On Sensitivity and Trigger Warnings in Writing
As most writers do, I’ve been sharing my work at different conferences I’ve been finding online. I do this not only to technically improve, but also to understand the impressions I am giving to readers.
At the last conference I attended, one of my critique partners mentioned that, although my writing was very good, as a heavier woman, she had been triggered by the fact one of my characters had some unkind thoughts about the weight of others. She advised that I take the material out.
As cancel culture gains strength, these kinds of requests are not uncommon for readers. Publishers are leery to publish anything unsavory that might cause a controversy or distress, and they don’t want to put their brands and agencies at risk. Jennifer Weiner, for example, talked with National Public Radio about how a potential agent had wanted to avoid having a character be “fat.”
This, then is the challenge: As writers, how do we know when to keep “tough” material in our fiction? And as readers, how can we differentiate between our own history and what’s included not for shock, but for an authentic, believable story?
The danger of having no rough edges
The reality is, believable stories are not perfect. Characters — even protagonists — think unkind things sometimes. They experience hardship. To completely eliminate any portrayal of harsh circumstances or behavior eliminates potentially positive tension in the book.
But more importantly, it perpetuates an environment in which people can simply whitewash what’s unpleasant, rather than facing it in a safe space with good support. From Les Miserables to To Kill a Mockingbird, books have always been a resource that helps us understand ourselves, each other, and the world in all its gritty glory. To craft only “safe” versions denies an opportunity for growth, healing, and connection.
My view boils down to three main points:
- A reader being “triggered” doesn’t necessarily mean material is inappropriate or needs to be removed. It often means you’re touching on something deep and true — which can actually be a sign of literary strength rather than weakness.
- Discomfort is part of what elevates writing to literary or serious nonfiction territory. Work that engages trauma, faith, and human complexity isn’t meant to be universally “safe.” It’s meant to resonate honestly, even if it unsettles.
- Literary fiction (and literary nonfiction) often challenges readers’ assumptions — that’s one reason it endures. Rather than sanding off rough edges to make the work palatable, it leans into the tension, trusting readers to wrestle with it.
Can you name the purpose?
My general rule of thumb is, if you are including something that’s potentially triggering, always have an exact, intentional reason for putting it on the page.
In my work, for example, my character’s judgments about the weight of others served to reveal insecurity, and to serve as a launchpad for her reflections about how she used to be. Instead of simply including her harsh thoughts, I unpacked her entire cognitive dissonance, capturing a moment where she wrestled with herself about how to be. In fact, she even notes that she shouldn’t think what she thought because it was so unkind.
That, in turn, helped set up the entire premise of the book — she had a choice between authenticity and playing a part. It’s not there simply to say that weight is a problem, but rather to acknowledge how a contemporary woman actually wrestles with the issue as part of identity.
Choose to wrestle
There’s nothing wrong with “safe” books — these are the kind we happily toss into our bags for a day at the beach or consume when we need a break. It’s not necessary to wrestle in every book. But if we don’t have some books that ask us to get uncomfortable, we lose some of our own potential strength. I’m willing, with purpose and care, to put those kind of books into the world, and to read them.
Are you?
[Transcript summary]
Hello, everybody. Wanda Thibodeaux of takingdictation.com here.
As a writer, I am really noticing that there are a lot more books that have trigger warnings on them. It seems like there is a larger conversation around sensitivity in writing and being aware of how readers are going to take the work that you put out there. And that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
But I do want to make a distinction between having some maybe hard issues or complex issues in a book that might be triggering, and they’re there because the character is complex, and then having those issues in there just to make it edgy or to stand out. There is a difference.
And I think sometimes when people get triggered, we have to be very careful. And as readers, we have to be aware, to say, this is the character. It is there for a reason. It’s not to traumatize me, but this is genuinely what the character is thinking. This is what they’re feeling.
People are messy. They’re not always going to be nice, they’re not always going to say the right things. And I think as readers and writers, we have to have that conversation so that we understand each other, that you know, we’re not trying to cause pain. We’re just trying to tell a story in an authentic way.
So, I would love to hear your thoughts on that. You know, when should we put those warnings or suggestions in there? And let me know what you think.
Take care. Bye.