But Wood Nymph Seeks Centaur is by Francesca Lia Block — an author whose 24 spellbinding magical-realistic novels have fascinated many thousands of girls and boys since we read her award-winning Weetzie Bat young adult series as teenagers — and this book marks her first foray into the prescriptive realm. I was curious about what kind of dating advice we'd get from the creator of the stories that taught me so much about the hot, subversive, dazzling potential of love and sex when I was in my teens – so curious that I decided to put aside my prejudices about books with the word "dating" on the cover and find out what kind of mythological beasties my friends and I are.

Divorced with two young children, Block reentered the single world later in life via online dating. This experience seems to have been exciting and traumatic in equal measure, and she has drawn heavily on her own experiences in order to devise the book's categories. The chapter that describes the male types in detail is full of girlfriendishly confidential and funny stories, and the descriptions of these types who feature in these stories ring true, though they sound a bit ridiculous taken out of context: "My Garden Elf friend was helping me shop for a vintage Chanel suit," for example, or "I liked the Urban Elf very much. But I was still rebounding from my Satyr and was soon distracted by yet another Satyr; my relationship with the Elf fell away."

But after I got past the inherent oddness of thinking of men as Giants and Werewolves, I was shocked to find how accurately Block was describing many of my exes. I experienced the same feeling of "instant relief" she describes herself as having felt after devising the system: "I recalled all my failed relationships, and when I looked at them through the lens of mythology… I felt a sense of order. Of course the Satyr left me. Of course I couldn't stay with a Faun. I was a Wood Nymph! It was like trying to date the wrong astrological sign."

Skeptics might wince at this comparison – after all, not everyone believes that the position of the stars at the time of our birth determines our essential natures. But even the most rational-minded among us has to admit that people do have essential natures. It might not matter so much whether we call someone a "Pixie," or a "classic Aries" or a "Myers-Briggs ENTJ." Also, trying to figure out what type you and your friends and your significant others are is fun. Tomboyish and energetic, with an underlying seriousness? You may be a Brownie. Passionate, ambitious, and likely to channel your anger into art? You're a Banshee. Do you love beauty, and often insult people without meaning to? It's likely you're a Mermaid. Does your crush have an intense gaze, a lean, athletic body, a comfortable bed and a great stereo? Watch out – you may have a compulsively seductive, never-faithful Satyr on your hands.

The system isn't without its weak spots. A gay friend (who I think is probably a Centuar-Faun) happened to be sitting in my kitchen when this book arrived; he's a longstanding Block fan, but he honed in immediately on how much less useful the system is for predicting the outcomes of same-sex matches. (Block provides a chapter, but acknowledges that a whole other book would be necessary to encompass all the possibilities). And the chapter about female types lacks the specificity of the chapter on males, probably because Block dates men, and only has firsthand experience of what women are like as friends. I had to combine two types to arrive at a description that seemed like it fit me, which Block says is common, but which made reading the chapter about pairings a bit less satisfying (sort of like when Susan Miller told me I had to read the monthly Astrologyzone predictions for both Libra and Aries, but I digress.)

Nevertheless, I found myself recommending the book to friends and bringing up its advice as we chatted about our relationships – and to my mind, anything that brings a fresh perspective to those conversations is worth the cover price. I also chatted briefly with Block via email about how she devised the system, her favorite breakup music, and what the future might hold for a Mermaid-Banshee/Centaur pairing (I was just curious).

How do you think people come by their mythological types? Are we born Mermaids or Werewolves, or does a combination of nature and nurture make us what we are?

I think it is definitely a combination, with, perhaps, a little more emphasis on nurture in respect to my system because in my book I'm primarily talking about how types relate in the venue of dating and often our dating persona is something we create, either consciously or unconsciously. As we get to know someone deeply we discover their true nature, which is, literally, as much about nature as nurture.

What are some red flags — detectable from an online profile or a first glance alone, let's say — that the creature you've got your eye on might be a Satyr?

Satyrs often have beautiful, soulful looking eyes, sexy voices and physical style and grace and they can throw you off. Don't just get carried away by what you see at first. Everything comes down to behavior and actions, not what someone says or how they appear but what they do.

Does he call you back? Is he attentive? Does he keep his wandering eye in check? Is he kind? Does he introduce you to his friends and family at the appropriate time? Is he sexually and emotionally respectful?

I loved the celebrity examples of different types of creatures, or different type-pairings, but I wondered, as I imagine many readers of your fiction must've wondered, what type you'd say some of your characters were. (Of course, some of them are literally Fairies or Vamps!) What's Weetzie, or Cherokee, or Violet, or Claire or Emily in Pretty Dead? (Um you don't have to answer all of these. But I'm curious about all of them!)

Weetzie is Pixie/Fairy. Witch Baby is a Wood Nymph/Banshee. Cherokee is a Pixie/Mermaid. Violet is a Wood Nymph/Vamp. Claire is a Dryad/Fairy.

Charlotte from Pretty Dead is a Mermaid. Emily is a Brownie. Thanks for this question!

I know you've written a book of poetry about an ex-lover, and obviously all fiction writers draw on their personal lives for inspiration. But even so, was it hard to be this personal about your love life? Was the experience of writing this book different from writing others? In a way, in spite of its prescriptive format, I felt like it contained peeks at what a more straightforward memoir might look like. Have you ever considered writing one?

I feel comfortable revealing my truths through my writing because I have the protection of lyrical language and literary structure. In other words, if I reveal something personal in a way that has some beauty and order I gain perspective on it and distance from it. I also consider the fact that my truth may help someone else. I have written a memoir about my first year as a mom called Guarding The Moon and I'd consider doing another.

You clearly know your way around heartbreak — How do you deal with breakups? Any recommended methods of coping, favorite music, etc?

Lately it has been about continuing to go out and meet new people, doing a lot of yoga, relying on my friends and writing about it. I can't listen to music when my heart hurts, unless it hurts with the joy of first love and then I can listen to sad music and cry easily. I like "Breathe Me' by Sia for a good cry. Also "Morning Yearning" by Ben Harper.,"Mad World" by Gary Jules., Michael Franti's "Hey World."'I like Frightened Rabbit's "Floating in the Forth," "Ava" by the National, "Nothing Compares 2U-Sinead O'Connor, "Thank You,," Alanis Morissette and "Love Should" by Moby.

What's your take on a Mer-Shee/ Centaur pairing? Just um randomly curious.

Just randomly, huh? He'll think she is sexy and admire her power but he might be intimidated by her unless he's found his own success through his art. She should try to tone down her ego and work on expressing love. support and compassion to the females in her life, as much as the males because it will be a way for her to find love and compassion for herself and be more ready for a healthy relationship with this attractive but sometimes difficult type. Good luck.

Wood Nymph Seeks Centaur: A Mythological Dating Guide [Amazon]

Earlier: Weetzie Bat: The Book For Girls Who Ended Up Taking A Gay Dude To Prom
F Is For Francesca, And I Wish I Were Her

Maybe it's the Italianate origin, or the three flowing syllables, but something about the name Francesca makes me think of the new girl who shows up in class and immediately has everybody transfixed with envy, love, and lust. She's not conventionally popular, because she just transferred from a different school — possibly abroad — and she doesn't have a clique. She's nice to everyone, boys and girls alike, but there's something mysterious about her, maybe a little unknowable. She has friends in different countries, makes her own clothes, and listens to cool music you never heard before, but she isn't at all snobby about any of this stuff. Even though she's sweet, boys are a little afraid to ask her out. In high school and even beyond, she was the kind of girl I wanted to be, but never could — because Francescas are born, not made.

The name has a number of variants, all of them less hot. Frances, despite Frances Bean, always makes me think of a bureaucrat handing me forms to fill out. Fran's nasal sound is only intensified by the, um, nasal sound of Fran Drescher. Frankie's kind of cute, and has the added bonus of being the name of the main character in The Member of the Wedding. But if Frankie has bestowed this moniker on herself, it's just one of those annoying boy-girl names. Without a doubt, the name Francesca outshines its relatives the same way Francesca makes all the other girls at school look just a little bit ordinary.

Maybe part of Francesca's appeal is its rarity. It enjoyed a big rise from the sixties to the nineties, but it only ever reached as high as #385 in the list of most popular girls' names, and by 2008 it had dropped to #491. If you're a Francesca, it's pretty likely you don't know another one. Not too many celebs have the name either. One of the the biggest names on Wikipedia's list is Francesca Lia Block (that's her under the bed canopy), author of the Weetzie Bat books. Another is Francesca Annis, Ralph Fiennes ex-partner. They met when she was playing Gertrude to his Hamlet, just the kind of slightly twisted story that gives Francescas their allure.

Francesca apparently means "free," which is pretty apt. Francescas are free from the associations that dog more common names. And in my mind, they're also free from the cliques and conventions that made us normal girls at school so, well, normal. If you're a Francesca, well, I'm jealous.

Francesca [Wikipedia]
Francesca [Baby Name Wizard]

"My publisher brushed it off at first, but now it's starting to look really serious."

Baby Be-Bop, about the struggles of a gay teenager, was published in 1997. The Christian Civil Liberties Union is suing the library in West Bend, Wisconsin for "damaging" the "mental and emotional well-being" of people by displaying Baby Be-Bop. The CCLU would like the book classified as hate speech, since it contains the word "nigger."

The novel, Block says, is "very sweet, simple, coming-of-age story about a young man's discovery that he's gay." As for the controversial language?

"Obviously I use those words, including 'faggot,' which is also in the book, to expose racism and homophobia, not promote it," she said. "It's a tiny little book," she added, "but they want to burn it like a witch."

There is obvious irony in the fact that a book about someone who is beaten up by gay-bashers and isn't accepted is being targeted, bashed — and possibly publicly burned — because a select few find it unacceptable. Even stranger: Can't the CCLU see that they're actually giving loads of free publicity to an amazing author and a well-loved book?

Additionally, what is the difference between "protecting" children and sheltering them? Can a child be protected from knowledge? How does reading about a gay teenager or seeing the word "nigger" in print, in the context of a story, harm a child?

Meanwhile, Block has some perspective:

"I'd like to show my support for the librarians with any statement I can make. They're the unsung heroes in our society. My brother works on a hotline for gay youth and every night he's talking people down from suicide because they're gay and they're not accepted by the communities they're in."

A Teen Book Burns At The Stake [Salon]
Earlier: "Explicitly Vulgar, Racial, And Anti-Christian"

Roiphe may be a little off-base with her claim that "until recently, the young-adult fiction section at your local bookstore was a sea of nubile midriffs set against pink and turquoise backgrounds" — when I was in middle school in the 90s, there was definitely a series of YA books about terminally ill kids. And in Francesca Lia Block's now-embattled 1997 novel Baby Be-Bop, the main character is beaten by a gang of gay-bashers. But Roiphe is correct that many recent bestsellers deal with sorrow, suffering, and terror: there's Wintergirls, about a girl's gruesome battle with anorexia and cutting; If I Stay, in which a girl must decide whether to live or die after a car crash kills her parents; and Hunger Games, about a reality-show-cum-battle-royal in which only one teen will survive. Are these books shock lit, designed to sell copies through misery and gore? On the contrary, says Roiphe, their popularity just speaks to how difficult it is to be an adolescent. She writes,

[T]he extreme and unsettling situations chronicled in these books are, for many teenagers, accurate and realistic depictions of their inner lives. Your whole family may not have died in a car wreck, but it sometimes feels like they have. Everyone in the school cafeteria may not be plotting to kill you with bows and arrows, or knives, or mutant killer insects, but it feels like they are. In the theater of adolescence, with all the sturm and drang of separating from parents, with the total stress of just having to be yourself in the hallway at school, perhaps these books feel, at times, like a true and reasonable representation of daily life.

I once got to a talk by a linguist with who was developing a program to teach reading in inner-city schools. He said a big problem with the stories kids were assigned was that they were too happy — they didn't reflect any of the difficulties the kids actually faced in their lives. The idea that kids and teenagers always need to be protected or distracted from the hard things in life — or that, as Baby Be-Bop's detractors seem to think, keeping books out of kids' hands will keep them in the dark about sexuality, prejudice, and violence — is a false one. Children understand, from a pretty young age, that life can suck, and literature that acknowledges and comments on this is going to speak to them a lot more clearly than fluff about birthday parties and shopping.

Of today's popular YA books, Roiphe writes, "these investigations of personal disaster are much less depressing than the Gossip Girl knockoffs which initially seem frolicky and fun but are actually creepy and morally bereft and leave you feeling utterly hopeless." It sound harsh — and there's nothing wrong with a little escapism from time to time — but characters dealing with difficult circumstances are actually a lot more hopeful and inspiring than characters who never have to deal with anything.

It Was, Like, All Dark and Stormy [Washington Post]

Welcome to 'Fine Lines', the Friday feature in which we give a sentimental, sometimes-critical, far more wrinkled look at the children's and YA books we loved in our youth. Today, YA author, former Gawker editor and 'Fine Lines' guest-writer Emily Gould rereads 'Weetzie Bat', Francesca Lia Block's 1989 novel about a punk Los Angeles alternafamily.

It's the dreamy 1980s magical-realistic Los Angeles of Francesca Lia Block's Weetzie Bat series, and even if it never existed, I would like to go live there, in a world where everyone drives vintage cars and lives in a "cottage with one of those fairy-tale roofs that look like someone has spilled silly sand" with "roses and lemon trees in the garden."

In the Weetzie Bat books, the jacaranda is always in bloom, and every character is forever going to the beach to drink pink champagne and eat something with avocados in it. Also, the books are about a teenage girl with a bleached-blond flat top named Weetzie who lives with her gay best friend Dirk and his boyfriend Duck, who sleep with her so she can have a baby named Cherokee because the love of her life, whose name is My Secret Agent Lover man, doesn't want a child, but everything works out okay and they end up all raising the baby together. Can you believe that, in 1989, someone had the audacity to publish Weetzie Bat as a book for teengagers?

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Before we start unraveling the story of Weetzie, let's meet her creator, Francesca. I remember staring at her author photo on the jacket of my first Weetzie book - a gift from my own personal Dirk, fittingly - and wondering what on earth was going on with this witchy lady?

She wasn't beautiful, at least, not in any traditional sense of the word. She had a long nose and a long, skinny face with maybe a little bit too much makeup on it. But the come-hither look in her eyes and her gauzy shirt - wait, could you even sort of see her nipples? - made a big impact on teen me. This was clearly a lady who knew what she was talking about when she described "a kiss about apple pie a la mode with the vanilla creaminess melting in the pie heat." She had probably spent her teenage years in the coolest clubs, "sitting next to the dj booth watching the Lanka girls in spandy-wear dancing around."

Rereading some of these pie a la mode descriptions now, they seem a little bit over the top and hard to take seriously, but those were different times, weren't they? Tori Amos was on the radio and those Neil Gaiman Death comic books were in everyone's backpack. For some people, the early 90s were about torn jeans with waffle-knit thermals underneath and flannel, but for a subset of girls, they were also about lace arm-warmers and curlicues of eyeliner drawn halfway down the cheek. There was something frilly and poetic going on, something ... sentimental? Because, as much as Weetzie Bat was about getting drunk at a gig and making out with a guy who smelled like "leather and beer," they were also unabashedly about love. Soulmate love that lasts forever because that's what you wished for (while rubbing a golden lamp, no less!). Weetzie Bat was a fairy tale for the kind of girl who wanted to be too tough for fairies but maybe still had a few blown-glass figurines of them somewhere in her room.

Sassy magazine (of course!) loved the books, calling Block's voice "minimalist yet poetic," but rereading them now, that 'minimalism' is only thing about them that sometimes bothers me. Major revelations and plot points whiz by in a haze of jacaranda blossoms and sunlight, like when Dirk tells Weetzie he's gay and she says, "It doesn't matter one bit, honey-honey."

But that breeziness is also Block's greatest strength: of an early bad-news sexual experience of Weetzie's, she writes only, "she kept her eyes on the bare bulb until it blinded her." By the end of the 70-page book, AIDS and infidelity and suicide and childbirth have all been dispatched in this simple style - and it pretty much works.

On the last page, Weetzie and Dirk and Duck and Secret Agent Lover Man are raising the next generation of Weetzie Bat book characters - their children Cherokee Bat and her half-sister Witch Baby - and everyone is living, if not happily ever after, happily, in fairytale LA. As she surveys her complicated family, Block writes, "Weetzie's heart felt so full of love, so full, as if it could hardly fit in her chest." At thirteen, it was so comforting to read about a world where that kind of love could persist in spite of all kinds of obstacles. Fuck, it's pretty comforting now.

Weetzie Bat [Amazon]
Emily Gould [Emily Magazine]