Among my various exploits for The Nerd Daily, I have written about the question of how we can define Young Adult (YA). In short, I arrive at the conclusion that it’s both a genre and a readership in that it is both books written for a very specific demographic, but there are also consistencies across every single Young Adult book that mean they can be classified as a genre, too. My definition is by no means the end of the discussion, but it’s at the very least a starting point for me to feel comfortable stating that this categorical straddling of readership and genre makes Young Adult stories very dynamic and thus very special.
Given this adulation of a preamble, you probably aren’t going to be particularly surprised to hear that I’m passionate about reflection upon, reading, writing, and promoting YA. It was one of the reasons I put my hand up to be on the committee of LoveOzYA. What’s that, you ask? It’s an organisation that exists to promote YA titles written by Australian authors to Australian readers, born from a community movement in 2015. Many reading this may have seen LoveOzYA pop up as a hashtag across Twitter and Instagram. But the limitations of a 280 character tweet, or a heavily visual platform, means that the importance of YA, and Australian YA, is taken for granted rather than meaningfully unpacked. I’d like to do that now.
Let’s start broad: Why is YA important?
I put this question to the internet, and received a bevvy of responses. Among them are the following:
On Twitter, @cmauthor explained “YA actively encourages diversity…books featuring POC, LGBTQ+, disability rep, etc. These books allow teenagers to see themselves to see themselves in the stories, whereas…the ‘adult’ market [doesn’t have] as much of a push for non-white/disabled/non-cis characters.”
According to @itsmejayse on Instagram, “YA gives young people characters which they identify with.”
@erins.errands said “it’s usually the pioneer of new ways of thinking that later fall into fiction”, and later elaborated with, “YA authors will be more likely to talk about what it’s like growing up gay than adult fiction writers.”
Instagram user @autumnofpellinor said, “young people need to see themselves represented and to identify with stories,” and when asked for further comment said, “people write from their own perspective a lot of the time. Also teenagers are in a formative part of their life and seeing themselves represented allows them to be exposed to more stories and information.”
She asked me what I thought, and after considering everything that people had said, I replied, “given teenagers are often quite existential, trying to determine who they are and who they want to be, YA helps navigate the experience of creating an independent identity. Stories about people their own age (often in a variety of circumstances and with a variety of different backgrounds, identities, and characteristics) give rise to a variety of possibilities and considerations that help people make decisions about the person who they want to be as they become an adult.”
To further condense this, Young Adult is important because it – more so than many other genres for readers of a different age, especially adult readers – reflect a diversity of characters. But moreover, it’s because it has the capacity to play a pivotal role in assisting people make decisions about who they want to be. If you clicked on the link to my previous article (which, obviously you did), you’ll have read that one of the reasons I classified YA as a genre is because there is a thematic consistency across YA books about this exact issue – the question of identity and the formation thereof. A particular group of books that challenge and guide their readers to come to a sense of comfort with their decisions and who they are is an inherently powerful thing.
With this in mind, the next important question arises: Why is Australian YA particularly important?
Well, there’s obviously the importance of a local industry. But given the power of stories, there’s an added dimension of importance behind promoting and celebrating stories that are the product of a particular society, landscape, and culture. This comes most prominently in setting books in the physical environment of the country. Indeed, Australia’s landscape is quite unique. Max Barry’s 2013 sci-fi thriller Lexicon has its second and third act take place in Broken Hill, and the character of the landscape is etched into the story in a rather spectacular fashion. Without the backdrop of the setting, the story would take on an entirely different aspect.
Similarly, Lili Wilkinson’s After the Lights Go Out is set in a tiny country town in the Australian Outback, and has a direct influence on the nature and events of the story. Someone who hasn’t lived in Australia for a long time can’t understand how the harshness and remoteness of the Australian countryside has created a peculiar flavour within the Australian psyche, and cannot capture the heartbreaking beauty of the landscape with the intimacy that comes with it being tied up with identity. Nor can they capture the relationship between society and that very specific environment. Moreover, the history and fabric of Australia contains Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander societies – cultures and peoples with rich, distinct, and unique histories, world perspective, and stories. The narratives that these groups produce are singular, and very few international publishers are likely to find and publish these perspectives.
But moreover, stories are directly influenced by culture, and so the tone, concerns, even the use of language, that go into the telling of a story are a reflection of that culture. Jay Kristoff and Amie Kaufman’s Illuminae Files are set in an entirely different world to our own, yet there could be a strong argument made that the caustic aspects to the personalities of the various characters, and the gallows humour that seems to run through much of the storylines have a distinctly Australian element. It can be subtle at times, but it’s important. Our treasurer, Sarah, said quite beautifully, “you can’t get the tone of [Australia]…anywhere else, and creating a piece of art that comes from such a close part of your soul makes it all the more magical,” and I think she nails it.
Oz YA matters to me because:
Supporting local talent is everything to me. You can’t get the tone of Australian YA anywhere else, and creating a piece of art that comes from such a close part of your soul makes it all the more magical. #LoveOzYA— #LoveOzYA (@LoveOzYA) July 22, 2019
With this in mind, LoveOzYA exists because it recognises the special and unique aspects to YA literature, and YA literature that is produced by Australia and Australians. Given Australia is a relatively small market, it can be and has been easily dominated by popular works from international authors. But that maligns the very special, very distinct stories and voices that are created of our society. So we’re part of a movement to celebrate and promote the stories that our country produces. As our Chair, Kate Eltham, said in conversation: “Given the explosive growth of YA readership over the past two decades, it will be interesting to see if this literature remains for young people, even while it continues to be about them. LoveOzYA will continue working hard to foster teen readers at the same time we promote the breadth and diversity of Australian YA literature to fans everywhere.”
You can find out more about LoveOzYA at the LoveOzYA website, or at their Twitter and Instagram.
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