or Why I Haven't Gotten Anything Done Since Christmas
We television lovers know the holiday season, despite its joys, can be a desolate time. After eating yourself into a coma at Thanksgiving, you plop on the couch and... gasp! Re-runs. You can no longer lose yourself in an addictive, magical world full of perfect-looking 20-year-olds pretending to be unsupervised 17-year-olds exchanging clever sexual innuendo with 30-year-olds pretending to be immortal 22-year-olds who drink scotch like alcoholic 40-year-olds.
In other words, Vampire Diaries went on Winter Break. (Until last night!)
My older sister came to the rescue this year when she told me she couldn't wait to catch up on Gossip Girl while she wrapped presents.
Really? Gossip Girl? Isn’t that about high school students who, ah, gossip a lot? Secretly I thought, “Okay, sis, you've passed the 4-0 mark and you're watching high school drama that doesn't even have vampires. That's just sad.” And then, equally secretly, I checked Netflix to see if they had it streaming.
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| "Mind-blowingly inappropriate" -
Parents Television Council. What more endorsement could I need? |
They did. They do. I watched the pilot while wrapping ten gazillion Legos. I'm hooked.
I'm not going to tell you how many episodes I've watched since Christmas. Fellow Proser MaryAnn is kindly waiting for me to send her the next batch of my behind-schedule novel for critque, and I will lose her respect forever if she finds out the actual numbers behind my procrastination.
So I'll just say this: After a non-stop writing focus through December, I took a break for Christmas and getting back in the swing of things feels like trying to hop on a moving zoo train filled with angry lions. So much easier to watch it ride off into the sunset without me while I sit on this comfy bench and fire up the Netflix.
Moreover, I really, really, need to see Nate and Serena get together. Or Nate and anyone. I don’t care. I’ll watch Nate kiss a tree. (I avoid reflection on what a creepy old lady this makes me by watching another episode.)
Still, as I sink into another 42 minutes of glammed-up teenagers non-chalantly ordering martinis at an exclusive Manhattan nightclub, the never-ending novel is in the back of my mind—specifically, a conversation I've had several times about my genre. It goes something like this:
Friend: What are you writing?
Me: Urban fantasy, I guess. Or maybe paranormal romance. I'm not sure where it fits yet. I don't know if it's quite a romance, but it's not quite gritty enough for UF. (Translation: My writing style just doesn't match up to the first-person, action-packed exploits of a bad-ass heroine with a tramp stamp.)
Friend: Why don't you write young adult?
Me: But I don't want to write teenagers.
Friend: Just make your characters 17 and then find a way to get school and parents out of the picture.
Me: That seems a little sneaky. Plus I want my characters to be able to get naked if and when I learn how to write a decent sex scene.
Friend: Forget that. Skip the sex and write YA. Your book sounds more YA. I like YA better than most adult books, anyway.
I write adults because I want my characters to be able to travel on a whim, buy and sell real estate, order liquor at a bar, have adulterous affairs, and pay their own bills.
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I've never had a martini. Sad.
Photo: Microsoft Office Images |
And there's the crux of why I can't turn my characters into teenagers. Teenagers are kids, and kids shouldn't be doing the things my characters do, let alone what TV teens do. I think that Gossip Girl, as fun as it is, isn't really about kids, and it shouldn't even be for kids. What happened to kids having a different set of behaviors, a different set of rules to live within? Where's the drama in being a teenager if you don't have a curfew?
Sometimes I wonder: Are we portraying teenagers as grownups because they relate to it, or because adults do? Is it that we "grown-ups" really aren't so different from our teenage selves, except that losing the holiday weight has gotten fifty times harder? I don't wanna grow up... except for the money, sex, and alcohol please. Those are pretty sweet. But I'll keep the youthful skin tone, thank you. Whose fantasy is this?
One of the themes that makes Gossip Girl great—that keeps it from being just parties and fashion and musical beds—is characters constantly making mistakes that force them to question who they are becoming. Are their friends just stops on the way to a greater, more important destination, or are they the connections that ground them? What is the difference between having a social network that can get you into any party and having a friend who will come over in the middle of the night? They question their values, they question the roles that other people play in their lives, they flirt with independence and push people away, and they do stupid, hurtful things and then try to make amends.
They attempt to reinvent themselves, only to be haunted by their own most deep-seated beliefs about who they are.
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| Chace Crawford. Sigh. Photograph by Christopher Peterson |
I was always more Jan Brady than Serena van der Woodsen, but adulthood happened: I’m married with two kids, plenty of bills, and a doctor who now answers my physical complaints with, "Well, you're getting to that age..." Yet no matter how much reality I throw at myself, I’ll always relate to that person who longs for adventure and excitement and fairy tales. I’ll never stop being someone who would trade my right arm to be five inches shorter, I may never stop getting zits at the worst times, and I will definitely never stop trying to blossom into a different flower, trying to shape who I am into who I want to be. It’s in my nature. Perpetual teenager.
So bring it on, Gossip Girl. I’m with you all the way. And if I had a daughter, I might even let her watch, too... When she was 30.
But for my own writing, I'll stick with characters following the rules I grew up with, which means if they want to take adult risks, they'd better be adults.
XOXO
~Sarah
