So here's the issue I have with a few younger writers that I've read for review: especially in the case where the writer has grown up in privileged circumstances, they have a sort of brittle non-style that irks me to no end. They want to be John Irving or Wes Anderson--all 'quirky' characters and pseudo sophisticated dialogue and quasi-pithy observations--without the life experience to make those characters live. The characters are a collection of oddities with no souls. Writers like Irving and Anderson can carry it off through talent and a keen ear for real dialogue and an ability to show heart in their characters. I'm not sure if it's because the writers are just are too young, or because their own lives have limited the persons with which they've come in contact; in other words, they've cobbled together a view of common humanity from stories or movies without actually meeting common people. As a result, their characters sling witty comments at each other and make grand statements, but have no actual dialogue that sounds like anything you'd hear if you listen in on 'the man in the street' (and if you know any writers, make no mistake: they're listening to you--lol). Even my kids have noticed this with a VERY popular YA author (who shall remain nameless here)--they observe that no kid they've ever met speaks like his characters speak. As a result, the books are no reflection of anything remotely resembling real life. They're 'NYC lifestyle books', and they get published because these admittedly literate kids (and they should be, given the schools they've attended) have the clout to see it happen.
I am disgruntled today, so pardon the vent. I want to be gruntled (lol), so I will put aside this lifestyle book and dive into something that has people who act and speak like people, regardless of the fantastic situations in which they find themselves.
Hello, Firestarter, my old friend...