Am I getting too old for YA? Is a question I’ve been asking myself a lot lately, I know that the obvious answer is no and that you should read what you like no matter your age but I can’t help thinking about it. I can’t help feeling like I’m slowly growing apart from the genre (is it even a genre?), that I’m too old to be reading it.
Just being plain old isn’t even the main reason, I mean, I’m not even old I’m barely twenty but it feels weird that I’ll no longer have the word ‘teen’ attached to my age soon and I’m still reading books marketed towards thirteen year old me. I think the main reason I feel this way is because I can visibility see my tastes changing, I’m starting to pick up and actually enjoy a lot more “adult” fiction, something that I never thought would happen. I’ve been reading YA since I was twelve or thirteen and since then I have been convinced I would love it forever, I’ve always loved YA because of its fast-paced action and relatable characters. There were always things happening in YA. To me adult fiction was filled with concepts I couldn’t relate to, divorce or affairs and everything just felt so … mundane. I know I probably shouldn’t generalize about like, basically the entire literary world and I definitely don’t judge anyone for loving the books they love but man do I find adult fiction boring, it’s so slow. I always asked myself: why would I want to read a book about marriage problems when I could be reading about MAGIC? YA books are quick and flashy and entertaining so it boggles my mind a bit that recently I’ve been choosing more and more adult books.
I feel as if I’m in a very transitional part of my life because even when I look at my adult book choices they still read like YA, like I’m slowly inching my way out of the genre. Easy to read books that share similar YA themes just with older characters and mature language have started to appeal to me a lot more than books I used to pick up so eagerly; I can’t even deny that I’m starting to get sick of some YA tropes and that there are books which are met with so many more eye rolls than thirteen year old me would have given them.
There’s this weird thing when you’re an adult but not quite and adult-adult where you do a lot of things to try to make yourself seem older, to get people to see you as an adult and not a kid. It’s ridiculous of my brain to think that I’m less of an adult because I don’t read grand literary fiction or classic (which, I’ve never liked anyway so) but my brain still thinks that. I think all the time about how my reading choices might affect how people see me and I’m a little ashamed to admit that sometimes … I don’t want to tell people what I’m reading because of it.
YA is … a big part of my life and I think it’ll always be a part of my life, I have found so many books and authors that I love and there are so many stories I can’t wait to devour but I can’t help but wonder not if but when it’ll stop being such a huge part of my life.