The Difference Between Middle Grade, YA, and Adult Novels
Since my last article was about book genres, I figured I’d touch on another box that publishing puts novels into: age category. Like genre, a novel's age category helps the ideal reader find it. And while a young adult can certainly read adult fiction and an adult can certainly read middle grade fiction, there are expectations for each age category that are helpful to know.
Middle Grade
Middle grade novels are intended for children between the ages of 8 and 12. They feature a protagonist within that age range or slightly older. You’ll seldom see a recently-published middle grade novel with an adult protagonist—not because children are incapable of learning from adults, but because, in its current form, this age category is all about themes and issues that middle graders deal with, like making friends, facing bullies, first crushes, and family relationships.
Middle grade protagonists are exploring their world, its boundaries, and reacting to events that happen to them. The main characters can be self-reflective and thoughtful, but they aren't as inwardly-focused as YA characters. Middle grade protagonists are often observing and trying to understand their world. They're usually concerned with making friends, social pressures, and family dynamics.
Middle grade typically does not include profanity or sexual content. However, difficult topics like death, violence, mental health, grief, and addiction are not off the table. The difference between how these themes are handled in middle grade and other age categories is voice, style, and content. For example, here is a death scene from The Dragonet Prophecy (Wings of Fire series) by Tui T. Sutherland, the first book of a middle grade series with young dragons as the protagonists:
"Take them all," Queen Scarlet announced. "Except this one, of course." She shook Dune lightly, as if she were shaking the fluff off a dead pigeon. He clawed at her talons, his eyes bulging. "I mean, what use is a crippled dragon who can’t fly? I’m surprised you haven’t killed yourself already, SandWing. But I can take care of that for you." “No!" Sunny screamed, leaping at them. But it was too late. With a chilling crack, Queen Scarlet snapped Dune’s neck and dropped his body on the stone floor. “Dune!" Sunny howled. She squirmed past Scarlet and crouched beside him, shaking him with her front talons. His mangled wing flopped, and his scales scraped against the rocks. His black eyes were empty. "Dune, wake up!" Clay was too horrified to move, even if he could have escaped the SkyWing soldier. Dune is dead, and it’s all my fault. I came up with the smoke-signal plan. I brought the SkyWings here to kill him. Who else is going to die because of me?
In contrast, below is a death scene from an adult novel, The Priory of the Orange Tree by Samantha Shannon. Loth and his friend Kit are traveling through a cavern when a quake hits and rocks cave in. Loth wakes up afterwards and searches for Kit.
He could not be dead. He must not be dead. Loth shoved at the wall of debris with all his might, threw his shoulder against it time and again, struck at it with the ice staff and pounded his fists bloody. When at last it gave way, he reached into the rubble and hauled at the rocks with his bare hands, and the air down here was like half-set honey, sticky in his throat… His fingers closed around a limp hand. He shoved more glass aside, his muscles straining with the effort. And there, at last, was Kit. There were the eyes Loth knew, their laughter gone. The mouth, so quick to smile, that would never smile again. There was the tablet about his neck, twin to the one he had given Loth at their last Feast of Fellowship. The rest of him was out of sight. All Loth could see was the blood that seeped between the rocks. “Forgive me," he said thickly. "Forgive me, Kitson Glade."
These scenes have similarities. In both cases, the narrating character has lost a significant person in their life and feels guilty about their death. The death means something and is a catalyst for change; the narrator’s actions have led to this moment, and there’s no going back.
The scene from The Priory of the Orange Tree is not more graphic than the scene from The Dragonet Prophecy, though that certainly can be a difference between middle grade and adult fiction (you won’t find Game of Thrones-level gore in books for kids). But the real difference here is the voice and introspection. Loth spends a paragraph dreading what he might find as he looks for his friend among the rubble. The emotional impact creates a deeper crater in Loth than it does in Clay; Clay is unable to process more than his shock and a child’s understanding of guilt, which is overcome with love and acceptance by the end of his arc. Loth is able to process the event with a deeper understanding of the life that has been lost and never quite forgives himself for the death of Kitson.
In middle grade, scenes of violence are often referred to but not completely described, or they are described quickly without lingering too much on the details. Wings of Fire features horrific events, including fights to the death and venom melting an eyeball. It possibly gets away with a bit more violence than your average middle grade novel because the characters are dragons rather than humans, and that allows readers a level of distance.
Because children often face difficult topics in their daily lives, like accidents, chronic illness, deaths of family members, abuse, prejudice, etc., it’s important to show middle grade characters encountering those things too. Middle grade novels usually approach these topics with a hopeful tone, positive character arcs, and happy endings.
There are categories intended for even younger readers (board books are for ages 0–3, picture books are for ages 4–8 and chapter books are for ages 6–10); however, writing in those categories is very different from the three I’m discussing in this article—so different that they deserve their own article by an expert in writing for those ages. If you’re interested in writing kidlit for younger children, check out Writing Picture Books by Ann Whitford Paul, Writing Irresistible KidLit by Mary Kole, KidLit411, and SCBWI.
Young Adult
Young adult novels are intended for readers between the ages of 12 and 18. The protagonists are typically 15 to 18 years old and are on the cusp of becoming adults, so themes like figuring out who they are and who they want to be, first loves, what society expects or demands of them, friendship, school, and exploring relationships outside of family are common.
The pacing of YA novels tends to be quick, with an in-the-moment narration style that makes first-person narration a popular choice. For example, here’s a paragraph from the first chapter of Judy I. Lin’s A Magic Steeped in Poison:
Our house is dim and quiet as I move through the rooms like a thief. Rifling through boxes and drawers, fumbling with things my father kept hidden, so as not to be reminded of his grief. I weave between chairs and baskets, drying racks and jars, my footsteps careful. I can hear Shu coughing softly through the walls, tossing in her bed. She has gotten worse in these past few days.
This sample is written in the first-person, present tense (“our house is dim and quiet as I move through the rooms” as opposed to “our house was dim and quiet as I moved through the rooms”). As the reader, I feel like I’m in the narrator’s head, and her thoughts are interspersed with movement and action.
But perhaps the biggest difference between YA and other age categories is that teenagers think differently than adults, and this should be reflected in the narration. What does this mean, practically speaking? Take a look at the science for inspiration:
Your brain isn’t fully developed until your mid-20s, so a teenager’s brain is still very much in progress. While adults think with their prefrontal cortexes (the rational part of the brain), teens process information with the amygdala (the emotional part of the brain). So teens will react strongly to emotions and may have trouble processing them. Teens also tend to seek rewards and pleasurable experiences (this is obviously a thing for adults as well, but an overactive mesolimbic dopamine system—which plays a big part in the brain’s pleasure responses— may bring out these behaviours more frequently in teens).
So, your teen character may act “illogically” because they are feeling more than they are thinking. Their world will end if they’ve gotten into a fight with a friend or have to stay home from a party or have an unreciprocated crush. They may do something risky or irrational to get what they want, like jumping onto a moving train (Divergent by Veronica Roth), asking their crush to the ball when they know their royal duty is to marry someone else (Cinder by Marissa Meyer), or joining the king’s council when they know they’re cursed to kill the king (Raybearer by Jordan Ifueko).
Teenagers’ developing brains also make them quick to adapt to new situations, and they tend to be particularly gung-ho about going on adventures, meeting new people, and tackling new challenges. Your teen character is likely to jump off that 100-foot cliff or ride that dangerous zipline simply because they want to try it (or because peer pressure). In their minds, the rewards are greater than the risks.
Though teens are very focused on themselves and their inner journeys, they will also start developing empathy. There is research that suggests teens who grow up with healthy family relationships are more likely to develop empathy quicker than teens who feel less secure at home, so consider your character’s home life when deciding how understanding and supportive they are.
As far as content goes, you have more leeway with things like gore and violence in YA than you do in a middle grade. Here again, it’s more about how the events are written than about what or what not to include. The Hunger Games is literally about children killing each other, but it is not the same level of graphic as Game of Thrones.
Some people think there are certain topics that you should avoid in a YA novel, like sex, drugs, language, or drinking, but YA novels often include these things because many teens have sex, do drugs, swear, and drink, and addressing those issues in meaningful ways is more helpful than pretending they don’t exist.
YA can be light and hopeful in tone, but there’s also room for darker stories and everything in between.
There is a category between YA and Adult called New Adult, aimed at readers aged 18–25 with protagonists around the same age. Some define New Adult as "YA but with steamy sex," while others define it as books that explore topics like leaving home for the first time, college life, identity, sex, careers, and relationships. Examples of NA fiction include A Court of Thorns and Roses by Sarah J. Maas, Sunshine by Robin McKinley, and Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo. However, publishing hasn’t made an official space for this age category (there’s no New Adult section in libraries or bookstores), so these books often still get tagged as either YA or Adult. But there is a definite desire for NA books, so hopefully publishing will take note.
Adult
Adult novels are intended for readers 18+. Trying to define “adult” is much more difficult than explaining middle grade or YA, but I can tell you what “Adult” does not mean:
“Adult” does not mean R-rated; you can have an adult novel with or without violence, swearing, sex, or salacious content. “Adult” does not mean protagonists of a certain age; adult novels can feature children, teenagers, grownups, 1000-year-old immortals, whatever. “Adult” does not mean a specific style or pace; adult novels can be fast and action-packed or slow and lyrical.
I appreciate how author Max Florschutz defines the age category: “There’s responsibility and the acknowledgement that things carry weight, that decisions bring consequences on all levels. There’s a level of seriousness and realism to approaching a character’s emotions, responses, or ideas.”
Basically, adult fiction delves deeper than any of the other age categories—it explores its concepts and themes to the nth degree, often (though not always) from the perspective of an older character.
For example, Andy Weir’s Project Hail Mary is an adult sci-fi novel about a man named Ryland Grace who wakes up on a spaceship with no memories of who he is, how he got there, or who the two bodies in the pods next to his are. He spends the first chapters exploring his environment as memories slowly start to return. Then we get this scene as the death of his comrades sinks in:
My vision blurs. I wipe my eyes. Tears. I can’t… I can’t remember their names. But… they were my friends. My comrades. Only now do I realize I’ve been facing away from them the whole time. I’ve done everything I can to keep them out of my line of sight. Scrawling on the wall like a madman with the corpses of people I cared about right behind me. But now the distraction is over. I turn to look at them.
As an adult, Ryland has a self-awareness that a child would not possess. A child might not be able to pinpoint their reason for avoiding the dead people and would probably not deliberately confront those difficult emotions like Ryland does.
This doesn’t mean protagonists in adult novels are wise and perfect and always make the right decisions. There are plenty of adult characters who do stupid things (I’m looking at you, Victor Frankenstein).
Project Hail Mary’s structure is also geared towards a mature reader; as Ryland’s memories randomly return, scenes from his past are interspersed with the narration in the present. Ryland is able to process the information with the wisdom of an adult, and themes and connections are made between the two timelines; for example, characters have a conversation about death in the past as Ryland faces death in the present.
Adult fiction is less about specific styles, themes, or content that is or is not included, and more about expression through a mature lens.
Hopefully, this clears up any confusion and inspires you to target the age category you are most excited about reaching!
