Warning: Content Warnings aren’t for Everyone

Do you read the content warnings for books?

    “Everything is a trigger!” a fellow writer says, as we discuss our obligation alongside the value of providing content notes for readers.  

    It’s impossible to flag every sentence, scene, or subtext that that serves as a negative trigger.  Afterall, one’s definition depends on their individual lived experiences. Consider triggers like buried mines set off with the lightest touch, or trampled on without exploding.

    Every day, I find something that sparks a smile or ignites rage. For example, I’m in awe at the tiny vivid green hummingbird that pauses, drinking at the feeder. A dear friend calls when I need a laugh. But later I cringe at the vulgarities spewing from a stranger’s mouth while I’m waiting in line at the grocery store. A still lifeless bird I find on my walk makes me cry. It’s life with terrific days and terrible times.

    But in my reading life, albeit fiction or nonfiction, I crave control. Perhaps it’s too simple an analogy but if I have a severe allergic reaction to shellfish, I am careful to avoid being exposed to shellfish.       

    I think authors have a responsibility to respect their readers. My writer friend alerts his colleagues when his pages include violence, racism, prostitution, sexual content, and gruesome guerilla fights. This novel takes place after the Civil War.  

    Throughout the novel, his protagonist seeks to avenge her father’s death, leaving a trail of dead bodies wherever she goes. Is she loveable? No. Yet, I root for her and hoping she makes better choices for her future. Is she remorseful for her actions? Ultimately, the reader decides.   

   In my writing, a colleague pointed out how alcohol plays an integral role in my fictional story. How easily alcohol serves as a plot device, character flaw, and motivation. In my novella, Anti-Italian sentiment and small town bias are major themes alongside minor incidents of bullying and absentee parenting. And I haven’t finished this story yet.  

    My advice for writers: First, don’t shy away from tackling tough topics. Second, don’t rely on shallow stereotypes that desensitize human conditions. Finally, there is value in disclosing content notes as a regular practice to help readers consume and engage with the story. I appreciate author’s notes that tell me to this story delves into grief because this lets me gauge if this book’s for me, right now.  

    I support skipping the hard sections, or not finishing a book rather than slogging through the pages that neither inform nor entertain me. Sometimes, it’s important to grant myself a grace period if I am in a healing or recovery mode.

    Unlike a decade ago, it’s easy to research a book before borrowing or buying it. Besides my bookish friends recommendations, I rely on The Storygraph, a book tracking database and social site whose features include a content warning section. Database users can choose from nearly 100 disagreeable subject material ranging from abandonment to xenophobia and label it as graphic, moderate, or mild.

    Yes, The Storygraph community takes its content warnings seriously. Most times, reviewing this section is not a deterrent for me. I crave the control and the challenge that my reading life offers.