Nov 26 2008
Living in a Fog
The creepy fog outside, which settled in last night as soon as the sun went down, has done more than add a bit of mystery to the day. My mind has been weighed down for several days by the opinions of others, held strongly, stated as if they were facts, complete with angst, anger, fear, and a sort of overt sneer.
I have a friend back in Oklahoma, and one in Kansas, who are both very conservative, and one of them is, alas, passionately religious (not spiritual–religious–for the two are not the same). And recently one of them forwarded about TEN messages to me, all of which espoused some sort of hatred or anger, and pushed for a change in the world. For instance, one forward criticized Oprah for supposedly deciding that she was God, and yet it’s link to the “confession” she made was actually a discussion between her and another person, where she said God had to be found within us, not outside of us. And that happens to be something I agree with completely.
Another couple of forwards described the possibility of gay marriage in terrifically frightening terms, but I belong to an “open and affirming” church, and several gay couples attend. In this respect, I am even more liberal than Obama.
In yet a third set of forwards, she was sending a message about some small business owner who realized–because Obama had been elected–that the economy was only going to be worse now (because, I suppose, Obama had been in office all this time? No logic here). He figured he’d have to lay off at least six employees, so he decided to choose the six people who had Obama stickers on their back bumpers.
Now, I don’t mean to just flaunt my liberal feathers out for everyone to see, but I am always shocked by the tendency for us to adopt opinions and then place a fog around ourselves, blinding ourselves not only to other opinions, but to the possibility that anyone could believe differently than we do. I really don’t have a problem with her believing the way she does (even if, to me, it’s a bit frightening), but I have a significant problem with her assuming that, since I go to church, or am a mom, or merely know here, I must feel exactly the same way.
But this isn’t just her problem. It’s mine, too. I know others disagree with me, on an intellectual level, but emotionally I have trouble dealing with their differences, especially when I’m passionate about something. And that affects my writing, in so many ways. My characters, however much I design them not to be me, still present a world that is of my making, and the messages are ones I believe in. The evil characters represent evils I especially detest (bigotry, violence, infidelity, selfishness), and the protagonists show qualities I especially admire (resourcefulness, bravery, fidelity, passion).
Yet everyone doesn’t react to my characters the same way. A single infringement on their own set of values (say, if my current main character, a white girl, finds love with a black boy–a similar plot twist to my second novel, when the main character loves a boy of mixed race who also happens to be deaf), could make readers reject my books. They could find my liberal nonviolence too hard to bear when protagonists are faced with violence (my characters do not, as a rule, fight with weapons, and they do not seek anyone’s destruction, no matter how much those characters seek to kill the protagonists). They might be offended by the portrayal of parents in my first and third novels–I know my own parents would, were they to read them. The truth is, all sorts of people could hate my plays and novels for all sorts of ideological reasons.
Does that mean I need to change my novels? Nope. It means I need to lift the fog, that I need to be prepared for the reactions of others, both positive and negative, and know that those kinds of value judgments will be made about my work. But I cannot make my works different, just to please those whose ideas do not coincide with mine. My work needs to be mine more than it needs to be marketable.
Perhaps, too, by entertaining an idea they find in my works, some readers might actually have their own fog lifted, and see the world in all its complexity. I can only hope to make that kind of change possible.
If writers had to write something that no one could take offense to, there would never be anything to publish!
Yet my job isn’t to offend…for if all I do is make people defensive, I can’t make them listen. My job as a writer, wife, mother, friend, teacher, and the list goes on…my job is to get people to listen, to change the world with gentleness, peace, and love…not to hit people over the head with my ideas.
No doubt some will be offended anyway, though, flit. And I can’t help that. But if enough of us travel the path of peace, we can change the world.
And thanks for your metaphor, Marcia! I’ll check out your page!
Interestingly, a creepy fog came to our town (in Eastern Canada) last night. I thought of Dementors first, and your blog entry second!
It made me think a little more about how we see things… and about the way you seem almost apologetic for having characters who would do what you would do in your writing.
That’s the true meaning behind the oldest and best piece of writing advice - “Write what you know” - isn’t it?
It’s also what I love about writing and literature - that through it, we get all of these windows into different ways of seeing things, and if we’re smart enough to put them all together, we get an incredibly detailed picture.
That’s weird about the fog, mommagreenfish (and cool name, by the way).
I think I’m too apologetic, even though I’ve been struggling not to be for years. I am still caught in that whole fight to be liked…when it really doesn’t matter what other people think, unless they are intelligent people who care about the world like I do. Yet we are writing to communicate…I’m no Emily Dickinson, after all…and we’d like to know that what we write strikes a chord in readers.