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I was reading an article over at the Saucy Scrivener about being treated as creepy  for reading young-adult fiction.  It’s not something I’ve ever encountered personally, though I am well familiar with a similar sensation from being the only girl standing in the comic book/sci-fi/gaming section of a bookstore or library.

People do tend to discount young-adult fiction for the same reason that they shove to the side any other kind of genre fiction. The accepted thought is that YA fiction is “easier” and “less complex” than adult literary fiction.

I have a great love of literary fiction. I have also, however, long been a crusader for genre fiction. True, the vast majority of genre fiction, no matter what genre it is in, is formulaic and trite. But there are those rare gems among genre fiction and young adult fiction that fully deserve praise based on their literary merit.  Unfortunately, many of them will always be looked down upon for being “just” genre fiction or for having a broad popular appeal.

While I routinely and happily join in the horror that such a horribly written book as Twilight was ever published, I have devoured and loved other books that were classified as “Young Adult”, “Teen”, and even “Children’s” books.  The language might be simpler, the text more straightforward, but complexity of character is what drives the best of these novels, and the best of them absolutely deserve any literary awards or “adult” praise they might receive.

The best of these books have characters with depth and dimension. The characters grow, they learn, they change, and they come alive in the mind of the reader and stay with them long after the book is put away.  Almost all but the most prurient and romance-driven of these books have something to teach their audience, and manage to do so without being didactic.  The very best of these novels? They manage to break away from formulas and tell their story in a wholly original way.

Making a story easier to read does not rid it of any merit, and many of these books are only called “Young Adult” as a marketing gimmick by the publishers. The stories contained within come without age restrictions.

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The fact that books as horribly written as the Twilight series were even published makes me despair for the fate of the publishing industry. The fact that these books espouse anti-women, pro-abuse, anti-choice , your-man-is-your-god-and-your-boss rhetoric couched as supernatural romance, and yet millions of women and girls read and love them, makes me despair for the fate of women. The fact that Stephanie Meyer gets rich while other, much more talented writers are having trouble putting food on the table bothers me, too, and not just because I’m one of those writers.

But I have to give Twilight thanks for at least one thing. Thanks to Twilight pushing the supernatural romance genre into the mega blockbuster range, a number of other excellent authors have gotten published who may not have, and have found success on the lists when their books might otherwise have disappeared into obscurity.

The best of these is Gail Carriger, who is like a modern day Jane Austen, with vampires, werewolves, and ghosts added for a little extra spice. Her Parasol Protectorate series is set in a steampunk version of Victorian England. This is the series that I gave to my younger cousin for Christmas this last year with the note that I wanted her to read a well written supernatural romance, for a change. (So far, she tells me, she loves it.)  I would not have known about her if not for a couple of my friends going into raptures over her books, and as they have done, I have tried to spread the word everywhere I could too.

The other is Cassandra Clare, a familiar name to fandom before she ever signed her own book contract. She was one of the biggest names in fanfiction, particularly in the Harry Potter fandom, and her original stories prove that her talent isn’t just for adaptation.  Her Mortal Instruments series is wonderful, but I, with my love of Victoriana, am particularly fascinated with her Infernal Devices series.

So yes, I hate Twilight for a myriad of reasons, but I do have to give it my gratitude for paving the way for better books in the genre to gain the attention and praise they deserve.

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(Spoiler-free Review!)

Start out by imagining Elizabeth Bennett. Add a hefty amount of steampunk, a few vampires and werewolves, and a good dose of wonderful sounding food and tongue-in-cheek humor. You might come up with something somewhat like Soulless, by Gail Carriger.

I would’ve known nothing at all about this unassuming little book if not for word of mouth, but it was a wonderful discovery. In the current literary world where vampire stories are a dime a dozen, and the majority of them rather decidedly bad, I found myself having to put aside a certain amount of suspicion of any book involving the supernatural.  Once assured that none of the vampires in the book sparkle (with, perhaps, the exception of Lord Akeldama, and that only with sequins) I decided to give it a chance.

I’m glad I did. This book was one of the most fun reads I’ve had in quite a while, largely due to the humor of the novel.  It has no problems poking fun at the tropes of the genres it straddles, while at the same time presenting them in new and rather refreshing ways.  Alexia Tarabotti is a heroine Jane Austen would be proud of:  an unconventional and independent woman in a society where free-thinking women were rarely welcomed. Like Eliza Bennett, she looks upon the women of her own family with amused annoyance as they natter on about fashion and society gossip.  Her male counterpart is a good bit more Heathcliff than Darcy, but a fitting match for her wits and someone who can appreciate a woman who can think for herself.

I couldn’t help laughing out loud at places, but don’t think that this book is all about the giggles.  At its heart are characters you can’t help but fall a bit in love with, a tightly written mystery story that never did lay all its cards on the table until the end, and a romance that is anything but Victorian.

If you like a little steampunk Victoriana and can enjoy a good supernatural story, be sure to pick this book up.

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I was reading this article on Literary Classics that should be made into Video Games on Wired this morning and it got me thinking.

Alice in Wonderland has already been adapted in several different (and sometimes incredibly frightening) ways to video games. Dante’s Divine Comedy is a game now (Dante’s Inferno).  Almost every fantasy-based RPG gives a nod to Tolkien (as does nearly every fantasy-based novel). However, I can think of some classics and should-be classics that would make wonderful games.

Wired mentions Kafka’s Metamorphosis, which would definitely make an interesting and very surreal game, but rather than an old-school 8-bit platformer, I’d see it more as an adventure throwing the protagonist into that surreal world where he wakes up one morning as a cockroach. He’d have to suddenly learn to defend himself against humans, including his own family.

Wired‘s list is a good one, but there are a few that I would add to it.

Milton’s Paradise Lost would make an excellent game, with the ultimate Antagonist that you can’t help but sympathize with, just a bit. In fact, I would almost propose having Satan be the player’s character (if it wouldn’t bring down the wrath of the fanatics on the developer’s head), or perhaps shifting points-of-view as the poem does.  You’d start out playing the Satan, in Hell, and go on to play Adam once the setting switches to Eden.  Something between an RPG and a dungeon crawl would be a good format, especially with all the wonderful setting descriptions, and you’d have a built-in sequel with Paradise Regained.

While we’re on the subject of gothic anti-heros, why not games based on Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage or Don Juan? What better fodder for an adventure game than the adventures written by Lord Byron, an anti-hero himself?  Byronic heroes have appeared quite commonly in video games quite often already, isn’t it about time someone featured the originals? There’s certainly enough sex and violence between the two to titillate even the most prurient of minds, too.

How about a horror game set in Nathaniel Hawthorne’s dark version of New England? Pulling from his entire catalogue, you could create a game filled with the terrors that ordinary humans are capable of inflicting on their own kind under the pretense of “doing the right thing.”  Imagine our game’s hero traveling through a forest only to find that all the people he trusts are doing horrible things in a satanic ritual, or wandering innocently into a town only to be the winner of a lottery that means his death?

We’ve already had plenty of games influenced by Poe and Lovecraft, but no major games entirely based on their work, when you could hardly ask for more game-friendly stories. Why not put Lovecraft’s monsters where they belong, in the stories he created first? Or work your way through Poe’s many traps and puzzles?

Finally, though not exactly accepted as canon literature, games using the stories written by Raymond Chandler or Dashiell Hammett would make wonderful games.  The Max Payne series already ventured into Noir territory, with an original story but definite influences by Chandler in particular. They’d make excellent first-person shooters, and noir-esque lighting effects would make for some interesting graphics.

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It looks like Amazon has realized it’s mistake and reached an agreement with Macmillan over the prices of e-books for the Kindle, but the entire issue (and the strong-arm tactics Amazon chose to employ against Macmillan) only served to make me even more happy that I chose a nook.

You see, Macmillan wanted to charge a more dynamic range of prices (from about $6 to about $15) for its e-books, while releasing them at the same time as the hardcovers are released. Since a hardcover is typically priced at somewhere around $30, even the $15 e-book would be a bargain, but Amazon was insistent that all books for the Kindle be priced at $9.99 or below.

They call this “standing up for the consumer”, however they proved, with the de-listing of all Macmillan books, with the removal of purchased items from kindles, with DRM and ridiculously restrictive licensing, that the consumer is the last thing on their mind.

Because, you see, Macmillan was standing up for the people who produce those books, and Macmillan is one of the largest publishers of science fiction and fantasy literature in the country. When Amazon decided to de-list Macmillan entirely, they decided to wage war not just against a publishing giant, but against an entire genre, its fans, and the writers who write in that genre.

I’m glad that Macmillan held to its principles, here – if they are expected to offer e-books at paperback prices, it is perfectly reasonable to delay the e-book until the paperback release date, otherwise, it should be priced higher to ensure just compensation for the authors, editors, and other folks who work to produce that book. $15 is still a bargain to get a book on its hardcover release date, though if I want a book that badly, I’m likely to buy the hardcover anyway.

For my part, I’m so disgusted with Amazon’s approach to selling e-books that I’ve systematically changed all book links on this blog to Barnes and Noble. Because you see, as a writer, I expect to receive appropriate compensation for my work, and as a fan, I want to ensure that the people who produce the fiction I love don’t get shafted either.

On another, happier note, I’d like to encourage everyone to go visit the newly arrived blog of a friend of mine, Labyrinthine Library.  He’s a designer, a dad, a geek, all that lovely stuff, and can be expected to have some interesting commentary on art, as well as life, the universe, and everything.

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