Oh! BOY-- Jennie

The hard part about using a flawed character in a YA story is that he has to be imperfect enough to be believable, but not so much he's unlikable.

More than anything, I want my seventeen year-old narrator to evoke your empathy while he fights his inner battles to become his own hero. I want you to want what’s best for him: that which will help him grow and succeed, despite his odds. I want you, simply, to like him.

This is tough.

First, it’s challenging for a 37-year old girlie-girl to write the dialogue, actions, and reactions of a boy twenty years younger. Sometimes, I fear that I don’t quite nail it; that the boy drinks the wrong soda, or has some totally effeminate internal dialogue.

Second, I have to constantly remind myself as I write and revise what this boy’s motivation is. Which is way different from mine, from any female’s I know, actually.

Honestly, in the beginning, I didn’t think that this coming-of-age male voice would be so difficult.

I thought I had enough experience to draw from: an athletic husband, four younger brothers, lots of friends and writing students, and two sons.

Here’s what they’ve taught me: 1) Most of them, (okay, all of them), are more simple creatures than their female counterparts, which they’ll do anything to “get,” but not as much to “keep.” 2) They are very competitive. Over everything. And 3) They like to eat.

I also know that they have serious pressure. Society demands that they sit still through eight years of elementary school, excel at sports in high school, then land a good job and heroically provide for their families for the rest of forever. It doesn’t sound very appealing to anyone, especially someone whose nature is to chase wooly mammoths through the mud.

This pressure, though, is the essence of my character. It defines his motivation, his dialogue, actions, and reactions.

Maybe I didn’t nail everything.

But I watched and listened and learned loads about the other half. It made me think.

Regarding men, I’d say that after almost four decades, I’m finally getting a grip on, oh, let’s call it empathy.