There is a difference between message-driven fiction, and fiction that leads readers to discover a message. One drives and the other…well…leads. Which would you prefer: having someone stand behind you, poking you with a cattle prod, or having someone stand in front of you, holding out a carrot big bowl of ice cream?
Both will get you moving in the right direction, but they aren’t equally good ways to motivate people. The prodding sets up a situation where life becomes unbearable and you have to move forward to get away from the irritant. The ice cream allows you to stay where you are if you really want to, but it offers you a tasty reward if you’ll do a little work.
I, being a mother, see benefits in both of these motivational methods. Sometimes a lazy child will not move no matter how wonderful the reward, so you must needs make his life miserable. As an author, though, I think prodding is never the right way to go. Is a reader going to choose a book that prods him with a lecture or a book that offers him the tasty reward of discovering some great truth for himself?
On Monday, Sarah Sawyer posted Faith in Fantasy: Part 2, in which she discussed the differences between Tolkien and Lewis. Both believed that “fantasy lent itself to the expression of spiritual truth,” Sawyer tells us. But Lewis depicted ”more distinct, overt Christian elements” than Tolkien did.
Then Mike Duran gave us The Problem with “Message-Driven” Fiction, on Tuesday.
So this stuff—the “message in fiction” deal—is once again on my mind, and I thought I’d post on it, because this is important for Christian writers but it’s also important for children’s writers.
Children’s writers, like Christian writers, seem to fall into two camps—those that want to put in blatant messages and those that don’t think we should ever deliver answers, rather we should only ask questions and let the readers find their own answers.
I have discussed Katherine Paterson’s excellent mode of preaching in fiction at length here and here. In that second post—Lessons (L)earned—the point I made six years ago is one I still believe. We can push any agenda as long as the answers are “earned” by the characters, rather than given to them by a heavy-handed author.
The problem with “message-driven” fiction is not that there is a message. Fiction needs a message unless you are trying to write mindless drivel that is on the shelf and off again in two weeks. Message is fine. The problem comes when the message drives the characters rather than letting the characters find it and decide to follow it of their own free will.
In my comment on Sarah’s site, I said:
Preaching is OK with me if it’s done well. I think if you want to preach, the characters must be looking for answers and finding those answers as the result of much labor and hardship on their part. Then when they grasp the truth the reader grasps it with them and it all feels earned. It feels like the prize at the end of a tough race.
What happens in too many Christian books, unfortunately, is that we have one surly, angry-at-God character and someone lectures him on how he needs to be saved by the blood of Christ and low and behold the surly character sees the light and is saved. Hallelujah, Amen! That kind of story doesn’t allow the reader to participate with the character in his struggle and growth.
This kind of stuff doesn’t happen in children’s books too much, because the overtly didactic books aren’t published. But if you’ve read many self-pubbed chidlren’s books or done much critiquing, you’ll know that this is a huge temptation for those who want to write and publish children’s books. Based on the manuscripts I’ve read over the years, I’d guess that for many of us, our first inclination is to write books in which an adult, or a know-it-all child tells the hero what he needs to learn.
That’s no good.
Don’t do that.
What do you think? How can we lead readers to discover the lessons we want them to learn, without making them feel like we’re jolting them with a cattle prod to make them go a certain direction?
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This post was featured in the August 2011 Carnival of Children’s Literature hosted at Great Kid Books.
I agree with you.
But writing without prodding is hard—especially because different people pick up on different things. If you hint too lightly, most readers will miss it—but if you sprinkle your message in enough to lead most readers, the readers particularly antagonistic to your message will feel prodded.
(Found you through the trackback to Mike Duran’s blog.)
Carradee´s last [type] ..How to Serialize a Novel (or Not)
I wish I’d read your post before I finished mine. I always like the way you explain how the theme must be earned. Your opening analogy is excellent — leading instead of prodding. What some seem to think is, if you can see some message you must be prodding. Rather, I think some good writers, like Lewis, show the bowl of ice cream and let readers figure out how to get it.
Rebecca LuElla Miller´s last [type] ..Thinking About “Theme”
@Carradee, thanks for taking the time to comment. (And for telling me where you came from. I enjoy Mike’s blog—he always make me think.) I agree that writing without prodding is hard. But I don’t agree that most readers will feel prodded if they disagree with the message you’re leading them to. I disagreed with Katherine Paterson’s message very much. And yet, even as I saw it and disagreed, I bawled over the story, loved the characters, and was in awe over her ability to preach so skillfully. No one feels prodded by Bridge to Terabithia, I don’t think. She simply doesn’t prod. Her characters are who they are and they say what they would say and they have to believe what they believe. She is so skillful. We are invested in her characters, we can’t help but believe what they believe…almost. Nothing is tacked on forced. She chose characters and conflicts that would perfectly deliver her message in a way that made her readers believe they were uncovering a wonderful truth. Have you ever read the book? I recommend it as a way of studying how to preach effectively in fiction.
@Becky, thanks. I agree that Lewis shows the bowl of ice cream. He never tells his what to think. He lets his characters learn lessons. And we who are identifying with his characters learn the lessons along with them.
I don’t think most folks against your message will necessarily feel prodded—just those who are particularly hypersensitive about it. Everyone has their hot buttons. Your message will push someone‘s hot button. That person may never read your story, but if they do, they’ll feel prodded, not guided.
Carradee´s last [type] ..How to Serialize a Novel (or Not)
Great post, Sally! I think you identified one of the biggest factors that determines whether a story feels “preachy” or not. Is it the author lecturing or the character growing and maturing?
What came to mind after I read this was the evolution of fairy tales. When certain translators/collectors came along, they thought it was their job to explain the “moral” rather than letting their readers interpret it from the tale, as had been done for centuries before. Perrault did this in particularly evident ways. Consider his conclusion to the story of Cinderella:
“Moral: Beauty in a woman is a rare treasure that will always be admired. Graciousness, however, is priceless and of even greater value. This is what Cinderella’s godmother gave to her when she taught her to behave like a queen. Young women, in the winning of a heart, graciousness is more important than a beautiful hairdo. It is a true gift of the fairies. Without it nothing is possible; with it, one can do anything.”
It’s easy to see the humor in something this extreme, but sometimes I see novel writers falling into a similar trap…and it disengages me from the story. In my own work, I certainly hope I’m offering ice cream rather than a cattle prod!
Sarah Sawyer´s last [type] ..Faith in Fantasy, Part 3