A Note To Self: But Why Do You Write?
Caroline Smailes
'But why do you write?' she asked.
‘To be heard,’ I said. 'September 2016. That was the first time I ever felt heard.'
What I didn’t add was that my desire to be heard isn’t some egotistical need for attention. The opposite really, since when I'm ‘heard’ I’m shining a spotlight on the voices that are overlooked or ignored.
And it's entirely relevant that most of my protagonists are teenagers. Because the experience of being ‘young’ varies so dramatically amongst individuals. Despite what many may wish, it isn’t the case that every young person has a stable environment to grow, develop and achieve his or her potential. The fact that young people are so often deprived of those opportunities, through no fault of their own, is something that still shrouds me.
‘The Drowning of Arthur Braxton’, ‘The Unwrapping of Theodora Quirke’, ‘In Search of Adam’ and ‘Black Boxes’ all explore the darker side of growing up. They all offer comment on how contemporary society continues to repeat narratives of discrimination and neglect, even when packaged in an alternative way. And they all seek to offer voice to those young people who don’t quite belong and to those who struggle to be heard; sixteen-year-old Arthur is abandoned by his mum and forced to be a carer for his dad, fourteen-year-old Laurel exists within poverty and is abused by her employer, nineteen-year-old Theodora is lost in plain sight, fifteen year-old Pip is a carer for her suicidal mother. Arthur, Laurel, Theo and Pip represent young people on the outskirts of society. They’re not the popular kids; if anything they’re labelled ‘weird’ by their well-liked peers.
Everything I write seems to be about the human need to belong somewhere or to something, and a combination of everything that it is to be a teenager who doesn’t quite fit into a society that increasingly demands perfection.
I was recently asked why I thought anyone would want to read a story about a broken, working-class girl from Liverpool. They weren't being kind. And, to be honest, I don’t blame some for hating the rawness, crudeness (never count my 'fucks') and honesty in my portrayal of those who'll shoulder the heaviest burdens within our society. If they choose to ignore them in real life, why would they want to read about them for 'fun' in their spare time? But, equally, this is my choice and my only way to give those lost, underrepresented individuals a voice.
I was recently asked why I thought anyone would want to read a story about a broken, working-class girl from Liverpool. They weren't being kind. And, to be honest, I don’t blame some for hating the rawness, crudeness (never count my 'fucks') and honesty in my portrayal of those who'll shoulder the heaviest burdens within our society. If they choose to ignore them in real life, why would they want to read about them for 'fun' in their spare time? But, equally, this is my choice and my only way to give those lost, underrepresented individuals a voice.
Young people have much to teach us and a ridiculous amount of responsibility already rests on their shoulders. Let's be blunt, they’re the people who'll be picking up the pieces of all the fucked up decisions that have been made in the UK over the last couple of years. Yet still too many seek to patronise and dismiss adolescents’ experiences, their worth and their voices.