M. Suzanne Terry

Shame is a sneaky jerk.

Shame will find one thing – one tiny snippet of fact – and it will harp on it and blow it up into something big and ultimately untrue.  Shame can really ruin my day.

Hannah Ettinger, writer of Wine and Marble (which I highly recommend following, if you aren’t already), wrote a response to Ruth Graham’s article in Slate that stated from the top, “Read whatever you want.  But you should feel embarrassed when what you’re reading was written for children.” Graham argued for a higher standard of literature, cradling her opinion in an impressive nest of disclaimers, and Ettinger wrote a great response post.  It’s just the sort of exchange that I usually enjoy reading.

But Shame had other plans for the chorus in my head.  It took this seemingly innocuous topic and wrote a frickin’ musical.

The opening number went something like this:

Of course you like reading YA

It’s the easiest thing to read!

You don’t read

You don’t write

Rather stay out all night

How on earth will you ever succeed?!

Ouch. Busted.  I haven’t been reading – YA Lit or otherwise – lately, which means I haven’t really been writing lately. I’ve been blogging a bit, but I haven’t touched the WIPs (WsIP?  I’m not sure what the plural of WIP is) in weeks. Between the end of the semester and leaping right into summer, I haven’t had a break, and I’ve really needed one.  I told myself that summer itself is slower and thus break-ish, but my soul knows the difference between slowing the rush and resting for real, and Shame was eager to point it out to me.

My normal response to such an epiphany is to recognize the problem (check) and find a solution. I need to schedule some time to take off work. I need a couple of days to relax from my regular schedule so that I won’t derail into full-on panic mode.  Then I need a couple of days to regroup so that when I come back to the schedule it’s not so jarring. No big deal.  Easy fix.

But Shame isn’t done with me yet.  It wants me to feel like this need for a break is a sign that I can’t handle my life and implies that I am failing at it.  It launches into familiar hits, such as You’re Not A Real Grown-Up and This is Why You’re Alone and  How Long Does It Take to Pay Off a Loan? and Your Hot Mess Apartment and Buy a House Already, You Loser. Shame doesn’t want a solution. Shame wants me to dwell on my issues and mope about them, and it will use anything to make sure that happens.

But Shame made a mistake.  Shame wrote me in as a character. And while I might listen to Shame’s song for a little while, sooner or later I’m going to respond to its facts with some truth.

The dance number begins with a shimmy.  It erupts into a celebration of fun and rest. The lyrics answer every single major issue Shame wants me to remember. The song even circles back to the symptom Shame used to kick this show off.  I do think adults (and teenagers) benefit from reading classics.  I do think adults (and yes, even teenagers) benefit from reading complex contemporary literature. I especially think that writers of adult literature must read adult literature, if for no other reason than to know our market. But when a friend’s 15-year-old cousin came out, I was able to recommend Will Grayson, Will Grayson, and when a friend expressed how overwhelming it is to choose books and movies that will help her daughter contend with this world, I was able to explain why the princesses in Frozen are the princesses that I want little girls – you know, the people shaping our future world – to want to grow up to be, and neither of those conversations would have been possible if I had been too uppity to deign to read or watch them.

For adults who have or know children?

(Chorus) Every adult who is not a hermit

For adults who write YA novels?

(Chorus) Know your art; know your niche!

For adults who enjoy it?

(Chorus) We are going to do what we want!

All reading is right – all reading is good!

But responding to Shame’s accusations isn’t really the point, is it? Twisting the facts makes the facts useless. I can’t have a productive dialogue with a liar and a cheat, and that’s exactly who Shame is. The things on Shame’s list (and whether or not they are factual) are irrelevant.  The real question is this – does Shame get to use them to rule me?

The final number ends with these words:

Shame – I don’t owe you an explanation.

Shame – I don’t want your opinion.

Shame – I don’t need your “guidance.”

Shame – I don’t owe you an—y—thing!

Close curtain.

This post is part of a new link-up hosted by Marvia Davidson called Real Talk Tuesday. Click the button below to join us or add to the conversation!