I’m talking about The Outsiders by SE Hinton. How did I escape high school without even hearing of this book?
See, I think I get what the fuss is all about. It’s about not fitting in, and sticking up for your family, and doing what’s right, and being tough, and being compassionate. But I know that teen-me (a version of myself that I think about often) would have loved this book. I wish I had read this in American Lit instead of The Scarlet Letter (no offense, Hawthorne.) Because maybe I would have been more engaged. I get that Hawthorne is important. I do, but I think it could have been so much more important for me to make emotional connections with books. That’s something that got sort of sucked out of me in school. It’s one of the reasons I want to write YA for teen-me.
So, you go, Ponyboy! Thanks for making me remember that.
PS. If I have another kid, I’m considering Ponyboy for a middle name. Or Ponygirl. Is that weird?