I took AP English and Literature in high school with Mr Daly. One of the books we had to read was Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, and everyone in class hated it. “It’s so confusing! There’s too much in here!” I hated it too, but it also helped me understand stream of consciousness style and how to write how you think.
Two authors Mr. Daly also assigned to the class have stuck out to me: F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway. I read The Great Gatsby my junior year of high school and it has remained one of my favorite books. I remember so vividly picturing those wild party scenes in my head on a vast green lawn, with summer twilight twinkling in the background, almost smelling the sweet summer nighttime air.
We also read Hemingway’s Hills Like White Elephants in class. But I sought out For Whom The Bell Tolls on my own and was shocked at the story. And the clarity of it.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, I also read The Scarlet Letter for that same class and was almost repulsed by the loquacious Nathaniel Hawthorne. The story felt muddled between all his fluff. (And it was summertime homework, so it just felt extra cruel.)
My sister read The Fault in Our Stars by John Green as a high schooler. One day, she burst into my room, sobbing about one of the final chapters of the book. I recall sitting at my desk, watching her sob, and going “ooookkaaaayyyy…” A few months later, I was convinced to read the book myself and burst into her room sobbing just as hard. I marveled at how a story can grip you and wrench you to pieces.
When I first started journalism classes, my professor Holly told me that I didn’t have to “have a button” at the end of my articles. I was blown away! I felt like everything had to be wrapped up nicely with a bow. But journalism is not like that.
And all my journalism classes taught me to pare my writing down. Inadvertently, as I was trimming my ledes and inverted pyramids, the practice carried over to my creative writing. I always felt ridiculous adding more ‘flowery prose’ in my playwriting classes (even though it was necessary).
While I was in middle and early high school, I read what I now understand is called “chick lit.” But for me, it was a way to see what was ahead for me in high school and adulthood with a glamorous, fantastica twist. Meg Cabot and Sophie Kinsella were the two main authors for me–I explored the world of high school and princess etiquette with The Princess Diaries series and bumbled around London with Becky Bloomwood in the Shopaholic books. Then, I strayed away. I guess my journalistic ambitions and education caught up with me, as I was devouring more cut-and-dry biographies and historical nonfiction rather than romcoms for years. (I still do love a good biography and nonfiction book–tales about old Hollywood stars or theatre legends and British royal history tomes are my favorites.)
But then, like everyone else on TikTok in 2023, I picked up Happy Place by Emily Henry at my local library. And I remembered that romcom books can be FUN! With substance! And that it’s ok to escape into a love story while balancing it with some real-life problems focusing on grief and loss. So that began my recent rediscovery and proud reclaiming of “chick lit,” which I am enjoying with gusto. And rereading The Princess Diaries and Shopaholic series with newfound appreciation, more relatable life experience of my own, and unabashed joy.
Because that’s what reading books and telling stories should be about, right?
Faith Brody 