Time for another book recipe! This time I’ll be looking at coming of age stories. Get ready to go back to high school – don’t you really miss puberty?
- One monologue-prone teenage protagonist
- Parents who don’t understand
- A hot teen issue of your choice
- High school
- One love interest, two if you’re greedy
- Peer pressure
- A faithful best friend, to be ignored at every opportunity
- A really bland setting
- The word ‘like’
- Take your teenage protagonist and clueless parents and slap them all in a house. Make sure it’s really boring, so the reader really gets why the protagonist wants a car or something.
- Get out of bed, it’s time for school. No, you can’t have five more – get up, I said!
- Time to meet our delightfully quirky high school friends. Choose your clique carefully. Everybody hates cheerleaders, so you’re best avoiding them, but remember no-one likes an unwashed nerd either.
- Go to class or something. Whatever. I don’t care.
- Omigod guys, it’s the high school crush! They’re coming this way, everybody be cool, and make sure to talk about how the main character’s got a zit they don’t want noticed in the internal monologue.
- Our protagonist gets to hang out with their crush for some reason, yay! But uh-oh, they were supposed to see their best friend at the same time. How do you choose between –
- CRUSH CRUSH CRUSH.
- The main character has hung out with their crush and it’s all been reasonably fine. The hot teen issue came up though. Hope that’s not going to be a thing later on.
- Monologue about stuff. It’s that or homework.
- The main character has an opportunity to hang out with their crush! Isn’t this just the best. But uh-oh, what’s that coming up ahead? It looks like…
- PEER PRESSURE.
- OK, the hot teen issue is becoming a bit of a problem now. Sure are a lot of opinions about this thing. Monologue about them.
- Ignore your best friend again, you’ve got a crush to drool over.
- You’ve been invited to one of the cool kids’ parties! You know, one of those absolutely mythical parties involving jet-skis and cocaine and that thing belonging to their parents that had better not get smashed.
- Argue with the parents about it.
- Disobey the parents and go to the party anyway! Your crush is there and it’s all great until –
- The hot teen issue happens! But you know, in a really bad way.
- The police get called and you’re in trouble now. In fact, you’re grounded until the age of thirty-four.
- Mope a bit, but then realise that this hot teen issue stuff is important and you’re allowed to have your own opinion about it. Do something thoughtful to show how mature you are now.
- Make up with your best friend. Make out with your crush, or don’t, depending on how much of an idiot they’re being. And look at this – you’re un-grounded, and just in time for prom! Maybe those parents do understand after all.
THE END. Serve sprinkled with ‘like’ so everyone knows you’re definitely a teenager.
- Make sure to get the teenage slang just right. It’s important, yo.
- Choose your teen issue carefully. If you’re going for something like sex or drugs, then keep it toned-down. Funny tingly feelings are fine, but full-blown orgies are off the table.
- Keep to the acceptable pantheon of curse words. You want a few in there to show you’re edgy, but you drop any f-bombs and you’re grounded, mister.
- Just because you’re writing a teenage character doesn’t mean you have to compromise on your authorial metaphors. Go ahead and lay out the fanciest literary imagery you can think of – and then add ‘like’, ‘whatever’ or ‘or something’ to the end of the sentence. They’re teenagers, it’s what they do.
- Make sure your main character spends 40% of the book shrivelling up with embarrassment. It’s comedy!
- If your main character is a boy, their best friend is always a skinny nerd. If they’re a girl, the best friend is always fat. It’s the rule.
- Love triangles are optional here. If you do decide to include one, at least one of the people involved must be a Bad Boy™.
- Always, always write in first person.
And here’s one I made earlier…
“I dunno, Cass,” says Martha, leaning against the locker next to mine, “I think it’s pretty risky.”
I roll my eyes and grab my Trig folder. Martha Floffmann has been my best friend since forever, but she can be a bit of a square sometimes. But she’s my best friend, so I don’t mind too much.
“It’ll be fine,” I say, as we head to our next class. “Everyone does it eventually. It’s not like it’s a big deal.”
She blushes and pushes her glasses a little higher. “Yeah, but…now?”
“Well, maybe not right this minute, but y’know, soon.”
“Are you really ready for something like that? I know I’m not.”
We stop outside the classroom. “Well I mean, I guess I am. Who’s ever really ready for something like that? But I mean, y’know, if I felt really strongly about it and the right person was, y’know, in the running, then –”
“Hey! It’s Cassidy, isn’t it?”
My whole body goes tingly. My heart literally stops and my entire body starts blushing. I know that voice. When I turn around, he’ll be standing there.
I’m not ready for this. I look terrible – my hair’s a mess, there’s a Nutella stain on my shirt and my dog threw up on my trainers this morning. Maybe he won’t notice the smell. Or the fact that my face is basically one giant zit.
Well, here goes.
I turn around and see him: Trent Calliber. Captain of the football team, tall, with dark blonde hair and green eyes and a face sculpted by literal angels. He looks like a cross between Michelangelo’s David and a swimsuit model and I’m just dead. It actually hurts to look at his face, he’s so pretty.
He smiles and goddammit, I can feel my heart dancing a merengue.
“What are you girls talking about?”
Martha butts in. “Lowering the voting age to –”
“Nothing,” I interrupt, “just, y’know, girl things. For girls. Your hair is…hair today. I mean, it’s nice. For hair. Um.”
This always happens whenever I talk to him. My brain just passes out and my mouth is all welp, here’s freedom, at last. It’s so embarrassing.
Trent’s frowning. Oh God, I’ve done something wrong. It’s simultaneously the best and the worst thing I’ve ever seen and goddammit, why does he have to be so pretty?
“Lowering the voting age?” he asks. “You don’t actually care about that stuff, do you?”
Martha’s opening her mouth but it’s too late – I’m laughing, too loud, and now everyone is staring at me. Oh God, I can see the Nutella stain out of the corner of my eye. I know it’s there.
“No, no, of course not! Voting’s like, for dorks, or whatever. God. Ew. I mean, so last year!”
He smiles. “Great. For a second I thought you were like, a square or something.”
“Me? No way! I’m…triangular?”
He laughs. Oh God. Is it possible to get pregnant from this?
“You’re funny. Hey, listen. I’m throwing a rager Friday night. You should swing by sometime.”
Omigod. Oh my God. Trent Calliber has just asked me out. Trent fudging Calliber. OK Cassidy, play it cool, play it cool. It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for.
“I mean, I guess I could,” I say, tossing my hair. Bonus – now it covers up the Nutella stain! “I mean, if I’m not too busy.”
“Oh, Cass,” says Martha, “Friday’s when we’re going to that –”
“So where is your place?” I say, nudging her out of the way. “And what time should I get there? And do I need to bring anything? Is there a dress code? What about –”
He laughs again. I really am going to have to ask the nurse about this pregnancy thing. “Relax, babe,” he says, and my entire body is going did you hear that he called me babe!, so relaxing is kind of off the menu now. “Just be there.”
He walks away. Martha frowns up at me, but she’s my best friend, so I don’t mind.
“I thought you said you were coming to my thing. I’ve bought the tickets.”
Trent is still walking away – slowly, thank God. My body is so tingly I literally cannot think about anything else and I’ve lost all motor function in my arms. Guess that’s why I’ve dropped my Trig folder.
“Did you hear?” I whisper, “he called me babe.”
My full book-cookbook can be found here. Let me know what you’d like me to look at next – and as always, take this recipe with a pinch of salt.