When I began writing novels more than twenty years ago, no one discussed “trigger warnings,” which Dictionary.com defines as “a statement at the start of a piece of writing, video, etc., alerting the reader or viewer to the fact that it contains potentially distressing material (often used to introduce a description of such content).”
That’s not to say we haven’t been exposed to such cautions for generations. Anyone who has watched a movie trailer in a theater or on TV/DVD/tape is familiar with the Motion Picture Association of America notice that precedes it, displaying the film rating and any cautions about the movie: graphic violence, sex, strong language, etc. This is a trigger warning (TW). While these were created with morality in mind—where content was or was not deemed suitable for those below a certain age—they also warned away adult viewers who didn’t want to expose themselves to images that could upset them. A growing movement has called for putting similar TWs on books, recordings, and every other form of media.
In recent months, I have participated in book signings with fellow authors who display TWs for each of their books or who put such notices on their website with directions within their book or online listings to consult their website for TWs. I haven’t followed suit, but I understand the impetus for protecting potential readers from encountering something that might cause them to relive traumatic events. Each of my books has a few one-star reviews solely because those readers—who were deeply religious—were bothered in particular by the strong language. Such people would benefit from TWs on everything they consider reading, so I get it.
The desire to have TWs on reading content has extended to the part of the publishing world I regularly interact with, namely the agents and publishers attending writing conferences. In early May 2023 at the 28th Atlanta Writers Conference of the Atlanta Writers Club, which I’ve run since launching it in 2008, something new occurred with a couple of the younger literary agents: they refused to discuss a participant’s work because they said the content or subject matter triggered them. Interestingly, two other agents of the same Millennial generation as the distressed agents awarded one of these participants a certificate for best manuscript sample, which demonstrates the intensely personal nature of consuming media: one person’s triggering event is another person’s prizewinner.
I confess to being surprised that someone with such a heightened level of sensitivity can remain in an industry where all manner of query letters and manuscripts with innumerable potential triggers come in on a daily basis. Either those agents who were distressed at the conference are being triggered constantly or there was something particularly difficult about meeting face-to-face with a writer who’d created the triggering material versus quickly deleting an email the agent found upsetting. So, I will now start advising participants to put a TW on their query letters and demanding that agents and publishers attending the conference note on their profiles the things that trigger them, so the participants can choose appropriately.
Writers can rail about freedom of speech and censorship and the ultra-sensitivity of some Millennials, who now comprise a large segment of the publishing industry as well as an ever-growing cohort of book buyers. However, this is our current reality, and you must acknowledge it if not adapt to it. Want to eschew the traditional publishing industry and do it all yourself? Go for it, but you still have to determine whether to provide TWs on your books, websites, notices at signing events, etc., because some readers will punish you with scathing reviews if you don’t.
I’m of two minds about this situation. In each of my books, there’s content that will offend or trigger someone, whether it’s due to violence, sex, strong language, or thematic elements. If I put a laundry list of TWs on my website and at the front of each of my books, that will inevitably discourage some potential buyers who would’ve ultimately found the reading experience to be fulfilling and maybe even transcendent. At every one of the 100+ book club talks I’ve done, at least one person confides that they had a difficult time getting through some parts of one of my books because of the strong emotions they felt and/or bad memories that were conjured, but they ultimately found the book to be cathartic, are gratified they read it, and have recommended it to their friends. These people probably would have passed up reading my work if confronted with a list of TWs, to spare themselves from an experience they knew would be difficult.
On the other hand, even if I do post TWs, some readers will either overlook them or see them but not have the cautions sink in and end up getting triggered. Many of us have gone to a movie or watched a show advising viewer discretion and figured “it won’t be that bad” but then were emotionally shaken during the viewing and even days later or were plagued by nightmares.
Some genres more than others seem to be at the forefront of the TW debate as book buyers come of age and make their requirements known. For example, my wife and friends who write various subgenres of romance have grappled with this for a while. While some people intentionally seek out higher “spice” levels for their reading pleasure, others want only “sweet” romances, and even those seeking maximum spice might get triggered if the book also includes sexual assault or other forms of violence, for example.
What’s my strategy? With a majority readership that skews toward Gen Xers and Baby Boomers, I won’t post TWs soon, as these generations haven’t clamored for it, but I plan to revisit the issue if including cautions becomes standard operating procedure throughout the industry.
As writers, we live in a changing world, with an increasing number of tastemakers who approach their reading experience differently than people of earlier generations did. If we want them to become our fans, we must decide whether to give them a TW even if it’s not something we would have ever requested. The risk of including one is that some readers might avoid your work who otherwise would have loved it and recommended it to friends and family while, if you don’t, some who buy your book might get triggered and punish you with a bad review. It’s a gamble either way and one that makes selling books in today’s market even more difficult. But what’s the alternative, not to be an author? We’re storytellers; it’s what we do. Here’s hoping your stories find readers who will appreciate them and recommend them to others!
Jill Prouty
May 17, 2023 at 3:41 pm (2 years ago)I’m so glad I read this. As you know, I’ve had this happen to me and it was quite jarring. For me, it highlighted why it’s important to talk (or write!) about difficult subjects. It just proved my point that silence contributes to the stigma and vice versa.
George Weinstein
May 17, 2023 at 10:06 pm (2 years ago)Thanks for being okay with this blogpost, Jill. I still feel bad for you. While I hope it’s not something that will recur, I fear it’s going to become commonplace. Kim did the blurb exchange with another writer in her genre and followed through on her end of the deal but, as the deadline they’d set was nearing, that author told Kim she couldn’t do a blurb because she found the manuscript triggering–but she got her blurb out of Kim. I think it’s become an excuse for some to get out of commitments.
Martha Brown
May 17, 2023 at 3:42 pm (2 years ago)There are those in my own family who would just not enjoy reading some of what I have written, and if I decide what words, what descriptions and what actions would offend them I’d have a very boring book that the majority of readers would yawn at and reject.
George Weinstein
May 17, 2023 at 10:00 pm (2 years ago)Yes, excellent points, Martha–we censor ourselves at our own peril.