We are excited to bring you another fascinating article on writing, this time from author Shirley-Anne McMillan, who shares her thoughts on writing YA fiction and the importance of hope.
Contemporary YA fiction has a bit of a reputation, for better or worse, as a place where authors go to write about social issues which affect young people. I’d be lying if I said that I don’t sometimes think ‘I want to write a book about [insert social issue du jour]’ but it’s never the only thought I have when I’m thinking about fiction, and it’s rarely the first. Those thoughts are far more weird. I’ll give you an example. The very first thought I had when I started thinking of the book which became Grapefruit Moon was ‘What if there was a boy from Northern Ireland and he had, for some reason, to go and live in Granada in Spain for a time? And what if, while he was there, he went off exploring in one of those wee houses that are built into the caves in the side of the hills? And what if, when he was exploring, he ran into the ghost of Federico Garcia Lorca, the Spanish poet who was assassinated during the Spanish civil war? What if he kissed the ghost of Lorca? What if it changed his whole life?’
That scene, where the boy meets Lorca’s ghost in a cave in Granada, and they kiss, is not in the final version of Grapefruit Moon, but it stayed in for a long time. In the end it was clear that it didn’t fit with the rest of what the novel became, so I removed it, like the shin bone in the ‘vegetable’ soup that my mother used to make when we were kids. The ‘soup’ retains the flavour, but the story grew into something else as I learned about the characters and started asking them what their concerns were. And I think that’s where their ‘issues’ came in. My characters told me that they were worried about their exams, their futures, their friends. One of them told me she was freaking out because she was really good at ‘fitting in’ but she hated it, because she wanted to try being something else. One of them told me that he couldn’t pretend to be someone he wasn’t, and that he knew it was going to mess up his future. I introduced them to one another and after a while they got talking. It didn’t quite solve their problems but it did enable them to face them.
I won’t finish writing a YA story without a signpost, a window that’s open (even just a crack), a hand outstretched. Because, to me, hope is a live issue as well, for young people, but also for all of us…
These are difficult times for young people in Northern Ireland. We’ve had the pandemic and its physical and mental knock-on effects, and we have a massive crisis in mental health provision. Even before Covid things were bad. Now they’re worse. When you ask teenagers how they’re doing they often say they’re tired. They’re stressed about exams and school. Social media can sometimes increase anxiety but it’s also where they find solidarity and release. Despite all of this, they’re more articulate than I was when I was a teenager. They are more socially engaged, better able to demand their rights, more creative. I want to try to reflect all of this as a writer for young people. I want to be as real as possible, and that, I think, includes the far-reaching parameters of hope.
So, I can write about the things that young people talk about; sexual assault, death, anxiety, sexism, homophobia… and much has been said about where the limits of YA are when it comes to authors choosing ‘gritty’ subject matters… but I think, for me, a more interesting discussion is about where stories are pointing the reader after the book ends. I won’t finish writing a YA story without a signpost, a window that’s open (even just a crack), a hand outstretched. Because, to me, hope is a live issue as well, for young people, but also for all of us; things continue to change (and there is hope in this), those left behind after someone dies continue to live (is there hope here too, as well as the pain?), we feel alone but we are alone-together. Maybe this speaks more to my own needs than it does to my readers’ perceived needs, but I am limited by my own psychology in that way, and I don’t mind indulging myself to assume that we all need some reassurance.
So I work with my characters, letting them explore the areas of their own concern, their issues, messing things up and trying to make things right again, and what I learn as the author is to step back as much as possible while still being there if they reach out for help. But they help me too. They show me myself and my own limitations, my own true beliefs and feelings, and I think they offer me back some hope as well.
Shirley-Anne McMillan
Shirley-Anne McMillan is a writer from Northern Ireland. She has worked as a teacher, an Online Writer in Residence for the Irish Writers Centre, a youth worker with LGBTQ young people and a creative writing tutor. She lives in Co. Down with her family and in her free time she loves playing the guitar and knitting.
Stay tuned for a review of Grapefruit Moon in our autumn/winter issue, coming soon!
PaperBound Magazine is an online magazine for the young, and the young at heart. We are dedicated to showcasing authors and illustrators for children’s and young adult fiction and we strive to deliver inspiring content, uplifting stories, and top tips for young and aspiring writers yet to burst on to the literary scene.
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PaperBound Magazine is an online magazine for the young, and the young at heart. We are dedicated to showcasing authors and illustrators for children’s and young adult fiction and we strive to deliver inspiring content, uplifting stories, and top tips for young and aspiring writers yet to burst on to the literary scene.
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