Feb. 12th, 2019 09:04 pm
Musing on Writing - Ages
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beast_belowOver the last 5 or so years, I've become very interested in writing teenagers. Which, for me, is actually pretty weird.
I was the one who was always preferred to write characters that were functionally 15-20+ years older than myself. (I say "functionally" as it covers the nonhumans and immortals, basing it around their maturity and/or equivalent age rather than literal years.) But once I hit my mid-twenties, I may not have done a total 180, but a lot of my focus certainly did shift younger. And I've been thinking about it.
CW: chronic illness, mentions of child abuse, memory loss
Some of it is a sad disenfranchisement. I feel like I've done so little that it's hard to write older characters who have accomplished things and not just feel like a failure, not wonder why my own achievements are so paltry in comparison. Writing younger characters lets me focus on Potential. On a hopefulness for the future, rather than things already done.
Certainly there is a certain level of mourning youth lost. Not only in a general sense, but I very much got what people told me were "the best years of my life" stolen from me: I developed severe arthritis at 19. I spent my 20's in crippling pain, barely able to get dressed and completely unable to do all the things I had dreamed of doing. I had so many plans, so many things I had wanted to try or places I wanted to go... but instead, I spent much of my time incapacitated and fighting against a medical system that told me I was "too young" to be in so much pain.
The loss of my 20's was even more of a blow because... well, only after I was 22 was I free. I had finally escaped my abusive childhood home, and could finally be my own person and not live in terror of my mother's rage.
... but there's more to it than just that. As if that wasn't enough.
Over the last year, I've had to come to terms with the fact that... I'm missing so much of my memory.
I know certain facts. I can put together likely happenings, like going to school, taking classes, changes of the weather. But people, events, days, moments... so much of it is just... gone. Sure there are a handful of bright spots, clear moments or instants, but that's really it.
I've quietly had to come to terms with the fact that the abuse likely damaged my memory. (Would repressed be the right word? I don't know.) The more that I've realized how much I've lost... the more I've been interested in writing teenagers. High school AUs.
I already felt like my youth was taken from me. Even before the arthritis, my mother was a tyrant, and I was too busy surviving to even consider living. I missed out on so many experiences -- I know because I've mourned that a long time, and I remember the mantra more than the fact of it. But now, even what I did have... is gone.
It's like some part of me is desperate to cobble together the adolescence that was taken from me. To somehow piece together better might-have-beens, explore that burgeoning selfhood and freedom and identity and, yes, sexuality. To actually get to experience support for it all.
The "discourse" of "adults shouldn't be writing teens" really came at the worst time for me. Even though I never subscribed to it, seeing it thrown around still hurt. Still does hurt. It feels like strangers want to deprive me of my last chance of enjoying my youth, all for some ill-conceived Ideology.
(And I'm not even going to touch the "teen saved from abusive household through romance with older adult" fantasy, because hooboy, I'm pretty sure even just imaging that has put me on some Thought Crime watch list. Escapism is clearly Dangerous and Predatory.)
Just... I don't know. All of it has been hard to swallow.
I was the one who was always preferred to write characters that were functionally 15-20+ years older than myself. (I say "functionally" as it covers the nonhumans and immortals, basing it around their maturity and/or equivalent age rather than literal years.) But once I hit my mid-twenties, I may not have done a total 180, but a lot of my focus certainly did shift younger. And I've been thinking about it.
CW: chronic illness, mentions of child abuse, memory loss
Some of it is a sad disenfranchisement. I feel like I've done so little that it's hard to write older characters who have accomplished things and not just feel like a failure, not wonder why my own achievements are so paltry in comparison. Writing younger characters lets me focus on Potential. On a hopefulness for the future, rather than things already done.
Certainly there is a certain level of mourning youth lost. Not only in a general sense, but I very much got what people told me were "the best years of my life" stolen from me: I developed severe arthritis at 19. I spent my 20's in crippling pain, barely able to get dressed and completely unable to do all the things I had dreamed of doing. I had so many plans, so many things I had wanted to try or places I wanted to go... but instead, I spent much of my time incapacitated and fighting against a medical system that told me I was "too young" to be in so much pain.
The loss of my 20's was even more of a blow because... well, only after I was 22 was I free. I had finally escaped my abusive childhood home, and could finally be my own person and not live in terror of my mother's rage.
... but there's more to it than just that. As if that wasn't enough.
Over the last year, I've had to come to terms with the fact that... I'm missing so much of my memory.
I know certain facts. I can put together likely happenings, like going to school, taking classes, changes of the weather. But people, events, days, moments... so much of it is just... gone. Sure there are a handful of bright spots, clear moments or instants, but that's really it.
I've quietly had to come to terms with the fact that the abuse likely damaged my memory. (Would repressed be the right word? I don't know.) The more that I've realized how much I've lost... the more I've been interested in writing teenagers. High school AUs.
I already felt like my youth was taken from me. Even before the arthritis, my mother was a tyrant, and I was too busy surviving to even consider living. I missed out on so many experiences -- I know because I've mourned that a long time, and I remember the mantra more than the fact of it. But now, even what I did have... is gone.
It's like some part of me is desperate to cobble together the adolescence that was taken from me. To somehow piece together better might-have-beens, explore that burgeoning selfhood and freedom and identity and, yes, sexuality. To actually get to experience support for it all.
The "discourse" of "adults shouldn't be writing teens" really came at the worst time for me. Even though I never subscribed to it, seeing it thrown around still hurt. Still does hurt. It feels like strangers want to deprive me of my last chance of enjoying my youth, all for some ill-conceived Ideology.
(And I'm not even going to touch the "teen saved from abusive household through romance with older adult" fantasy, because hooboy, I'm pretty sure even just imaging that has put me on some Thought Crime watch list. Escapism is clearly Dangerous and Predatory.)
Just... I don't know. All of it has been hard to swallow.
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no subject
It's a bad discourse, and it's hurting a lot of teens too. I was developmentally ahead of myself in certain ways, and couldn't deal with people my own age from about age 14 onward. It hits me pretty hard to know that the ways I got through my adolescence and early adulthood - empowered and free from serious harm, no less, though I fought for every inch of it - are doors that are mostly barred to people going through it now.
The way teens are being policed against exploring their sexuality on the internet, the way there's a huge cult of 18-25s who refuse to even talk to younger people because they "don't want to be creepy", frightens me. Growing up as my neurotype was already pretty isolating in the late 90s/early 2000s, and now it's even worse.
On the bright side: are you familiar with the works of Diana Wynne Jones? I think you would like them. There are lots of empowering and nuanced representations of age-gap pairings, and knowing that a world in which adults don't write about being a child or teenager wouldn't have her works in it is as good of a refutation of that fucked-up worldview as anything in existence.
no subject
-- actually, it's sort of a full circle, really. I found your blog due to the whole Prokopetz Debacle, which was the first time I'd seen that discourse put so bluntly and harshly, and it really got to me. (I was actually one of the anons who wrote to you about just that, even.) But seeing you respond to it and handle it, and then finding other people doing the same, really helped. Honestly, I think that's a big reason why I'm able to put this all together now.
And yeah, I can't even begin to imagine what it's like for teens right now. The whole culture of it is just... really terrifying, in so many ways. It's hard for me to wade through, and I'm a Bona Fide Adult. I am truly worried about what kind of long-lasting fallout this may have, particularly for the queer community.
That said, I'm so grateful for the people who fight the good fight and talk about this -- point out the flaws in the logic, offer resources and perspectives, etc. I can at least say from personal experience that those messages are reaching people who need to hear them.
But! I've read Howl's Moving Castle, and didn't realize it was a series back then. I've always meant to get back to it. If you have any other specific recs, I'd love to hear! I'm trying to get back into actively reading again.
no subject
Fire and Hemlock was what got me started on my entire Tam Lin obsession, and is eternally one of my favorites. Among other things, it deals with a distinctly problematic age gap in a subtle and nuanced way. I have a tattoo based on the stone vases in the book, which is my only tattoo.
Deep Secret is one of my other favorite DWJ; there's an age gap ship there too, (though one that would have been uncontroversial until a few years ago); there's at least one remarkable whump feels moment that I forgot was there until my latest re-read. It also manages to capture the atmosphere of a science fiction convention better than anything else I've ever read. Dark things happen in the book - there's desperation and abuse and violence - but overall the story is joyful, so much, a comfort-and-pleasure read every time.
Hexwood is remarkable for how short it is - everything happens so much. I don't want to spoil it.
In any case, though, I feel like everything she's ever written is at the least good and many are downright amazing. She was the master of creating worlds that unfold seemingly effortlessly from mundane frontispieces into origami puzzle-box universes.
no subject