Signs I'm a YA Writer

At my first writers' conference, my teacher asked us why we wrote for the age of our audience. Many people gave interesting answers that week. My favorite was from another seasoned, published author. She usually writes about 12 to 13-year-olds and for an audience of the same age because, in a way, it's like her looking back and trying to take care of herself then. I wonder if that's why I also write about and for teens. It's definitely got something to do with it. That girl back then needed some taking care of, too. What I do know is I've been observant these past few weeks and found signs that also support why I'm a YA writer. Here are a few.

1. My wardrobe. I've grown up in some ways, but I still own and wear my leather beret from high school, as well as my U2 Rattle and Hum t-shirt. I finally gave my "Slinky" t-shirt to my teenage daughter. Don't get me wrong; I would've kept it if it still fit.
2. How I speak. I use "like" more than all my children combined, as well as "lame," "whatever," and even, "hey, girlfriend!" when I speak to my older daughter.
3. I still love to be spontaneous and sometimes immature. For example, purposefully embarrassing my children. Nothing brings me more pleasure than hearing, "Ughh, Mom!" (But my kids are usually smiling when they do this. A good sign, yes?) Yesterday, my daughter dared me to bop my head around and jam like an idiot while driving with her. She did the same. We were laughing so hard, I was crying.
4. Music. My tastes have developed a lot, but I still feel that teenager-y deep connection to music, like it defines me, or I seek to find the songs that do. I continue to play the guitar and sing the same folk ballads I did when I was around a campfire with my friends.
5. My imagination. In high school, I devoted my time to acting on stage, becoming the characters and delving into their backstories and what made them tick. Now I do the same thing, but I create my characters on the page. I bring them to life from scratch. It's still just as exhilarating--even more so!
6. Discovery of Self. No matter how old I get (I'm 36 now), I still feel that yearning to to know who exactly I am and why I fit or don't fit into this world and why I'm here. It keeps me constantly exploring for more.
7. Feeling Deeply. I'm pretty sure I'm moodier and more sensitive now than I was as a teen. I cry easier, laugh harder, and feel keenly the pain of others.

I met an almost ninety-year-old woman a couple years ago. She randomly sat next to me at a large event and started chatting away about wanting to read the book I had on my lap. She confessed she loved Twilight and other popular YA books.

When I'm ninety, I want to be that woman.

If you write, what age do you usually write for and why? If you don't write, what age do you think the "inner you" is?

If You Really Knew Me...

Thanks to my friend Michelle for inspiring me with her own "If you really knew me" blog post.

If you really knew me, you'd know I cannot multitask. I've had selective hearing for as long as I can remember. It's so hard to fight against my body's instinct to keep me focused on one thing at a time.

If you really knew me, you'd know I cannot stand to see someone suffer. I'm still trying to learn that everything's not my fault and I cannot fix everything. Still, it hurts.

If you really knew me, you'd know that I laugh loudly. I throw my head back or double over or shake the chair I'm sitting in.

You'd know the thing that most often triggers my tears is a beautiful song.

You'd know I made a gazillion home movies growing up. Most featured myself as the princess or the glamorous movie star, while I made my younger sister play the maid or the moron.

If you really knew me, you'd know I used to cut off my lower eyelashes in my younger teens. They were too long and curly. I've since embraced my Twiggy eyelashes.

If you really knew me, you'd know that as a teen I was OBSESSED with U2, Winona Ryder, The Young Riders, and Greek mythology. I had scrapbooks for all of these things.

You'd know I have about 37,869 most embarrassing moments. Topping them all is the slo-mo "violin fart" in front of 50 girls and the ultimate trip down the stairs at my junior high school (I kept ricocheting into the wall as I endlessly rolled downward).

You'd know my left kidney belongs to my older brother now.

You'd know I play sad folk songs on my guitar. I don't know how many times my high school friends had to endure my rendition of "Blowin' in the Wind."

If you really knew me, you'd know I have nine brothers and sisters. I'm the oldest sister. That makes me the boss.

If you really knew me, you'd know I am a PERFECTIONIST. And it drives me crazy.

You'd know when my husband proposed to me, he gave me his glow-in-the-dark CTR ring to wear until he could afford something more.

You'd know I won first place in monologues at the statewide high school Shakespearean festival. I was so surprised I jumped on the old man presenting the award and gave him a hug. Luckily, he didn't topple over.

You'd know I cuss like a sailor when I snow ski, or any other time I think I might die.

You'd know that in high school my best friend and I made love potions and drank them--raw eggs and all.

If you really knew me, you'd know that the quality I most admire in others is their sincerity. Being fake is a cardinal sin in my book.

If you really knew me, you'd know I give my heart away easily. It gets trampled on often, but I'd still rather be this way.

If you write your own "If you really knew me" post, please let me know! I'd love to learn more about you.