I think there are a few more questions to ask yourself when you are considering characters outside your experience. Is it your story to tell? Why do you want to tell that story? Are you taking space from a marginalized writer?
Raquel, first, thank you for being part of this conversation. I really appreciate your perspective here.
Speaking only from my own point of view, I agree that you need a very clear, well-articulated reason for wanting to tell that story—and that reason can’t simply be that it’s trendy. Beyond that, I think the questions become more complex than they first appear.
If you have a genuine reason for telling the story, then I think you should tell it, while recognizing that it will require extra effort, research, and humility to do it well.
Personally, I’ve never been comfortable with the “stay in your lane” way of thinking because it assumes we’re incapable of imagining lives different from our own. To me, that’s at odds with what fiction is, essentially, about.
As for the concern about taking up space, I see that as a publishing issue more than a writing issue. In my view, publishers have a responsibility to support, publish, and promote more writers from marginalized communities so those voices are more fully represented. Sometimes we heap all that responsibility on writers, but don’t put necessary pressure on publishers.
Perhaps our definitions of stay in your lane differ. My definition of stay in your lane is don't be a reckless driver. Don't be driving 100, weaving in and out of traffic, hitting folks and causing injury. Be a respectful driver and share the road. Again it comes back to be a good citizen of the community. There are plenty of examples of authors that did not stay in their lane and who caused harm to the community. American Dirt is one example. There are also examples of authors that were thoughtful and respectful like Today's Fresh Air interviewee, Kennedy Ryan, the prolific romance writer. She actually says "stay in your lane" at one point, when she discusses the fear of writing characters outside her experience. When the transcript & audio are up read/listen to the part where she talks about her research for an Indigenous character.
I like your definition of “stay in your lane.” : ) But yes, you’re right: I was working with a different definition, which is the argument that writers should write only about, and especially from, points of view they’ve directly experienced. That sounds a lot like nonfiction, or thinly veiled nonfiction, and I think it’s a little pessimistic about our ability to empathize.
Your version of “stay in your lane” sounds more like “do no harm,” which I enthusiastically endorse. When you write across difference, especially if you’re writing about someone who has less power than you, you have a moral duty to get it right. But I do think you can get it right, and that can be the beauty and magic of fiction.
I’ll have to hunt down the Kennedy Ryan interview. Also, I'll add, if you have written across differences and had success doing it, especially financial success, you need to lift up other authors who fall under Own Voices. That’s part of being a good literary citizen, too.
"Fiction slows things down. It puts you inside a consciousness that isn’t yours and asks you to take it seriously. Something we need to do to be in touch with our humanity." Well said. But the writer must be writing for readers who are themselves serious about the use of language. Otherwise, we get what we mostly get: genre stories that reassure readers by telling them what they want to hear.
So true. I write for readers who are serious about language and try to tell the truth (as much as I'm able) about my characters, which can mean not telling folks what they want to hear. I'm okay with that. Thanks for commenting!
John, thank you for so clearly exploring this topic. I had a fight with myself over whether I should write outside my experience in the novel I'm working on. I came down to a comfortable position with writing LGBTQ+ characters because my transgender son has helped me meet and get to know more people who live their lives under the Pride umbrella. I feel as if I have a good foundation for writing such characters.
However, I had to shelve the idea of writing characters of color, people with different cultural stripes. I lack the authentic underpinnings for properly developing such characters and I won't embarrass myself by trying to get it right when I know the depth of research I'd need. I've had years, decades, to learn about LGBTQ+ people and their lives from inside the tent.
My friend Elie Axelroth, a white writer, created a Black female main character, and did it well, I thought -- but I'm not Black myself, so I can only report my experience with the story. Elie ran into objections when she was scheduling readings to promote the book. People said to her: "It's not your story to tell." She was flummoxed, because she's a woman who writes male characters as well as female, and she always does her research.
It's an important topic and needs more discussion. Thanks again for addressing the issue here.
Lee, thanks for your thoughts here! Believe me, I’ve struggled with whether or not to write across difference, and I had to do what felt authentic to my experience.
Of course, if we write across differences, we need to examine why we’re doing it and then conduct the research necessary to do it well. And if we don’t do a good job, we need to take the feedback with grace.
However, I’m really against the idea of excluding someone simply for writing across difference, regardless of quality. The “It’s not your story to tell” argument, followed to its logical conclusion, means we can only tell our own stories—which is nonfiction. Bye-bye, fiction. I don’t think it’s a valid argument, and it’s often flung at writers when it should be aimed at the publishing industry. They’re the ones that need to make more space on their lists for queer and POC voices—and many of them are.
I get the frustration with writers who write from a gay perspective and fall back on stereotypes—believe me—but I support their right to do it, and then land my criticism.
That said, I do think that if you’re a major writer bringing in a lot of money from your books and you have a big audience, you need to be aware of the impact if you get it wrong. You should take extra care with research and sensitivity-reader feedback. But hey, you can afford it. : )
I think there are a few more questions to ask yourself when you are considering characters outside your experience. Is it your story to tell? Why do you want to tell that story? Are you taking space from a marginalized writer?
Raquel, first, thank you for being part of this conversation. I really appreciate your perspective here.
Speaking only from my own point of view, I agree that you need a very clear, well-articulated reason for wanting to tell that story—and that reason can’t simply be that it’s trendy. Beyond that, I think the questions become more complex than they first appear.
If you have a genuine reason for telling the story, then I think you should tell it, while recognizing that it will require extra effort, research, and humility to do it well.
Personally, I’ve never been comfortable with the “stay in your lane” way of thinking because it assumes we’re incapable of imagining lives different from our own. To me, that’s at odds with what fiction is, essentially, about.
As for the concern about taking up space, I see that as a publishing issue more than a writing issue. In my view, publishers have a responsibility to support, publish, and promote more writers from marginalized communities so those voices are more fully represented. Sometimes we heap all that responsibility on writers, but don’t put necessary pressure on publishers.
Perhaps our definitions of stay in your lane differ. My definition of stay in your lane is don't be a reckless driver. Don't be driving 100, weaving in and out of traffic, hitting folks and causing injury. Be a respectful driver and share the road. Again it comes back to be a good citizen of the community. There are plenty of examples of authors that did not stay in their lane and who caused harm to the community. American Dirt is one example. There are also examples of authors that were thoughtful and respectful like Today's Fresh Air interviewee, Kennedy Ryan, the prolific romance writer. She actually says "stay in your lane" at one point, when she discusses the fear of writing characters outside her experience. When the transcript & audio are up read/listen to the part where she talks about her research for an Indigenous character.
I like your definition of “stay in your lane.” : ) But yes, you’re right: I was working with a different definition, which is the argument that writers should write only about, and especially from, points of view they’ve directly experienced. That sounds a lot like nonfiction, or thinly veiled nonfiction, and I think it’s a little pessimistic about our ability to empathize.
Your version of “stay in your lane” sounds more like “do no harm,” which I enthusiastically endorse. When you write across difference, especially if you’re writing about someone who has less power than you, you have a moral duty to get it right. But I do think you can get it right, and that can be the beauty and magic of fiction.
I’ll have to hunt down the Kennedy Ryan interview. Also, I'll add, if you have written across differences and had success doing it, especially financial success, you need to lift up other authors who fall under Own Voices. That’s part of being a good literary citizen, too.
Pressure should be put on the publishers. And good citizenship by writers should be part of the mix.
Yes, and yes! ♥️
"Fiction slows things down. It puts you inside a consciousness that isn’t yours and asks you to take it seriously. Something we need to do to be in touch with our humanity." Well said. But the writer must be writing for readers who are themselves serious about the use of language. Otherwise, we get what we mostly get: genre stories that reassure readers by telling them what they want to hear.
So true. I write for readers who are serious about language and try to tell the truth (as much as I'm able) about my characters, which can mean not telling folks what they want to hear. I'm okay with that. Thanks for commenting!
John, thank you for so clearly exploring this topic. I had a fight with myself over whether I should write outside my experience in the novel I'm working on. I came down to a comfortable position with writing LGBTQ+ characters because my transgender son has helped me meet and get to know more people who live their lives under the Pride umbrella. I feel as if I have a good foundation for writing such characters.
However, I had to shelve the idea of writing characters of color, people with different cultural stripes. I lack the authentic underpinnings for properly developing such characters and I won't embarrass myself by trying to get it right when I know the depth of research I'd need. I've had years, decades, to learn about LGBTQ+ people and their lives from inside the tent.
My friend Elie Axelroth, a white writer, created a Black female main character, and did it well, I thought -- but I'm not Black myself, so I can only report my experience with the story. Elie ran into objections when she was scheduling readings to promote the book. People said to her: "It's not your story to tell." She was flummoxed, because she's a woman who writes male characters as well as female, and she always does her research.
It's an important topic and needs more discussion. Thanks again for addressing the issue here.
Lee, thanks for your thoughts here! Believe me, I’ve struggled with whether or not to write across difference, and I had to do what felt authentic to my experience.
Of course, if we write across differences, we need to examine why we’re doing it and then conduct the research necessary to do it well. And if we don’t do a good job, we need to take the feedback with grace.
However, I’m really against the idea of excluding someone simply for writing across difference, regardless of quality. The “It’s not your story to tell” argument, followed to its logical conclusion, means we can only tell our own stories—which is nonfiction. Bye-bye, fiction. I don’t think it’s a valid argument, and it’s often flung at writers when it should be aimed at the publishing industry. They’re the ones that need to make more space on their lists for queer and POC voices—and many of them are.
I get the frustration with writers who write from a gay perspective and fall back on stereotypes—believe me—but I support their right to do it, and then land my criticism.
That said, I do think that if you’re a major writer bringing in a lot of money from your books and you have a big audience, you need to be aware of the impact if you get it wrong. You should take extra care with research and sensitivity-reader feedback. But hey, you can afford it. : )