It can be tricky
to write romance for a teen audience. A writer must carefully balance her
characters’ relationships on the thin line that exists between too juvenile and
too mature. If the writing is done well,
readers should feel a hazy intensity when reading love scenes but obviously not
feel the need to go to confession or take a shower afterwards. Below is a piece about the all-consuming
fervor a teen experiences when bitten by the love bug for the first time.
First love comes into
view. You’re giddy, nervy, like there’s
a marshmallow in your mouth and there’s no way to swallow it. Your skin is on
fire, but you have goose bumps, not blisters. You want to stare straight into
his face, study the contour of his cheekbones, his chin, but your eyes dart
everywhere else. You flip your hair and sigh, trying desperately to act nonchalant
as he approaches.
The sweet subtle smell of
him, all cinnamon chewing gum and musk, floats into your senses, and you melt,
just a little. You beg your wobbly knees not to betray you and vow to stand
straight and still and sturdy.
The moment your eyes meet
his, time stops. White noise slips into all of the empty spaces between and
around the two of you, and your lips part just enough to quietly gasp. The
atmosphere is lit with an electrical charge that’s hissing and spitting off of
him and onto you, along a current that’s unmistakably alive. It juices and jolts
you in the thread of a moment before allowing you to breathe again.
And here you are, basking in
the warm glow of the aftershocks that buzz in the bottom of your belly like
happy bees. You swallow the bliss of that silent interlude, the one that spoke
volumes with no words at all. The moment has seared itself into the skin of
your memory, knowing it can never be outdone. You will never forget this.
Until he smiles.
At you.
And suddenly, you can’t even remember your
name.
Writing romance
for teens requires me to open up that memory vault where I store my most
cherished teenage memories of first love. Strangely enough, after all of these
years, those memories are still pretty vivid, probably because of the intensity
of emotion I felt during these moments. Most people can easily recall the
sweaty brow, the bundles of butterflies, the two word conversations that meant so much more than what was
actually said. As adults, we tend to
chuckle at the high drama of it all, but for the teens experiencing it, these
feelings are very real and super strong.
When writing a
love scene, I take a trip back through time, shed the years of trial and error,
disenchantment and practicality, and slip back into the penny loafers I was
wearing the year I first fell in “love.” Immersed in memories of angst on top
of pins and needles on top of breathlessness, my adult mind is both entertained
and intrigued by the sheer concentration of every feeling, the phenomenon of
emotions on steroids. I allow myself to
sink almost completely into the teenage drama queen I used to be, but make sure
to keep my head above water – just enough to be able to use my years of life
experience to send the right kind of message. After all, it’s a wonderful thing
to be able to summon the passion of that recklessly love struck creature I used
to be, while safely keeping the gifts of truth and wisdom in the back pocket of
my (still hip) Mom jeans.
I don’t know how
other writers of YA romance handle this, but I feel a responsibility to set
boundaries within my stories. I want to show examples of young men and women
with forceful feelings for each other, attractions and urges my readers
themselves are experiencing. Then, through the actions of my characters, I want
my readers to learn how to harness those feelings and make good decisions. I’m
not saying I’m going to hose down my lover boy with ice cold water and cover
every inch of my protagonist’s skin. Characters have to be authentic, and
sometimes steamy is authentic. Steamy doesn’t have to go over the line to be
good though, and if love scenes are written well, they can do more than simply
excite the reader. They can open up a conversation about limits and how abiding
within them can foster a love story that’s real enough to last and last.
The romance
between Callie Evans and Joshua Pride in Whisper,
book one of the Whisper series, is, in a word, magnetic. The intensity between
these two individuals practically pulses off the pages. In Wake, book two of the series, both jealousy and danger push Callie
and Joshua to an even deeper level of crazy love for each other and force them
to have a discussion about boundaries. Although Callie’s identity has morphed
to celestial proportions, her values remain those of a good Catholic girl with
a conservative upbringing. In short, Callie and Joshua are engaged in war
against both the Darks of Satan and their own hormones. It’s almost too much to
bear, but the fragile hope of what’s to come, along with the core truths that
have been laced into their consciences keep them tethered to the right track. Wobbly,
but tethered none the less.
What do you
think? What, if any, lines should not be crossed when writing books for teens?
