First: does the mullet make you less trustworthy? Consider the comical evidence of leaders and big-brainy folks mulletized for your examination. I think B-Frank rocks a mullet. (Thanks to Alea for the link).
Second, an article I’ve read and forgot to link to, which is way crap of me because Laura Miller rocks hard. The New Yorker looks at dystopian YA books:
The youth-centered versions of dystopia part company with their adult predecessors in some important respects. For one thing, the grownup ones are grimmer. In an essay for the 2003 collection “Utopian and Dystopian Writing for Children and Young Adults,” the British academic Kay Sambell argues that “the narrative closure of the protagonist’s final defeat and failure is absolutely crucial to the admonitory impulse of the classic adult dystopia.” The adult dystopia extrapolates from aspects of the present to show readers how terrible things will become if our deplorable behavior continues unchecked. The more utterly the protagonist is crushed, the more urgent and forceful the message. Because authors of children’s fiction are “reluctant to depict the extinction of hope within their stories,” Sambell writes, they equivocate when it comes to delivering a moral. Yes, our errors and delusions may lead to catastrophe, but if—as usually happens in dystopian novels for children—a new, better way of life can be assembled from the ruins would the apocalypse really be such a bad thing?
Do you think that same description of YA dystopian narratives applies to the romances of the same type? Romance is definitely not about the extinction of hope. Do you like dystopian YA or dystopian or post-apocalyptic romances?
Finally, an email I received today:
Is it OK that I think a vuvuzuela sounds like something I would have learned about on your website?
Yes. Yes, it is.
Also, “Dystopian Vuvuzela” would be a great name for a blog. As would “Dystopian Mullet,” come to think of it.