Sam Burns's Blog, page 14

Content Warnings

One of my fellow writers pointed out to me this afternoon that I should include a content warning on my novel to indicate that there are sex scenes that are intended for people who are 18+. I thought this was an excellent idea, and assumed that other people must have been in the same situation, so I started searching the web for information on how other people note content warnings in their works.

Interestingly, what I found was a mix of often angry opinions. Many think that content and trigger warnings are either necessary or at least acceptable, and offered suggestions on things that they might warn for, and where they would put that information. A surprising number of people, though, seemed personally offended by the idea that they should offer warnings, for reasons ranging from the idea that it would spoil their content, to rants about ‘special snowflakes’ that I’m not interested in going into.

For myself right now, I’m not worried about spoiling people. Guess what? My non-sweet romance novel has sex scenes. If that offends you, I’m not sure how you navigate the treacherous waters of romance novels. So I will shout from the rooftops that there is sex in my book, and if you don’t want it or can’t legally read it, please don’t buy it when I release it.

I’ve got to say, though, that if I ever have triggering material in my books, I’d much rather warn for it than not. Being a PTSD sufferer myself, I’m all too aware of the need for trigger warnings. Some days I just can’t handle reading about certain topics. Other days I’ll read them and be fine. So someone warning me about their content gives me the choice of when to read their work and enjoy it most. It gives others a reason to avoid them altogether. Yes, avoid them, and that’s a good thing, because you don’t want your fiction to hurt people, and you don’t want them to leave a nasty review on your work because you couldn’t be bothered to say ‘warning: domestic abuse.’

I’m curious. If you disagree with content and trigger warnings, why do you think they’re a problem, and what do you say to people who want them?

Quote of the Week

If you don’t have time to read, you don’t have the time (or the tools) to write. Simple as that.

-Stephen King

Beyond the Sea by Keira Andrews

I grabbed Beyond the Sea last month for a dollar during a bookbub sale. I realize that there’s been some drama over the blurb lines, “Two straight guys. One desert island.”  Many people seem to see it as bi-erasure, and I understand why that would be a point of contention. Bi erasure is a big problem. Maybe I’m just too asexual to understand the point of view as it relates to this book, but as I read it, the characters both believed they were straight and fell in love with another man. I also didn’t even pay attention to the blurb before reading the book, so I didn’t have a chance to get offended and put it down before reading it.

The main characters are both believable and sympathetic at the beginning, and grow as people throughout the novel, which I’ve always found important in any genre. The story is well done. It covers the tropes you’d expect to find in such a novel, and some you wouldn’t. Some research obviously went into how airplanes work, and I didn’t have a moment of doubt as to the validity of the information. (I don’t know if it’s all right, but it’s well presented enough that I believed and didn’t feel a need to look it up.) Some of the most basic things that often get overlooked in stories like this were addressed – like Troy’s depression when he first starts to believe that they won’t be rescued, and the give and take between an introvert and an extrovert in such a stressful situation.

Quote of the Week

We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.

-Oscar Wilde

Camp NaNoWriMo Wrap-up

There you have it, April 2017’s Camp NaNoWriMo is over.

This April was the first time that I not only wrote more than fifty thousand words in a month, but completed a whole novel. It was an interesting feeling.

Of course, I’m not done, and nowhere near ready to publish. There’s still editing to do, by both myself and a professional editor, and my work needs a cover that I did not slap together in photoshop. I can’t even explain how much I’m looking forward to those things, for real. But the sixty-five thousand word manuscript is a step in the right direction.

Now, all I have to do is write again tomorrow, on the new manuscript I’ve started. And the next day. And the one after that.

I’d say that the life of a writer is hard, and it certainly has its hard moments, but really? This month has reminded me of something I occasionally forget: I love to write.

 

Olive Juice by T.J. Klune

I think T.J. Klune dislikes me for some reason. I decided this after reading his recent novella, Olive Juice, because there is no other reason a person would want to make me cry as much as he seems to. I’m not talking like one perfect angsty man-tear here either, I’m talking the full waterworks, nose blowing and all.

I won’t rehash the blurb or premise, I’ll just say that if you like anything else by him, you should read it. I was underwhelmed by the premise, but that’s because in order to avoid giving too much away, it’s not well explained. Since I’ve read enough Klune to trust him I picked it up anyway, and I was not at all disappointed.

This is one of those conundrums we’re taught to avoid by college creative writing professors. Never surprise us, they say. You’ll alienate readers, and no one likes to be lied to. And they’re right. Except that they’re also wrong.

Because unlike the writers of Dallas trying to fix enormous mistakes in their previous season, T.J. is up front about the fact that he’s lying to us. He feeds us tidbits of the truth one at a time, like handing us single pieces of the puzzle until we can put together enough to see what he’s made. Different readers will take different amounts of time to figure out what the picture is, but the reveal is satisfying whether you figured out what the picture was beforehand or not.

As I read fiction for escape from dreary reality, I tend to avoid anything that looks like it’s going to make me cry. T.J. is one of those rare authors who can write that tear-jerker, and make me want to pick up the book anyway.