Discovering YA Fiction: First Impressions

I just finished my first ever young adult fiction novel, David Arnold’s I Loved You in Another Life. I’m still figuring out what to make of it. I certainly enjoyed the reading experience: warm, sentimental, at times moving, and certainly instructive about a slice of American teenage life. 

American teen culture on display
One thing I came away with was how much teenage life in this novel revolves around pizza and Hollywood blockbusters. They seem to form a kind of shared cultural shorthand, the only unifying touchstones that all characters recognise and accept. To be fair, there are moments of cultural depth too: references to Emily Dickinson, music (especially Shosh’s connection to performance), and the occasional philosophical thought. But the overall vibe? A social world stitched together more by shared fast food and big commercial movies than by art or literature. 

Alcohol, distance, and anchors
Alcohol quietly threads through the background. It’s present but not glamorised, a social lubricant for some characters and an emotional crutch for others. Who drinks, why, and how much feels telling: teens experimenting, adults numbing their own grief.

The emotional lives of parents are equally complex. A result of the sister of one the main character's death, her parents retreat into their own worlds, creating a distance that hollows out family life. The result is a teenager unmoored. At least an old teacher steps in as a steady, affirming adult presence. That teacher’s quiet anchoring force becomes one of the most hopeful aspects of the novel. It’s a reminder that small moments of affirmation can outweigh monumental family failures.

Wealth and surfaces
This is also an affluent world: houses with pools, multiple cars, takeaway pizzas, and financial security for most. It isn’t played as satire; rather, it’s just background noise — the accepted norm. But it colours the emotional stakes: grief and alienation are framed by comfort, and running away doesn’t mean running into poverty, just a different kind of privilege elsewhere. Getting accepted into uni or college runs through much of the novel.

Structure: Islands connected by ferries, not bridges
The novel’s structure surprised me. Many short chapters are titled with people’s names, but it wasn’t always clear if these were about those people or told from their point of view. For much of the novel, I felt adrift among vignettes, waiting for the centre to hold. It eventually does — around Evan and Shosh — but the journey there feels like travelling between islands linked by ferry services rather than crossing bridges. The passage of time is marked subtly by weather and clothing rather than explicit chapter headings.

Themes and takeaways
Teen friendships, grief, romantic longing, illness, and even a puppy-as-saviour (which reminded me, oddly enough, of Shakespeare’s Fortinbras, but probably no one else) all get their moment. And the ending, set many years later in another country, implies that happiness might require getting away from America — though I’m not sure if that was intentional or just how it felt to me as a reader.

Final thought
Did I love it? Yes, in parts. Did it change me? Maybe not, but it certainly reminded me that YA fiction is as much about emotional tone as narrative clarity. It’s a book of moods, connections, and moments rather than a single, linear journey. And maybe that’s why I’m still thinking about it days later.