Blood Roses

I first read Francesca Lia Block when I was 14 years old. I fell in love.

More than a decade later, I'm still excited when I see a new book from her, but for the last five years, I've been disappointed more often than not.


I nailed down what's pissing me off about the flowery language that used to make me feel so dreamy. She breaks the rule that was hammered into me in my college writing classes: Show, Don't Tell.

All she does is tell, using a quote here or there from the characters to back her up. I used to love it but now it bothers me because it feels lazy. Each story in Blood Roses feels like an outline for what could have been a short novel. I feel like she's just cranking out this fragments of superficially-told stories because she has such a cult following.



Am I expecting too much? She's a young-adult author and I take that into consideration, but I don't think it's an excuse. I've read dozens of very well-written stories for teens.

Next time, I'm not springing for the hardcover. I'll get it from the library or wait for the paperback.