Books? Who said that?

Of course books are part of that culture - but not in schools. Children are far too young for youth culture, which is really only suitable for adults. Why is it, when you look at the small but growing body of novels that are being written for teenagers, that so few of them borrow the images and themes from the popular world of youth culture? Where is the cross-over between books and other media?

Teenagers as a group consume entertainment - often narrative entertainment - by the barrel load, and the kind of thing they choose for themselves in film, magazines, gaming, music and TV is largely from that culture. Who can blame them? It’s so rich - sexy, loud, violent, ironic and cruel, but also beautiful, dreamy and intense.

Schools have an obvious problem with this kind of thing. Things are worse than ever right now, with government treating books as a mere aid to acquiring reading skills rather than something in their own right, but the fact that schools are educational institutions does give them a certain bias in their buying power - one reason why books for teenagers have been very slow to take on the experience of other media.

Without the support of schools it’s quite possible that children’s books would decline into one of those arts which can’t survive without grants, like modern dance and poetry.

Fortunately, books are such a great teaching aid that we’re likely to carry on for a good while with their support, but in the end, the survival of novels for young people lies with readers wanting to read.

That means kids buying books because they want to, and the fact is, the actual free market among children for books is horribly small. Count the children in the bookshop.

Almost no one writes for them for the money - most do it either out of love or because we do what we do, like your mad aunt who wears her fur coat all the time, evenon a hot day in the kitchen frying sausages. We can’t help it.

My own books cover a wide age range, but a lot of my work is for teenagers, and there you have to be maddest of all. I get a lot of support from schools, but I do feel that each time I try something which uses “youth” imagery, I lose a few friends. Junk, my book on drug culture, was OK: young readers liked the feel of the book, the authentic voice and the straight talking; educators felt they could use it as a resource. It had a purpose.

But my latest book, Bloodtide, which deliberately uses the imagery and themes of other media, has been a lot more problematical. Bloodtide has drawn my best and worst reviews ever - partly depending, I suspect, on the age of the reviewer. Many schools are very nervous of it. People have told me they don’t see the point. I have been warned.

I have some sympathy on this issue. Nine times out of ten, people aren’t worried about kids but about parents. Someone might complain. In fact, someone almost certainly will complain. The book is violent, sexy, bloodthirsty, futuristic and dramatic - tailor-made for the age group, despite a clamour of voices claiming that these very things make it an “adult” book. But the feedback I get from young readers is excellent. Those who like it love it.

The tension is between books that schools feel they can justify and - well, and what? There are almost no books written for teenagers that they can take home in the happy knowledge that their parents will both let them read them and feel uncomfortable about it. We can’t afford to turn our backs on the lessons of other media and I honestly believe that the market for books for people of this age is so small because of the limited range written for them.

Like most authors, I will not be able to carry on writing unless schools support my books. Writing books that schools feel happy with is the sensible option - at least I know the market is there. Writing books that are both literary and borrow these kind of themes and images from other media isn’t going to make my life any easier. But, being mad, I expect I’ll do it anyway.

Melvin Burgess is a children’s author published by Penguin Press