#Fearless Read-Along

This week, I've been hosting a Fearless read-along - you can check the original post HERE for links to FB and Insta to access the discussion - and it's quite the blast from the past for me. There's something I keep coming back to - something I believed strongly back in 2014 when I adapted Fearless into the start of this series, and something I still believe today, even more strongly. 

It's this: no one writes books for everyone. 

But books written for particular readers usually offer tidbits of unspeakable truth for those who enjoy them. 

I think if you sit down to write a book intended to please every possible reader, you'll end up with a story built on tropes, and archetypes, bright colors and flashy taglines...but without any real substance to back it up. We've reached a point in the current book community in which personal taste is often incorrectly conflated with moral righteousness. A readership lens in which the reader's personal background/decision-making process is expected to be reflected in a story's protagonist - or else the author "did a bad job." 

It's my belief that there's no such thing as a "good story idea" or a "bad story idea." There is only consistent, meticulous characterization, thoughtful prose, and emotional continuity. In a time of hashtags, and trends, and market buzz, there's an unsettling push to paint books not as individual efforts of imagination and expression, but as consumer products with mass-appeal. Rather than talk about the nuance and subtlety and complication of capturing a slice of life on paper, books are judged based on checked-off boxes of criteria, like comparing the storage capacity of two laptops you're trying to decide upon. I can't help but feel like this approach actively discourages creativity and risk-taking. It discourages thoughtful discussion about the media being consumed. It doesn't account for taste, and it's individual taste that, at the end of the day, drives book sales and builds book-loving communities. 

Before I was an indie author, I was a fanfic writer. As much as I value original fiction, I will always support fanfics and fic-writing communities. It's such a chance to get your feet wet as a writer; to explore craft, and learn as part of a supportive, wildly creative community of fellow fiction lovers. It was that for me for several years, until the fandom I was a part of, like most fandoms, turned toxic. A new group of fic writers banded together, linked virtual arms, and launched a months' long harassment campaign against every author in the community who they saw as a threat to their own work. One member of this clique in particular harassed me unceasingly, because she was angry that so many readers liked my work, and thought she and her buddies should be the gatekeepers of an entire fandom. I shouldn't write about young, impressionable women like Ava, she said ad nauseum but about older, more mature, responsible, professional women...blah, blah. It got so annoying, so un-fun that I left fandom and started writing original fiction. 

Here was what that clique utterly failed to understand about fiction: not every story is for every reader. Furthermore: We shouldn't want that to be the case. 

It's no secret at this point that I like writing dark fiction. I like taking controversial points of view and challenging readers to feel empathetic toward characters who are criminals, or starry-eyed youngsters, or women more ferocious than their men. Characters who are murderers, who are weapons; characters who are victims, who are struggling, who suffer from anxiety and depression. Characters who are bikers, or Chekists, or who are freaking Vlad the Impaler. 

From the beginning, my goal with Fearless was a specific one. I didn't want to write about a scary, mean outlaw softening for his very soft and law-abiding woman. I researched the heck out of these one-percenter clubs, and I wanted to write about one of the big, successful, intimidating clubs - about the men who chose to live outside of society, and the women who'd turned their backs on society in favor of a life of outlawry alongside their men. The question wasn't "how can I make readers think the way I do?" It was "how can I create characters who feel terribly real, and put their thoughts and feelings on the page?" That's my goal with every book. I try to create a complete picture: of a place, of a group of people, of a lifestyle. 

The thing that surprises me, again and again, is the reader response. I love when readers tell me that they love a character - and that they all love different characters! I love hearing that one reader loves Mercy, and another prefers Aidan. Hearing about all the little, small scenes that left an impression: things as simple as Ghost urging an exhausted Ava to eat a candy bar in the hospital; and as big as Mercy overcome with remembered grief, holding Ava to him so tightly he lifts her feet off the ground. 

Different parts of the story speak to different readers. And, still, there are some readers to whom the story doesn't speak at all - because it isn't a story for everyone. It doesn't have to be, it wasn't meant to be. 

That's one of the major takeaways of my career thus far: an author isn't writing for the world. An author is writing for the people who read their work and say, "I like this. This holds meaning for me." That's been the most wonderful compliment: to know that someone has found enjoyment and comfort in my work. 

Thank you, all! It's been a pleasure, and there's so many more stories to explore.