Teen problem novels? I can go through them like a box of

When Tamora Pierce declared, “Teen problem novels? I can go through them like a box of chocolates. And there are fantasy books out now that need a lot more editing. Fantasy got to be so popular that people began to think 'We don't need to be as diligent with the razor blade,' but they do,” she spoke with the insight of a seasoned storyteller. Her words remind us that while stories may entertain, they also carry the sacred duty of craftsmanship. To Pierce, the joy of reading is like sweetness savored, but she warns that even delight must be tempered by discipline. For when a genre grows popular, there is danger that it will grow careless, bloated with indulgence, and lose its power to move the heart.

The origin of her wisdom lies in her long career writing beloved works of young adult fantasy. Pierce knew both the pleasures of teen novels that reflected the struggles of youth and the soaring possibilities of fantasy that opened doorways into other worlds. Yet she also knew the danger of complacency—of assuming that because readers are hungry, writers need not sharpen their words. She invokes the razor blade, that ancient tool of the craftsman, to symbolize the hard, often painful discipline of editing: trimming excess, refining clarity, and cutting away all that weakens the strength of a tale.

History too bears testimony to this truth. Consider the works of Homer. Though born of oral tradition, his epics were refined over generations by poets who shaped them into lasting perfection. Or recall Shakespeare, whose plays endure not because of their popularity in his day alone, but because he honed them with wit, rhythm, and precision that still stirs the soul. By contrast, many once-popular works, left unrefined and hurriedly produced, have vanished into obscurity. Popularity without discipline is like a fire of straw—it burns brightly for a moment, then dies without a trace.

Pierce’s comparison to chocolates also carries meaning. Some books, like confections, can be consumed quickly and with pleasure, offering sweetness but not lasting nourishment. There is no harm in this, for joy and delight are worthy ends in themselves. Yet when it comes to fantasy, she insists that the genre demands more. Fantasy is not mere escape; it is a mirror of the human condition, a myth made new, a stage where courage, morality, and destiny play out in heightened form. To craft such worlds requires diligence, patience, and above all, respect for the reader’s trust.

Her words are also a warning against arrogance in creation. When popularity grows, when a genre becomes beloved, there is a temptation to assume that quality matters less than quantity. But Pierce declares that the opposite is true. Popularity demands greater vigilance, for the more people who read, the greater the responsibility of the author to honor their time and imagination. To wield the sword of fantasy without discipline is to cheapen its power; to wield it with care is to forge worlds that endure beyond the fleeting season of trend.

The lesson for us is eternal: whether in writing, in work, or in life, passion must be married to discipline. Delight is good, but it is not enough. A story, like a life, must be sharpened by reflection, edited by humility, refined by effort. Do not assume that because something is popular it is necessarily good. Instead, measure its worth by the care and craft that went into it, by the truth it speaks, and by the endurance it earns across time.

Practical counsel flows: if you are a writer, wield the razor blade without fear—cut what is weak, refine what is strong, and honor your readers with your best work. If you are a reader, enjoy the chocolates of lighter tales, but seek also the nourishment of disciplined art. And if you are a creator of any kind, remember that popularity is not permission for carelessness; it is a call to greater integrity.

Thus let Tamora Pierce’s words be passed down: delight must be sharpened by discipline, and popularity must be tempered by craft. Cherish the sweetness of stories, but honor the sacred duty of creation by wielding the razor blade. For only when joy and discipline walk hand in hand do works endure, touching not only the present generation but the countless generations yet to come.