You Don’t Have To Be Pretty – On YA Fiction And Beauty As A Priority

Excellent analysis and super timely.  This wasn’t something I noticed as I read the book, but I have noticed the pattern as well: The strong heroine needs is really pretty, though she doesn’t know/feel it, and the hero-love interest comes along and validates it for her.

I think a lot of young women identify with that – they don’t feel pretty, either – and then they wait for a hero-love interest to prove it. ‘Cause that’s what happens in books.

What do they do when life doesn’t turn out that way?

You Don’t Have To Be Pretty – On YA Fiction And Beauty As A Priority.

Hey baby… wanna fight?

Yesterday was one of those days I love and hate my work. We had a Christmas party for the clients, and it went really well – it was a lot of fun, and I was seeing some things I’m going to miss when I’m gone.  For example, the clients were in groups playing Pictionary and one of them was trying to draw “Angels we Have Heard on High.”  One of the guys said, totally serious: “Angels got high.” I was rolling with laughter, and it’s something I’m going to miss when I’m gone from here.

Then, we served lunch to anyone in the community, like we always do, and I got harassed by one of the guys. He took something I said to my boss and twisting it around sexually. I was embarrassed and angry and I put him out for the day. Things got better and I was walking to get some coffee before an afternoon meeting, and there was this guy in front of me…

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Laundry, shouting, secret

I read these words, and this is the image that comes to mind:

I picture women outside by a stream, maybe under trees, vigorously cleaning laundry and chatting with each other.  There is lots of splashing and laughing.  All around them, their daughters are mingling with one another, some chasing each other and shouting challenges, and others sharing secrets and dreams.

Bulleted Books

Jeananne knew she was ready for a change.  She left the Pennsylvania farming community where she had taught for three years to return to her native Missouri, hoping to find a way to indulge her passion for food into something that would also feed her soul. She grew up in the dusty musky back room of her mother’s thrift shop, her vivid imagination nurtured among the fabric colors and textures as she found and made treasure out of things that seemed to have no value.

She began to nurse the idea of having a food truck, and did research into the possibility of it.  She also scoured craigslist and looked at several trucks.  One day, she found a house in a cool part of town, pretty affordable.  Still indulging her imagination, on a lark, she checked it out.  It was a small brick bungalow by a beautiful park and a fantastic Thai restaurant. On a lark, she talked to the bank about getting a loan. Just to see. She realized how much she would save by purchasing a home rather than paying rent. On a lark, she asked a friend to inspect the unit, then had it inspected professionally.  She talked with friends and other trusted homeowners; making sure she did all she needed to do, crossed every T. She could barely sleep she was so nervous, so surprise by her own chutzpah.

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