Author Confessions: Too Much Trauma
I was pondering how we use tragedies, setback, unfortunate incidents to move a story along. No one wants to read a story about someone whose life is going along great and they have everything they need materially, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. It’s odd to think that heaven will have none of those things and while we don’t like the trials that come our way, some of our own making perhaps, we do (hopefully!) grow through them in real life.
The same is true for characters in a book. They have to face challenges and grow or the reader won’t want to read the story. Maybe it’s cathartic for the reader (and it can be for the author) to witness, on a page, someone triumphing over difficulties.
But there can be too much trauma and it can be a balancing act about how much we show the reader about the difficulties a character may face. When I had to write the prologue for Pesto and Potholes because my Editor-in-chief insisted, it should have come with a trigger warning. It was hard to write. There is another scene earlier in the story where my character faces and attempted rape that I had to walk that carefully as well. How to be descriptive and let the reader feel the terror and pain without overwhelming them. It was hard to do.
I was thinking the other day that no one is writing stories about Covid-19. Maybe that’s too close and too universal. Maybe because opinions can be polarizing: vaccinated or unvaccinated. Emotions in this country (and perhaps around the world) ran high and opinions on treatment, masking, social distancing, closing schools, churches, and businesses, are still debated. The trauma is still experienced by many whether they had Covid or not. Too much trauma? Or just too difficult to write a story that would rise above all that? My guess is it is a little of both. Maybe forty years from now someone will write a historical novel about it when we are all far enough removed? But I for one, have no wish to write a novel that deals specifically with that. Could it appear as a side note? Sure, but not center stage.
The reality is many of us suffer from various traumas in our lives. Some are so severe they develop Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder or Dissociative Disorder. There is a newer term called Complex Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder that can encompass more long-term trauma but as of now it isn’t recognized by the American Psychological Association. However, there are a variety of doctors who have been lobbying for it to be included and there are countless books on the subject. I’ve tried reading a few but even that can be triggering so I need to go slow due to my own undiagnosed (because it isn’t valid on medical forms) cPTSD.
There have been some books I’ve edited that could have been triggering and some I’ve struggled with, not because the author didn’t do a good job, or I didn’t like the story, only because it hit too close to my own experience. I had someone who read an early version of Pesto and Potholes who got angry. Why? “How did you know my life story?” I didn’t. She was happy with the final product though and is one of my biggest fans as an author, and a dear sister in Christ who I see often at church. I’m grateful God could use it in a positive way and while I wouldn’t wish a reader pain in reading a story, I’m happy that the way I dealt with it satisfied her. That was a pretty high bar to reach.
There’s a popular phrase that God will never give us more than we can bear. That’s a lie. He often allows too much trauma so we can depend on Him. So too, our characters might face difficulties but the balancing act as an author is to make sure it’s not too much. Sometimes reality is stranger and much more difficult than fiction. I wonder if Job had been written more from a third person point of view of Job (and maybe his wife) we might feel the depth of pain and loss at a level that would be too difficult to read. He lost all of his kids. Done. No funeral mentioned, just tragedy upon tragedy. But I imagine the depth of grief was the worst of everything he endured. Remembering their births, moments of fun and play, the last time they talked, their dreams, his hopes for grandchildren that would never be. Fast forward and God gave him more children. Can you imagine? All his kids were adults from what we can discern, then everything is restored but him and his wife go through pregnancy, birth, and raising an entirely new LARGE family! I’m exhausted just thinking about it!
As an author who loves Jesus, I always hope to bring the hope of Christ to every story, no matter what the trauma. Not necessarily “in-your-face” kind of hope but that undergirding strength and encouragement that the Holy Spirit gives us to endure and overcome the challenges in our lives.
When I sign books I always cite James 1:17 which states: Every good thing given and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow. This verse comes after James has talked about trials, difficulties, and temptations and asks us to consider it joy. JOY? That something is gut-wrenchingly heart-stoppingly painful? Somewhere in the midst of our pain there is a gift that God is birthing and James wants to remind us of that. I also sign my books with You are a gift. We can’t forget that God created each person with a purpose to bring glory to Himself but also to serve a purpose in the lives of others in this world.
Trauma. Joy. We can have too much trauma in life and in books but hopefully the love and presence of Christ through His Holy Spirit will get us through to the gifts awaiting us on the other side.
Justice would say my life is unfair. I don’t deserve to sit in a comfy chair in a climate-controlled home with sweet doggies at my side, writing this. I am a sinner. I fail too often, even if only in my thoughts which are not always as kind and compassionate as I would like them to be. Without my faith in the salvation bought for me at the cross by Jesus Christ, and the work He has done in my heart and life through the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit, I would be toast. So, I savor the sacred because life is fragile and transient. 
