I Have To Agree. I Write And Many Of My Works Are BASED Around The Complexity Of Human Nature And How

I have to agree. I write and many of my works are BASED around the complexity of human nature and how indecisive "right" and "wrong" are. I come from a Christian family and had considered writing Christian books, but ran into the same block. With Christian books there was this expectation for it to be perfect and clean and pure. It's simply unrealistic. I don't believe in completely good characters or completely bad characters. All of my characters have some flaw or another. I don't believe in a perfect world and the most gripping and intriguing stories I've read have been about people with demons and internal struggles of their own. Personaly, I think the ideology of a perfect character is, well, childish. The world is so complex. You can't put people in categories of "good" and "bad". Maybe a few, but the majority is in the smudgy grey area in between. And those are the ones I'm most interested in. How they think, how they act, how would they react in this situation? You don't know because they're not automatically going to do what's "right" or what's "wrong". They have their own ideals, instincts, and impulses. That's what makes us human and that's beautiful and interesting and I'll never stop being amazed by how complex people are as a whole.

I’m really nervous to write about this but

When I was younger, I read a lot of Christian books. In high school, I wrote a paper on Christian literature, specifically, what it is about Christian literature that makes it often flatter and less compelling than other genres. I’m not saying it all sucks, but I am saying that somehow, I’ve noticed through my life that Christian books suck more than their secular counterparts on average. I found them to often be juvenile, one-dimensional and derivative, and I didn’t think it had to be that way. I didn’t think that being Christian made a book bad, but I observed that the genre was stuffed with a lot of bad books, and the bad books were far worse than bad books outside the category. 

I’m not intending to start a discussion about Christian literature; I’m not alone in feeling this way or noticing this phenomenon if you believe it’s a thing. Online, you can read a lot of articles discussing the same thing: that Christian lit tends to be lower quality. So I wanted to know why. 

To answer the question, I looked at interviews of Christian authors and submission guidelines for Christian publishers. I wished to understand the intent behind writings in the genre and what might lead to the difference in quality. And what I found was very illuminating. 

Essentially, many Christian authors and publishers feel that: 

1. their books have a responsibility to promote morality in their readers, and authors are somewhat responsible for the moral fiber of their readers  

2. there has to be a strong delineation between “moral” and “immoral” behavior in books 

3. many topics either can’t be addressed at all or must be very clearly pointed out as “bad” if they are 

4. certain topics and ideas ought to be brought up in a book and pointed out as good as part of the purpose or meaning of the book

The conclusion I came to was that these ideas were resulting in flat, one-dimensional characters and dull plots. The responsibility of promoting moral integrity, and having to make absolutely sure that nothing you write could condone or promote immoral behavior, was of paramount importance. 

And what that caused was preachiness, one-dimensionality, a lack of compelling moral conflict, flat characters, and intellectually numbing stories. 

Why am I talking about this? 

Because a lot of the ideas I’ve been seeing spread around in writeblr and in the online writing and reading communities as a whole are identical. 

A lot of the posts I see online now about writing are almost exact echoes of the ideas I wrote about in my paper. 

Nowadays, I see posts constantly urging people to think about why they want to write their stories, and whether they are good or helpful or edifying. I see authors being slammed for not condemning characters with disgusting beliefs hard enough. I see people being dragged for liking characters that are not morally and ideologically pure. I see posts telling people to approach any difficult topic with extreme caution and crisp, unmistakable condemnation. Media is widely vilified when its fandom becomes toxic or nasty, assumed to be at fault for the moral fiber of its fans.

I see authors and publishers advertising their books as “feminist”, as if that makes any sense at all (is the author feminist? Does it just handle female characters well? Are the characters feminist? Is it focused on women’s issues?). I open a book and see poorly-integrated lines of dialogue dropping ideas about prejudice or gender that seem like a Tumblr post or part from a nonfiction book on racism inserted directly into a character’s mouth. I don’t think feminism is bad. I think feminism is great. And I don’t think talking about prejudice or gender is bad. I think these things need to be talked about. I definitely don’t think these ideas can’t be expressed in fiction. On the contrary; I think fiction is one of the best ways of expressing important ideas. 

But, I see some kind of preoccupation with the ideas your writing promotes, prominently including the idea that you must promote and you must condemn certain ideas, and that everything you write makes a statement about morality, and you’re responsible for edifying your audience and making them better people. And it’s really, really familiar. 

The conclusion that my paper came to is that you can’t clean up the reality of humanity. You can’t make the messiness of existence crisp and clear so you can feed your readers the ideas you want them to absorb bite by bite. You can’t have light without darkness, and you can’t have either without shades of gray. 

In life, racist people will not always be obviously horrible. (Even though sometimes they are…) Sometimes they will be people who love their spouses and kids and are generally “nice” and adopt dogs and love kittens, and they will still be racist. Sometimes even “good” people will say or do racist things and have to realize their mistakes and then make mistakes again and have to realize THOSE mistakes. Sometimes getting out of ideas you grew up hearing is long and difficult and you have to catch your brain repeating them even years after you tried to change. Racism can be passive, subtle, it can exist in people who are “good” in some ways. Sometimes people make progress toward changing but still have problems. How do we show this in books? Is it an author’s responsibility to solve all this and sort out everything? 

Is it racist for a racist character who is seeking redemption  to not have entirely overcome their prejudices by the end of a book? Is it the author’s responsibility to make sure racist behavior in the book is clearly labeled? Is it a reflection of the author’s views if a character says something racist? 

Note that I’m asking these questions. I’m definitely open to and would like perspectives from other people on this, people of color foremost and especially. The idea I am exploring is, does giving an author the responsibility of making sure their book clearly and unequivocally promotes certain ideas and condemns others impair them? Could it make it more difficult to address the ideas they want to? 

When I analyzed Christian literature, the conclusion I had to reach was that it does. I found christian lit as a whole to be excessively black-and-white, simplistic, shy of tackling anything with complexity, and almost dishonest about human nature. Is there an analogy in this situation? 

In life, relationships aren’t always pure and unproblematic. People don’t fall neatly into “people who have never done anything to hurt their partner” and abusers. People can sometimes have problems in their relationships and have to change their behaviors to preserve their relationships. Relationships have difficulties and arguments. Sometimes a person needs to change or become better in order to have a healthy relationship. Sometimes a relationship can be unhealthy without being abusive, and sometimes relationships are abusive. Must the author draw lines about “toxicity” and “problematicness” in super clear neon spray paint so people know the difference? 

These arguments come up about all sorts of morality-related things in books. And on some level I agree, you shouldn’t promote racism, and you should be careful and sensitive about portraying some things, but I am also extremely apprehensive about certain aspects of this culture that has sprung up. 

It’s really almost totally identical to what I noticed about Christian literature, and imo there it has done a lot of damage. I don’t really believe that authors are totally past being responsible for damage their ideas do, quite the opposite. But there is this expectation of dictating what’s bad and what’s good on a very clear level. 

That was part of the problem i noticed in Christian literature, the teaching of ideas rather than forcing readers to consider them. 

I’m not trying to talk over anybody at all, esp with things about racism, I’m white after all. And I really urge and ask my white followers and people-who-see-this-post to listen to the opinions, ideas and feelings of people of color who reply on the topic of racism. What I really want is everybody to consider this: is it an author’s job to make sure all “bad” and “good” things in their book are clearly delineated? If not, what is the best practice for an author? If not, might this cause problems? The culture I am seeing in the writeblr community seems to hold that it is, and rejection of redemption for villains, morally ambiguous situations and characters, addressing of complicated topics, and portraying anything “bad” without making absolutely certain that it’s clearly wrong is growing. 

Personally, I have a bad feeling about it. 

Thoughts? 

His mother interrupts, “Speaking of which, Jr, go take a shower and change. You’re disgusting and you’re getting filth all over my couch…” Jr gets up immediately, “Sorry… Come on…” You blink, “You’re going to take a SHOWER. I’m NOT coming with you.” Jr rolls his eyes, “You can hang in my room 'til I get out, just come on…” You glare. He frowns, “Please…” You sigh and get up, “Fine. But if you walk out naked, or with a towel on, or without a shirt-” He laughs, “I get it! I’m not…” He heads down the hall. You follow, “Where is your room?” He slips in a door, “Right here.” You stop, blinking. You’re not sure WHAT you had been expecting, but it’s definitely not this… His room is…. Not much bigger than yours…. There’s a bed, a dresser, and a closet. There’s not even a bedside table or a lamp. Admittedly, the bed itself is nice. It’s a good size, with thick covers and soft pillows, but even that isn’t as expensive as you would have thought it would be. Nothing in here is even name brand. You always figured all rich people had name brand EVERYTHING… You frown, “Where’s the built in bathroom? Aren’t you supposed to, like, have one connected to every room or something?” Jr laughs, “What? No. Why would I need my own bathroom?” You look at him, “I… Don’t know… Because your…. Rich?...” Jr laughs again, “Just because my parents are rich doesn’t mean they’ve doused me with lavish everything…” He goes to the dresser and starts pulling out clothes. You watch, “They could at least give you something better than an old, wore out jacket…” He turns and glares, “If I WANTED something different I could have asked for it. I liked that jacket.” You lift your hands in surrender, “Sorry for mentioning it… Grab your clothes so you don’t have an excuse to come back in here naked…” Jr smirks at that and finishes pulling out his pants and underwear. You find yourself looking away. You hear him open his closet door and some ruckus as he jerks a shirt off a hanger, then he walks over to you. You look at him. He pauses, “You can go in you know… Make yourself comfy. I don’t mind if you sit on my bed. There’s really no where else to sit anyway…” And with that, he’s gone. You stare after him. Why is he suddenly being so nice? Is it because he’s in familiar territory, or did that enclosure change him? You shrug to yourself and go to his bed. Guess now all there is to do is wait…

Jr glares, “Look down there! Tell me what you see! Where is ALL that food going then?!” “How do you know this? Who told you about this?” Jr swallows and looks away, then looks back, “I had a friend… He was a changeling. He got put in there, but he used to sneak letters out to me...” Your heart speeds up a little, “Used to?” He nods, looking bitter, “They found out. I had got to where I came up here often. I watched it happen…” Your heart jumps to your throat and you barely get out, “Watched what happen?” He points, “They dragged him to the edge of the city. Shot him in the head. They just left him there for the clean up crew to pick up…” You turn your head away. There's so much to process… You look back at him, “I don’t understand. Why would they be MEAN to them? I understand containing them, but it just doesn’t seem realistic that they’d just torture an entire species unnecessarily…” Jr shrugs in defeat, “It’s easier to control a broken people, rather than a thriving nation. If they were strong, they could break out. Better to beat them down and starve them and let them die…” Tears prick at your eyes and you turn away quickly, looking back out, “But there are children out there…” Jr snorts, “Baby monsters you mean? Well, I mean, I’m sure at least half are werewolves. The rest are changelings, mimics, anything that can transform into a wolf. Even if they’re in full control while changed. Even if the moon doesn’t affect them. If any wolf DNA is in you, you’re classified a monster.” You blink away your tears. You will NOT cry in front of Jr. Though this IS horrible. You wish there was some way you could help them. But you know storming around yelling at people isn’t going to change anything. You have no powers to speak of. You’re probably the closest to human that exists. You don’t even have super speed, one of the most basic powers out there, that almost everyone has.You wouldn’t stand a chance against anyone. You’d just end up in jail, stuck, or dead, and then REALLY not stand a chance… Helplessness wells up in you and you lean over the wall, trying to distract yourself. You look for anything interesting. Livestock, trees, anything that's not the people. You can feel Jr's intense stare burning into you. You refuse to look at him. Suddenly a strong gust of wind sweeps by and you scream as it knocks you off balance. You topple over the wall, limbs flailing. “NO!!!” Your desperate wail is snatched away by the wind…

You’re forced, struggling, to your knees. Jr is wrestled out of the net. He bolts for the door, but is grabbed instantly. The guards slam him to the ground and you scream. Two collars are brought out and you shiver. Although you know you aren’t a werewolf, the collar is still scary. You look over at Jr. He’s struggling to get back, away from the collar, but two guards hold him still. The man snaps the collar on you. The cold metal sits heavy on your neck, giving you chills. You watch the man, waiting for something, anything. Finally, he smiles, “See? That wasn’t so bad. You’re good to go.” He takes the collar off and your focus instantly goes to Jr. A guard is wrestling a collar on him. As soon as it snaps closed he wails and thrashes. You scream and fight towards him. He writhes, struggling to wrench it off, but it’s hard when his skin is rippling and twisting. You cover your mouth as he arches his back, blood flecking his mouth. You gasp, “You’re killing him! Stop!” Jr gives a last wail and rips violently into a wolf, shuddering and shaking. You freeze, staring. He’s beautiful. Big and almost golden. His fur is long and thick, rippling with every move he makes. His eyes are still the same though, blue and very, very human. He stares at you, crouched on the floor, shivering, and whimpers. You can only stare. It’s hard to decide whether to be terrified, like you’ve been taught to be all your life, or mesmerized. Because he is very VERY definitely in control. But that doesn’t make sense. Werewolves are monsters. They CAN’T be in control. They become violent, hungry animals when they turn… The guards step forward and Jr snarls, his appearance instantly changing. His fur bristles along his back, making him look much bigger, and his lips jerk back, revealing his teeth and gums, mouth hanging open threateningly. It’s a truly terrifying sight, and you just stare as they struggle to get close to him. He snarls and snaps, not hurting anyone, but scaring them enough to back off. Once it’s decided that it’s too dangerous to come close, they retreat, grabbing guns. You instantly fight, “Wait! Don’t kill him! DON’T KILL HIM!” They raise their weapons and you scream desperately, fighting with everything you have against the guards holding you, but they fire anyway. A dozen darts strike him and he jerks back, snarling and barking wildly. You don’t know whether to scream some more, because they’re HURTING HIM, or be relieved that those weren’t real bullets. Jr stumbles and falls, eyes rolling back. You shiver, whimpering. A man looks at you, “What is she still doing here?” The guards blink, surprised, and he snaps, “Get her out! She’s been traumatized enough!” The guards scramble and grab you. You struggle a little, “Jr….” “That’s not your friend ma’am… That’s a monster…” Tears spill down your cheeks. He’s not a monster. He’s a person… You two weren’t really close, but you were JUST starting to become friends… You don’t want to leave him… But you’re not strong. You’re not fast. You have no special power. Nothing you can pull out of thin air to solve the problem. You’re dragged out of the tower, down to a car. They put you in the back and you curl up, “He’s not a monster! He’s my friend! He wouldn’t-” Your voice breaks. Would he? Honestly… You don’t know. Maybe not while human. But even as a wolf he seemed so…. Human…. But that could just be your judgement too… You don’t know what to think anymore… You rest your forehead on your knees. You need time to think. You need to tell his brother, warn him… ‘But if he’s a wolf… Doesn’t he need to be seperated? He’s dangerous….’ You hug your legs tighter. Why does life have to be so complicated?

You sit on his bed and stare around his room. It’s so simple it’s almost sad. The only thing that decorates it is a picture on his dresser. It’s a picture of him and his brother. He has an arm slung over his shoulder and is laughing. His brother is smiling, cheeks red. He looks like he wants to hide, though he also looks happy. You smile. They both look happy. The door opening makes you jump. You look at the door and are surprised to find Jr there, fully dressed… You smirk, “Wow, you actually came dressed!” He smirks back, “I mean, I could go do it again and come back naked. I wouldn’t mind…” You throw a pillow at him, “I will LEAVE.” He grins and comes over, climbing on the bed. You scoot back to give him room. He sits cross legged, “Ok. Ask.” You nod, “How long have you been a werewolf?” “I was born one.” You frown, “But your brother said you were bit…” Jr snorted, “Well he’s a little liar.” You frown, “Oh. Well then, why isn’t HE a werewolf? Ya’ll are related…” Jr shrugs, “The werewolf bloodline isn’t indefinite. Not everyone is born a werewolf just cuz their parents are. Besides, my mom’s not a werewolf, so our blood's not even pure…” You nod, “So your dad’s the werewolf? Was he born one?” Jr shakes his head, “No. He was bit.” You nod, “Do you turn by the full moon?” Once again, he shakes his head, “No. Well yes, but we can learn not to. I don’t. Neither does my father.” You nod again, “Ok. Have you ever bit anyone?” Jr rolls his eyes, “NO. I’m not a monster…” You lift your hands, “Ok, I was just wondering. Has your dad?” “No!” Jr glares. You scoot a little further back. Jr presses his lips together and glares at you. You say, “Have you always had such a bad temper?” You know you’re just feeding the fire, but you can’t stop it from coming out. Much to your surprise, Jr laughs, “Yes. Since I was a baby.” You say, “Why do you always act like such a jerk?” Jr shrugs, “Because I can? Nothing’s gonna happen to me. Besides, the world's fucked with me enough. I think I have a bit of a right…” You glare, “No one has a right. You get what you get. Being mean isn’t going to change that.” He flashes a grin, “Keep telling yourself that baby girl.” You glare, “Don’t call me that.” Jr smirks, “Or what?” “Or I’ll slap you,” you bite out. Jr shrugs, “Whatever. Do you have any more questions?” You glare. And here you were, thinking he was starting to be nice… You should have known better. He’ll always be the same jerk you found on the streets. You say, “Yeah. How do you stand your mom?” Jr laughs again, “Barely. She’s where I get it from, haven’t you noticed?” You snap, “You say that like it’s not a bad thing! You shouldn’t be MEAN to people! Why is it SO HARD to be nice to people?” Jr crosses his arms, “PEOPLE AREN’T NICE. Why am I required to be nice to people who are just going to turn around and call me a monster?!” He bites his cheek, looking away. Ha. Got him. You watch him, “That touched a nerve a little bit.” Jr glares at you, “Are you done?” You nod, “Yeah. I am.” “Then get out.” You get up and walk out. He stays seated, not even watching you leave the room. Your heart is hammering wildly for some reason. You don’t know whether you’re terrified or excited… His parents watch you as you exit the house. As soon as you’re out you run for town. You have the urge to laugh, but you also kind of want to cry. You’re not sure whether to be excited that you finally got SOMETHING real from him, or sad that he has to have such a difficult life…

A week. You don’t see Jr or his brother for a week. You’re feeling like you’re about to lose your mind when you finally see him. Sam is walking to school, practically glowing. You run up to him, “Hey! You’re finally back! I thought I was gonna die of boredom!” He laughs and shrugs, grinning shyly. You can’t help but laugh at that, he’s so shy. It’s sweet. Then you notice a bruise on his neck. It disappears under his shirt collar. You frown, “What’s that?” He reaches up self consciously and rubs it, then, realizing what it is, covers it, “Nothing. Don’t worry about it…” You frown, “Don’t worry about it? You’re bruised… Did…” You lower your voice, “Did your mom hit you?” You know his mom is fiery, and very possibly capable of hitting her sons…. The bruise looked pretty bad, from what you saw. It was very dark. Sam shakes his head quickly, “N-no! It’s…. Nothing…. I said don’t worry about it….” You frown deeper, “I can’t just not worry about it. I’m your friend. Is someone hurting you?” He snorts. It almost seems like…. A laugh? But he composes himself quickly, “I said I’m fine. Stop worrying.” You glare, “I just said I won’t! And why are you laughing at me?!” He shrugs, “You’re just cute when you’re mad…” You groan, “You’re just like Jr! How did I ever think you were nice?! Why do I even hang out with you?! You’re such a brat!” This manages to break a grin from him. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him grin. He’s always so shy. But he seems to be in a very good mood today… Duh. He just got his brother back from Werewolf Hell…. You glare, “You have nothing to say to that? No defence? No snarky comment?” He shrugs, “I’ve never once claimed not to be a brat. Come on. We’re late for school.” You glare, “Oh really? So that matters now? You’re dodging the conversation.” He nods, “I am,” and walks past, heading for school. You hurry after him, cursing quietly under your breath. Why do your friends have to be the full of themselves, snobby, brats? Why can’t you just have NORMAL friends? You sigh. You’ve pretty much resigned yourself to your fate… There’s no escaping it, so you might as well get used to it…