Though I’m a back-to-school supplies enthusiast, that’s pretty much the extent of my excitement to jump back into projects and homework. As you know me, I figured I would channel my negative energy into two of my favorite pastimes: reading and complaining.
Some people prefer to dive into new books blind, with no prior knowledge about the plot, and if that is your speed, you do you. Personally, I like having insider knowledge before dedicating my time to a novel — by that, I only mean the provided blurb on the back cover. When I am browsing, reading summaries to narrow down my extensive to-read list can certainly send the book right back to its shelf if I encounter a “book turn-off,” if you will. I could (and probably will) write an entirely separate column on my pickiness with covers, because yes, I do judge books by their covers, and yes, I’m always right about it. But for now, here are all of my young adult book turn-offs that immediately distinguish a book from “want to read” to “immediately no.”
I’ll accept this trope if it’s done right, but it very rarely is: everything wedding-related. I’m tired of the maid of honor drama narrative and best man cheating scandal; blah blah blah. Most of all, though, I forbid elopement. This overdone trope is extra and unrealistic, especially to young love-seeking readers in the real world. You expect me to believe that the emotionally dependent, still-in-college, first love marriages are going to last? Hard pass.
In a pickier manner, I never understand why authors feel the need to make up strange names for their characters. I don’t mean Phillip or Bartholomew, though those would also be a no, but when the characters’ names are Belly or Wyn, it removes the relatability of the novel because their attempt to be unique feels so fake.
Generally, YA novels is they are fairly cliché-central, which, if done in moderation, isn’t always terrible — clichés are popular for a reason. It is, though, when the book is stuffed to the brim with unnecessary clichés. I’m thinking of “first love during a European summer” mixed with “she has never been treated right and he is a reformed player,” notably present in the novels of Elle Kennedy, Lynn Painter and Jessa Hastings, to name a few. Don’t get me wrong, I actually enjoy a lot of their works, as they are all talented writers. But wouldn’t the book be much less convoluted if they picked a trope and stuck to it? Overdoing it with the clichés simply makes my head hurt, polluting the stories’ otherwise well-done plotlines.
Speaking of clichés, the absolute worst is when books quote other works. If a novel is about a troubled group of kids away from home finding a family within one another… why in the world is there a ‘Star Wars‘ quote in those pages? Authors need to stick to their own writing without drawing from other literary worlds. Similarly, pop culture references do not mix well with the fictional works because they take you straight out of the story and into the real world. Respectfully, when millennial writers attempt to use current slang, it really, truly does not land right.
On a more serious note, we cannot have books that blur the line between spreading awareness on controversial topics and randomly inserting unnecessary plot lines. Often, these convoluted plots get lost within the larger story, only getting brought up every five or so chapters. It goes without saying that glorified abuse and toxic relationships are an easy no in YA novels. (*cough cough*: Colleen Hoover).
There is no doubt I hold the utmost respect for authors. Writing a novel is not easy, and working to appeal to your audience is even harder. The ways a work can be interpreted are completely subjective to the reader: sometimes things land how the authors intend them to, and sometimes they do not. But this is normal: part of being an avid reader is discovering your opinions and preferences when it comes to genres, tropes and themes. Distinguishing your do’s and don’t’s, whether as opinionated as mine or not, is how you as a reader will evolve into an introspective critical thinker.
