I have no desire to grow up. None. On some days, I think growing up is bogus bullshit, to put it bluntly. This is another reason why it’s a gift to write about teenagers—I get to be young, if only when I’m working on a book. It’s a chance to forget about bills, work, supper, all the crap you don’t have when you’re a youngster. You get to be in the moment, which is the greatest gift of all. So yeah—I love being a teenager, and I love having a *reason* to be a teenager (“why yes, I *do* need these supplies to build a bomb-thrower for a treehouse. It’s research for a book.”).
What also rocks is the funding. If people are going to make me have a job, by god I’m going to use that $ to support my teenage life. Research trips to the Black Hills? Sure thing. A car whenever you want it, and no curfew when you have to bring it back? Yes, ma’am. John Hughes films? Any time I want (FERRIS BUELLER #1, WEIRD SCIENCE #2 (see above), and BREAKFAST CLUB #3). Plus there are fewer pimples and (marginally) less boyfriend angst, since the boyfriend’s been around 22 years.
This is not to say I could be a teenager forever: my grown-up life is pretty rad, and a huge chunk of people I love now were not in my life as a teenager. But still—gimme angsty blissful unawareness any time. What a stress-reliever!
Do you wish for your teenage world? Let me know, so you can win some books!