Writing Snippet | Work in Progress: Chapter 1

Hello! I wanted to share a bit of my writing on this blog to ~get myself out there~. As you might be able to tell, a bit of this was founded in my personal experience briefly after graduation - though it certainly takes on its own life very quickly! 

(Oh, and for writers out there who just graduated: Give it a second. You'll find a job. Promise.) 

Chapter 1 – The door my degree was supposed to open is locked.

“PREGNANT?”

“Right?” Tiffy flopped on my bed. “You need to redecorate.”

“I’m not going to be here that long,” I said, looking around at the posters my teenage-self had plastered on the wall. Bands and art shows and a few lingering Biebers that had made it through the many re-plasterings throughout the years. “I can’t believe that.”

Ashton Marks from high school was pregnant. The girl who had lectured us all about birth control at the ripe old age of 14-but-I’ll-be-15-in-three-weeks. She and her senior, football quarterback boyfriend had been talking about having sex after homecoming, and the jury was still out nine years later on whether that actually happened. “With whom?” I asked.

“Dunno,” Tiffy said, messing with the corner of one of my posters. It was ratted at the edges where the cat had chewed on it. “Think that guy who was on her Insta, like, a few months ago.”

“Mustache guy?” I asked.

“Ugh.” Tiffy was very opposed to facial hair of all kinds that exceeded the “stubble” variety. I pattered my soccer ball between my socked feet while Tiffy thrashed in response to the idea of kissing someone with a mustache. “Also, do you remember Jenny Harding?”

“Redhead Jenny?”

“Yup. Engaged.”

I groaned. Jenny Harding had been in the grade below us in high school.

“And my mom is, like, really close friends with her mom so I have to go to the wedding next summer.” Tiffy picked at a hangnail. “Bet I’ll still be single next summer.”

“At least you’ll be in L.A.,” I said. Tiffy was Talented with a capital T. T for Tiffy and T for Talented. It was only a matter of time until she left our hometown and only came back for Christmas sometimes. And I, the untalented friend of our duo, would still be here, decorating Christmas cookies and considering how it’d been so long since I’d seen her.

+++

My name is Darcy Langdon and I have applied to 37 jobs in the past month.

I have gotten nothing back.

              It’s kind of like if you were to put yourself on Tinder, Bumble, and Hinge, only to find that absolutely no one had matched with you. For a whole month. Unfortunately, my bio on dating apps – “Recent graduate who is looking for a job and a guy who likes dogs” – hasn’t exactly been raking in the men.

              I live with my parents now.

              So, my confidence is at an all-time high.

              “Darcy, do you wanna play X-box with me?” Jackson, my little brother, is panting at the frame of my door, a little off kilter. He slid on his socks to get to me.

              “I’m – uh – working,” I said, unsure if applying to jobs was considered actually working. I wasn’t getting paid, that was for sure. But applying felt like more work than an actual job would be.

              Jackson squinted at my laptop, which was opened to YouTube. I minimized my browser. Jackson was the “surprise, but not accident” that my parents had when I was in high school. The only thing stranger than bringing high school friends home to your house with all the braces-era memories plastered onto every inch of the house, is bringing your high school friends home and asking them to keep it down because there was an infant in the next room.

              Not that I didn’t love Jackson with my whole heart. In fact, that snotty little piece of my soul had moved from my door frame to climb into my lap. He tried to swivel my chair.

              “We can play soccer,” he said. He had understood that I played soccer in high school, though had never seen me in an actual game. I did teach him how to do a few nasty corner shots in his preschool days. He was going to grow up to be an athletic kid; he was already far too tall for comfort.

              I shifted beneath him and he put my headphones – which weren’t plugged in – onto his head, and he pretended to bop to a nonexistent beat.

              “I can kick with both feet so hard,” he said, still wriggling on my lap.

              “Is that so?” I asked.

              “Yeah!” Jackson tucked the headphones around his neck, a habit I think he picked up from me. “I’m amphibian.”

              I tried to swallow my laugh. “No, Jackson, you’re not.”

              Jackson glowered. “Yes, I am! I can write with both hands, too! You can’t do that! I’m amphibian!” He crossed his tater-tot arms across his chest.

              “No, Jackson,” I said again. “You’re not.”

              “I’m amphibian!” he yelled. “Mom!” He jumped off me, detangled himself from my headphones and ran out of my room. I breathed out through my nose. My mother told me not to antagonize Jackson. I was far too much older for that. But I couldn’t help it sometimes. I doodled a Jackson-ish looking frog on the notepad next to me and pressed my foot into Oscar, who had managed to stay asleep beneath my desk the whole time Jackson had been in the room.

              Oscar’s kitty-snores stopped, and he looked up at me, his eyes flat. He yawned. Which made me yawn. “Do you wanna watch cat videos with me?” I asked Oscar. He laid his head back down on his paws, eyes closed. “Worst co-worker ever,” I grumbled. I looked forlornly at the half-full coffee mug next to me that I could no longer drink from. My co-worker had taken a lick or two of it while I had my back turned, and I decided it wasn’t worth drinking after someone who ate food that constantly smelled of fish.

              I sighed and clicked back to one of the millions of job sites I had subscribed to after graduation. “Five years’ experience,” I mumbled, shifting through the qualifications for jobs considered entry-level. “Seven years’ experience,” I said. “Oscar, can you believe this?”

              Oscar mewed back. I clicked again.

              “Masters and ten years’ experience or equivalent?” I laughed and put my head in my hands. “Oscar, I’m going to work at Taco Bell for the rest of my life.” He stood and walked figure eights between my legs, as if he liked this idea. “Well, at least you’ll always have me if I can never move out.” I instinctively looked behind me, relieved to see the hallway was clear. It’s not that I didn’t live being home. I loved my parents and Jackson and Oscar. But there were certain… complications.

              Like your seven-year-old brother opening all your pads and tampons so he can cut up the colorful plastic for “confetti” for Oscar’s birthday. (We don’t know Oscar’s birthday. We just picked August third. Because we realized we didn’t know his birthday on August third after having Oscar for about three years.) Or your mother wanting to borrow “whatever that book was you read last week” – and not knowing how to tell her it’s essentially word porn.

              Or stepping on a freaking Lego. I thought I was done with that part of my life.

              Everyone congratulated me so heavily on graduating, but right now it doesn’t feel like something that deserves congratulations. All your friends moved away in the same week and now you’ve moved back in with your parents! Congratulations! Here’s a sweaty black robe and square hat that won’t stay on no matter how you position it!

              I didn’t even get my diploma at my graduation. They had to send it to us by mail. Part of me wants to ask my parents to frame it for Christmas.

              The other part of me hopes it never arrives because that would mean I’m officially done with school forever. And I loved school. I looked at the time and date on my computer. August 21. The day all my younger friends went back to class.

              I picked at my cold oatmeal and swiped through Tinder, and it felt more like playing a game than looking for a date. And I wanted to go on a date. Because people kept asking me if I was going on dates.

              Oh, Jackson has a girlfriend.

 

From Katniss to Kereseth: A Look at Strong Female Characters in YA Fiction

 Strong female characters in Young Adult fiction. Let’s talk about this.

I have been obsessed with Young Adult fiction for years now (there was a time in my life when I honestly couldn’t get through a conversation without bringing up The Hunger Games, Divergent, or a number of other books that had completely captured my mind). And I think that there is something very important happening right now in that genre: an open conversation about strong female characters and the definition of their strength. While strong female characters have been prominent in literature throughout history, as an avid reader, I feel that there has been a special sort of emphasis on analyzing them recently- and I mean this in the best way.

In the past several years, young adult readers have received several examples of not only brilliant female characters (cue Hermione Granger from Harry Potter and Annabeth Chase from Percy Jackson), but also physically strong characters that became household names (Katniss Everdeen (The Hunger Games), Clary Fray (The Mortal Instruments), and Tris Prior (Divergent), to name a few).

However, very recently I’ve seen a special emphasis in these characters that I haven’t seen before- an emphasis not only on characters that are strong and brave, but on why. What is it that makes these characters strong? How do they use their strength to find a powerful place in society?

And what is it about this strength that draws us in so much?

There are so many examples, but a few rise above the rest in my mind. Suzanne Collins’ character, Katniss Everdeen, breaks out of the common plotline of “character that suddenly gets thrown into a situation and has to become physically strong and gain confidence.” No. Katniss is already a confident, skilled hunter and provider at sixteen. And while her physical ability is her most visible strength, throughout the trilogy Katniss recognizes that there is a strength in softness and vulnerability, as it is this vulnerability that makes her a symbol in her society and a leader in the rebellion. While not outwardly spoken, she concludes that her emotions (and sharing them) can be just as powerful as her physical capabilities.  

Clary Fray from Cassandra Clare’s The Mortal Instruments understands that despite the physical strength she gains (as she is part of the “character that suddenly gets thrown into a situation” story, though Clare masterfully makes this plotline her own), her creativity is what makes her a better fighter than those around her, and is what gives her importance in the world of Shadowhunters.

Veronica Roth is one of the most prominent YA authors at the moment- and for good reason. Her characters are strong and vibrant and have a clear why behind their strength. In her debut novel, Divergent, Roth explored the character of Tris, an unassuming sixteen-year-old girl who moves from her home faction to Dauntless, a faction that places value on physical strength and bravery. Throughout the novel, however, as Tris does indeed become a strong fighter, Roth makes sure to emphasize that her strength is not only in her body but in her sense of self. Coming from Abnegation, a faction that places selflessness above all, Tris has a hard time letting go of her old ideals. So, she learns to connect her past and present lives. She begins to piece together a definition of bravery that isn’t very different from her definition of selflessness. She doesn’t find strength in risking her life for the sake of pride, and she learns that true strength lies in your willingness to put others above yourself. She finds her place in society (a theme that runs across most of YA fiction as it is a function of the genre) and realizes that it is a powerful place, as she is “Divergent,” which is considered extremely dangerous by some of the government’s most prominent members. However, as she develops in her sense of self, and recognizes her power beyond that of her physical strength, Tris realizes that her true place in society very well might be in a new type of society that she must fight to create- one that allows people to be more than just selfless or brave, but both.

Still, in all these characters the more obvious emphasis has remained on their physical strength. That is what drives the plot forward, and the source of their strength, their why, remains an underlying theme.

In her article, “Veronica Roth: Exploring the Traditional Woman’s Role in The Fates Divide,” Roth writes about how her next novel, The Fates Divide (the second book in her latest duology, Carve the Mark), has been a challenge to write: “I tend to write about a certain kind of girl: physically strong and capable, with all the subtlety of a battering ram,” and that she “wanted to try something different. I wanted to write about a different kind of girl.” And while Veronica Roth explores this different kind of girl, she still sticks to this vein of finding one’s strength, and focuses on how this strength is powerful in the society in which the character dwells.

Roth discusses her character Cisi Kereseth, a girl who cannot throw a punch or be outwardly open about her thoughts because of her supernatural power that makes her incapable of making others uncomfortable. Roth says that she believes this supernatural power mimics what women (both fictional and non-fictional) have felt as a very real pressure in their societies, and that Cisi, like women in the real world, has had to find her own way around this: “Cisi has to fight for what she wants in a different way: subtly, and with great care. When she thinks something is going unsaid, she asks questions to lead someone else into saying it. She lets people think the good ideas belong to them, content to stay in the background as long as she’s getting what she wants.” She toes the line of manipulation. She’s a behind-the-scenes fighter - a type of warrior we haven’t seen often in YA literature, but a type that I feel is on the rise. An important, relatable type (considering most of us don’t own battle gear).

I think it is ideas like this, the things that aren’t stated in sentences, but in subtext, that pulls in readers of all ages.

The strength of these characters lies in their ability to not only fight their way through wars but through their thoughts and emotions, finding where their strengths (and weaknesses) lie, and becoming a more conscientious person through this process.

They learn that they are a constant work in progress.

This theme that often rises within young adult literature, however, is not only for young adults. It’s no secret that Young Adult fiction is being read by an audience of all ages. That 13-18 age range means nothing because no matter the age of the reader, or the character, the lessons we learn alongside the characters are too relatable to ignore. They have flaws that we also see in ourselves. And just like the characters, we too are a work in progress at every stage of life.

Or maybe, I’ve also thought… maybe this “YA isn’t just for kids” isn’t a new trend at all. Maybe this is me getting older, looking for meaning in books where before I only looked for entertainment. The first time I read Divergent at fifteen, I surely wasn’t looking for the true meaning of bravery. It wasn’t until I re-read the story years later (for the fifth or sixth time, and when I was technically out of the “official YA age-range”) that one of the most memorable lines in the book: “A brave man acknowledges the strength of others,” truly came full circle for me. Throughout the story Tris battles with this thought and comes to understand that others’ strength does not inherently mean her weakness – a lesson that was always in the book, but one I didn’t pick up on until I was older.

Maybe that’s what makes these books timeless to me, and to so many other readers. We can read young adult literature when we are young enough to fall head-first into the story, and grapple with lessons along the way. We can read it when we are older and appreciate the lessons that take time and understanding to uncover.

And while I’m excited to see where these strong female characters go, and how the needs of the audience, genre, and world continue to shape how they’re written, I’m also comforted to know that these characters are always something to come back to, and that this genre is something that always has a lesson to offer, no matter my age.