Written into a Corner

Since I write a lot of YA fantasy, I naturally also read a lot of it. There’s something delightful about taking an activity I already enjoy and counting it as research. The genre is so vast that, sadly, I’ll never be able to read all of it, but I’ll keep trying. It’s nice to see certain trends gaining popularity in recent years like empowered heroines, marvelously complex magic systems, inspiration drawn from sources other than medieval Europe and, related to that, large casts of entirely non-white characters.

Other trends I’m…less fond of. It might just be a personal bugaboo, but I dislike first-person present tense and I don’t understand why just about every YA book is narrated that way. It feels forced and gimmicky and serves no purpose that I can tell. Stylistic choices can be very subjective, so if everyone else is loving it, I’ll just have to grit my teeth and deal with it.

But the trend that I really want to talk about is the omnipresent love triangle. This is not, of course, limited to YA, nor is it a new trope. It probably came into being around the same time as the very concept of romance. Obviously it resonates with readers, and it’s not going to go out of style any time soon. But it’s become downright inevitable in YA fiction, particularly speculative genres like fantasy, sci-fi or paranormal romance (more on that in a moment). And I think my knee-jerk dislike might originate in the frustratingly predictable nature of a YA love triangle. As soon as we hear of the comfortable old childhood friend, or meet the mysterious and fascinating new guy, we know what’s going to happen. May I say, with all due respect for the effectiveness of tried-and-tested tropes, YAWN.

I could mention a few of the huge breakout YA franchises and how they helped to popularize this trend, like Twilight and The Hunger Games. Yes, the publishing industry does favor and encourage plot points that seem to rake in the dollars, but most successful franchises have more going for them than a love triangle. Rather than trying to target any particular story as the instigator, I’ll acknowledge why love triangles would carry a particular appeal to YA readers (who are mostly female in this case — the protagonist is nearly always a young woman, and that’s a whole other point of interest whose scope is far beyond a single essay. Anyway.)

Young people like to read books about young people, because they want to relate to the hero. They want to imagine themselves in their place. And for a lot of girls, they delight in the prospect of having not one, but two dreamy guys throwing themselves at you. It also has that tinge of melodrama that’s common to the teenage experience. Everything is a big deal. Any day you might meet the love of your life — but what if you don’t know which one he is?!?

I’m…kind of a grouchy old lady in this regard. I was born with the sensibilities of a 40-year-old. I’ve always rolled my eyes at love triangles, from Arthur/Guinevere/Lancelot to Peeta/Katniss/Gale. Just get on with the real story and never mind this contrived stuff. Yet I love romance, when it’s done well. So what’s my problem with love triangles?

They feel lazy. How do you make a story out of two people in love? With paranormal romance, this question is particularly crucial because the love story is the primary plotline. You need conflict. What’s an easy conflict? Throwing in a rival for the girl’s affections. Blah. I like fresh obstacles; something that you don’t see in every single story. These are easy to create if the romance is the secondary plot, but even as the primary — if you’re writing about girls falling in love with supernatural creatures, you can surely generate twists and turns that hinder their romance without relying on a tired old trope.

They’re a tease. Which one will she choose?!? Pick a team! Uh, no thanks. For all my cynicism, I’m actually a big fan of happy endings, and with love triangles you’re inevitably promising disappointment for at least one corner of the triangle. I don’t want to have to choose happiness for some at the expense of another.

They risk minimizing the heroine’s personal journey in favor of making her the Object of Desire. If you’re not careful, you end up making your protagonist little more than a ping pong ball bouncing back and forth between two guys. I’m Team Strong Character Development, not Team Best Guy Wins the Prize and the Prize is the Girl. Hey, maybe she doesn’t have to choose either guy. There’s a new thought.

So that’s my highly-opinionated take on it. I’m not categorically opposed to a story with a love triangle, but it better have a darn good reason for including it, and a fresh take on how it plays out. Otherwise, I’ll happily continue seeking out romance that doesn’t leave anyone sulking in a corner.