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After I posted that rant on morality, I got an e-mail response from an execellent author, Ryan Sylander, making a very good point: it's possible that, by writing about our fantasies, that spares us the need of actually living them out. Now, video-games enthusiasts have been arguing for violent / first-person-shooter video games for the exact same reason, and there is absolutely no scientific evidence one way—or the other!—that this is true. Long story short: Your Mileage May Vary, but on a universal level, Mr. Sylander is absolutely right. We write out these crazier fantasies, ones we either aren't sure we want to try or which we simply can't (snuff, pedophilia, tentacle rape, etc). And that's all the exploration we need. But for others it may have the opposite effect: it might encourage them to try this out. That's why it's a Your-Mileage-May-Vary matter. The simple fact is, we've approaching a point where the writer can't take responsibility for The Reader's reactions to the story, because said reaction is now more dependent on The Reader, and what kind of person s/he is, than anything else. Having said that, to me this only underscores the importance of exploring your fantasies realistically. Let's say I'm going to write a story where a man rapes an 8-year-old girl. And I mean rape—force, violence, non-consent, the kind of thing he would get thrown in jail for even if it didn't involve a minor. By my own arguments, I now run the risk of encouraging some maniac in a Speedo to go out and do this exact thing. And yet I want to write the story—for some reason, the character is interesting to me. (That's actually not even remotely true; I'm kind of feeling nauseous just contemplating it. But for the sake of the argument.) I want to write this story, even though it involves things which, theoretically at least, are not to be encouraged. How do I handle that? Well, by not encouraging it. Play the trope absolutely straight. Use Applied Realism. Let the man have his fun, get his 8-year-old girl pussy—and then get arrested for it, go on trial, get turned into a plaything by his jailmates. Are you glorifying pedophilic rape? Probably not. Arguably, you should avoid vilifying it too. You should play it objectively: here are the possible benefits, here are the possible consequences. Don't delude yourself, or The Reader, to the nature of the act. Be damningly realistic. The cheating trope is another example. How many stories can we count where [Person A], emotionally neglected and sexually dissatisfied husband, meets [Person B], emotionally neglected and sexually dissatisfied woman, and sparks begin to fly? [Person B] may or may not be married already, and obviously you can switch the genders if you want. But how does this story turn out? Since it's a, you know, cheating story, A and B obviously conjugate at some point. But then what? I've only read three cheating stories in my life. Two of them ended with A's Spouse and B's Spouse falling for each other and leaving together, leaving alpha couple A and B to their newfound bliss. The last ended with a complete and total cop-out: [Person A] woke up and it was All Just A Dream. These endings were so completely unsatisfactory to me that I decided not to read cheating stories anymore. Because, evidently, for most writers, cheating stories are a way to encourage people to just live—and fuck the consequences!; consequences are for losers and morons who can't finagle their way out of a mess. That's an extremely dangerous mode of thought and I have significant reservations about the fact that it's becoming more and more widespread in modern America. We think freedom should include never having to face our own mistakes. But I digress. What actually happens when people cheat? What kind of heartbreak, what kind of anxiety, what kind of guilt flies around during those times? And why does nobody ever write a story about it?—a heartbreaking story to be sure, but one The Reader remembers, because they grow to love the protagonists despite their flaws and the pain they cause each other. Why is it always unrealistic? Why is it always... Fantasy? Because the stories where people get away with cheating—it's legitimizing the action. It's like an advertisement on TV: "I tried cheating on my spouse, and look how my life got better!" That's not what fiction is for. No, I'm serious: that's not what fiction is for. Not advertising; not brainwashing. It's about telling the truth. Even when the truth is painful. I'm not saying you can't write about bad things, or shouldn't. I'm just saying you shouldn't lie. That we, as writers, have a moral obligation not to lie. No matter how much we might want to. |