.

This is what I came up with:


Brushing your teeth just doesn't feel as satisfying when a horde of hungry, flesh-eating monsters is trying to break down your door.

The news this morning called it a virus, careful to avoid words like cannibal, zombie, or brain-slurping demon. But I've played enough video games to know what's really going on here.

I, Joey Young, have been training my whole life for this.

When I walk into the kitchen with my backpack, it's empty. My parents never came home from work last night, so I celebrated by eating a family-sized bag of Pizza Rolls, raw, then throwing up on our dog Reginald. The poor idiot is blind, so he didn't see it coming.

I never really considered the fact that my parents wouldn't be back by this morning, and so now it's weird that the words "my parents are gonna kill me" might actually come true.

In the first kitchen drawer, there is a switchblade knife that my dad bought during his midlife crisis. He thinks no one knows about it. I throw it in my bag, not because I think I'll be able to kill any zombies with it, but because I know for a fact I will look like a badass slinging this thing around. This is important because I'm banking on the fact that girls during the end of the world will be less picky. This knife is chick catching material, just saying.

After I slice my pinky open, though, I decide to maybe give it a rest. I shove in a bunch of kitchen knives wrapped in paper towels next, and - as an afterthought - a potato masher.

Next item on the agenda? Mom's taser.

My parents are - were? - sadly anti-gun. Because of this, my mother insisted on a "more humane? weapon in the house. I totally disagree. A taser will make you crap yourself, and I'm sorry, there is nothing humane about a grown man going code brown against his will. I would rather be shot dead.

But where does she keep it? The Almighty Purse maybe... a gigantic fake Michael Kors that no one even pretends to find attractive. The only reason I know what it's called is because she practically introduces it before herself.

Hi, this is my Michael Korsssssssss, and I'm Judy.

Ugh.

Sadly, chances are my mother the zombie is carrying the Almighty Purse with her, introducing it to all her new undead pals.

So, armed with a potato masher in one hand and Dad's illegal knife in the other, I decide to take on the horde.

...Tomorrow.

Yes, tomorrow will be fine. But for right now, there is another bag of Tostitos in the freezer and Mountain Dew in the garage.

Winner of Free Write Friday #2

   So after a week of open submissions and lots of tough deliberating, a winner for #FreeWriteFriday #2 has been reached! 

Congratulations to Adrian Bojan, of Berks County, for his untitled story below. Give it a read. It definitely touched my heart, and anyone who has a pet that is part of the fmaily will surely agree. 

Here it is:

There was once a girl named Alyssa who lived in Oley, Pennsylvania. She owned a light brown Labrador Retriever, whose name was Rusty. Alyssa absolutely loved Rusty, and she would beg her parents to bring the Retriever wherever they went. Whenever Alyssa would go to school, Rusty would follow her to the front door and wait there for her until she came back. Everytime Alyssa got home from school, she would get jumped on by Rusty. They were best friends, until one tragic day. On the last day of school when Alyssa got home, Rusty wasn’t there to jump in her and lick her face.

She called, “Rusty? Where are you Rusty?”

Rusty was nowhere to be found. Alyssa ran outside panicking, looking everywhere for her beloved dog. She then felt her phone vibrating in her back pocket. It was her mom. As she answered the phone, her mom told her calmly,“Come to the Veterinarian, it’s an emergency”.

Alyssa ran to the Veterinarian as quick as she could. When she walked in, she saw her parents sitting in the back of the room, with tears in their eyes. Alyssa walked to them and asked,

“What’s wrong? Where’s Rusty?”

Her father looked at her and told her,“Go through those doors”.

Not knowing what was about to happen, Alyssa slowly walked through the double doors. She was greeted by a tall, slender women with blue eyes.

“Alyssa,” she began. “Rusty is diagnosed with cancer, I’m afraid he doesn’t have much time. I would say your goodbyes now,” she concluded, leaving Alyssa alone in the room.

Her eyes full of tears, she approached the body of her best friend.

“Rusty no! This can’t be happening! I’m dreaming, someone wake me up please!” Alyssa cried.

She buried her head into Rusty’s body, her tears soaking his fur.

As Rusty’s eyes began to close for the last time, he looked at Alyssa in the eyes, waving his tail and barked one. Rusty’s eyes began to close. Rusty was dead. Alyssa’s eyes burned with loss and grief. She picked up Rusty in her arms and walked out of the room. She walked past her parents, still with tears in her eyes, and walked out the front door. Once she was home, she grabbed a shovel and started to dig a hole in her backyard. After she was done, she carefully laid Rusty in the hole. Before she buried him, she put his favorite chew toy and bone on top of him and started to cover his lifeless body. Alyssa would never be the same again.

It’s been 3 years after Rusty’s death, and Alyssa is still struck with loss and grief. Everyday she goes outside and visits Rusty’s grave. Sometimes she swears she can hear him barking and walking up the stairs, but she knows he’s gone. Even though Rusty is gone, Alyssa still has dreams of her and Rusty doing everything they used to do. 

Free Write Friday Winner "In Memory Of"

Here she is! The ever talented Amelia from PA is in 8th grade (technically 9th, now, I suppose), and she wrote this poem in response to the prompt "in memory of." Enjoy her work, and feel free to leave comments! She is now the proud owner of The Separation in addition to getting her work published here.

In memory of the best friends,

Who found themselves at your side and decided to stay a while

Who treated you like royalty and made you feel extraordinary

Who held your hand when you got too scared

Who smiled at you while the rest of the world glared

Who came along with you to places you wanted to go

Who taught you about the strange things you didn’t even know

Who waited on you while the others went ahead

Who made you feel alive when you started feeling dead

In memory of the people who lost that kind of best friend,

Who lost that special person they held in their heart

Was it a fight or was it just time that tore you apart?

Who’s tired and lonely without them by your side

Who wonders each night if they can even survive

Who hates to know that special person is out of their life

Who’s mind is constantly filled with horrible strife

Who has a hole in their chest where that person should be

Who’s crying so much they can hardly breathe

Who’s got sadness, worry, memories and pain

All at the same time, rushing through their brain.

Who knows it will never ever be the same

Because when your best friend becomes a stranger it can drive you insane

Nice job, Amelia! To the rest of you: keep submitting! My judges and I loved reading your work last time. Maybe, just maybe, the next winner will be you.