I'm Just a Kid and Life is a Nightmare

I apologize for not posting this earlier today. At about midnight last night, I realized I hadn’t written it yet, and still had no idea what it was about. Now, I kind of know. I'm going to share some things with you. I've been going on and on about how I'm going to revise The Midnight Carnival. Well, I thought I'd share some of the original draft with you, to see what you think.

This excerpt is the very beginning. Rereading it now, I can see where I was just going for word count. But here, judge for yourself.

Something broke downstairs. A lamp, I think. Too heavy to be a dish, and too fragile to be a chair. I turned up the volume on my music to drown out the screeching sound of my mother’s voice. I didn’t know what they were fighting about this time. I didn’t want to know. At seventeen, I was supposed to be worrying about passing classes and which boys were interested in me, not about trying to hold my parents’ crumbling marriage together.

Usually I’d lock myself in my room with the excuse that I had homework to do. On the weekends, I’d go hang with my friends for as long as possible, just to avoid coming home. But right now was a Tuesday in July, and neither was an option. Most of my friends were off on family vacations, anywhere but here.

Auburn was not a large city, and there wasn’t a lot to do for a lone teenager. Pretty much everything is boring when you’re alone. If I’d had a car, I probably could have gone into Roseville or Sacramento, but again, alone, what was the point?

Something else crashed in the living room. It was getting hard to drown out the yelling. Turning the music off, I pulled on my sneakers and grabbed my jacket. Sure, it was July, but it was also eleven fifteen at night. And who knew how long I’d be gone.

The window creaked as pushed it up. Not that they would hear. I used to worry about getting caught sneaking out, but now I’d come to realize I could land a helicopter on the roof and they wouldn’t notice. The roof outside my window extended over the front porch, and at the side was a lattice with some kind of half dead climbing vine on it. One of these days I was going to be too heavy for the flimsy wood to support me, but not today.

I crept across the front yard and made a left on High Street. No plan, no destination in mind. I just needed to get out of that house. And maybe they’d notice it got really quiet and figure out I’d left, but what were they going to do? Punishment would require them to give a damn about anything other than their endless squabbles.

When I’d come downstairs with new burgundy streaks in my hair, they said nothing. I doubt they even noticed. Just after my birthday the past October, I let my friend Lexi pierce my nose with a needle and not enough ice. When I got home from that sleepover, I expected a reprimanding “Addie!” or even an “Adelaide Louise!” if they were really mad. But I got nothing. Just a “Did you have fun?”

The issue here is that it's a YA novel. That's "young adult," if you're not in the know. But I'm concerned that I'm too far removed from the teen experience to convincingly write a relatable teenage character. I remember how I was at that age, but I don’t think my experience is relevant to teens of today. This opening scene really sets the stage and introduces the character. If I can't get her right in this scene, the rest of the story will be all blah.

So what would be super helpful is if anyone in my target age range could tell me what they think of this character as she is introduced. What kind of things would make her more relatable? What would you want to know about her? Where would you like to see her story go? She's going to end up in a mysterious circus, but the rest is up in the air.

Of course, I'd love anyone's opinion, but especially the teen crowd.

See you all Tuesday.