{"id":1614,"date":"2022-01-26T08:05:29","date_gmt":"2022-01-26T13:05:29","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/?p=1614"},"modified":"2022-01-26T08:06:38","modified_gmt":"2022-01-26T13:06:38","slug":"moral-pushups","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/2022\/01\/26\/moral-pushups\/","title":{"rendered":"Moral Pushups"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p>On January 7, 2021, Belle Adora wrote, <em>Whenever I am writing I always have some sort of moral to push. But I stress over pushing my point too much and causing it to be cliche or under involving it in my story and leaving the reader confused at the end. I tend to end up having a character recite a monologue where their views on something is pushed. I don\u2019t know how to get my points across without it being dry. Any advice?<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Two writers replied.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Melissa Mead: <em>Try writing a story that doesn\u2019t have a moral, just to see what it feels like. Often, if you focus on writing the story first, the moral will come through anyway.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Christie V Powell: <em>I call it a theme instead of a moral, and it gets integrated into every element of stories: setting, characters, plot, etc. The theme might be hinted at, or maybe even said outright in a few key spots, but you don\u2019t want to preach. People listen and learn much better through stories than sermons.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>For instance, in my <u>Mira\u2019s Griffin<\/u>, I wanted the theme to be about the value of communication. The theme is reflected in the setting because there are two different species that cannot communicate\u2013and at first believes that the other is incapable. It\u2019s in the characters, once some of the characters learn how to communicate and others don\u2019t. It\u2019s in the plot as the main characters work to teach their species to communicate with each other before they cause a war and kill each other. The main character doesn\u2019t need to stand up and give a speech, because she\u2019s living the theme.<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>These are spot on!<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I don\u2019t look for morals in novels. I\u2019m most eager for engaging characters, an exciting plot, a solid setting, and good writing. But when I look at my own fiction, I do see a theme (as Christie V Powell says) that runs through them: kindness, which I suppose is my highest value\u2014even thinking that chokes me up a little. I don\u2019t believe humans have much if we take away kindness\u2014and kindness means empathy. My crazy fairy Lucinda doesn\u2019t intend to hurt anyone; she wants to help, but she has no empathy, so she can\u2019t even guess what real help would mean. Mandy and other fairies, by contrast, don\u2019t practice big magic because empathy constrains them; they imagine the chaos and suffering they could cause. They suffer just thinking of it and hold back.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I\u2019m like Christie V Powell in that my characters don\u2019t speechify. The kindness theme reveals itself in the way the plot plays out, in the lives of the characters, in what succeeds in the end and what fails. (I\u2019d argue that kindness also underpins <em>Mira\u2019s Griffin<\/em> as described.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I was at my preachiest in <em>The Lost Kingdom of Bamarre<\/em> and in my historical novel, <em>A Ceiling Made of Eggshells<\/em>, which are both, moral-wise, about the evils of prejudice. In <em>Lost Kingdom<\/em>, MC Perry makes a speech about tyranny but not about prejudice, which isn\u2019t addressed directly, but it\u2019s implicit in everything. In<em> Ceiling<\/em>, antisemitism is discussed, as it would have been back then (and now), and it\u2019s part but not all of what caused the Jews to be expelled from Spain. They were also taxed into such poverty that they were no longer economically useful to the monarchs, which made them disposable.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>If we want to convey a moral and we want to make sure our readers get it, how do we do it while keeping them happy and engaged?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Louisa May Alcott stuffed a moral into every chapter and sometimes every page of her books for children, which I loved when I was little. My parents loved them too, because I turned into a paragon for as long as I was reading one! Back then, the morals didn\u2019t bore me as they do now. I was eager for the lesson, whatever it happened to be. Sometimes Alcott\u2019s perspective was feminist, and sometimes it was distinctly not.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Novelist and philosopher Ayn Rand was also a moralist. I don\u2019t agree with her doctrine of selfishness, which seems to me not to embody either kindness or empathy, but I loved her books while I read them. I plowed enthusiastically through her characters\u2019 endless speeches on economic and political theory. During the reading, I saw the world as she did. A week or so later, I\u2019d wake up.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>(If you\u2019re interested, her early novel <em>We the Living<\/em> is autobiographical, and the reader gets the backstory of her positions\u2014and feels for her.)<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Both writers, both dead, are still popular. So how did they do it?<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>I\u2019m not sure, but I have some ideas.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>We care about their characters, and part of what we love about them is their ideals, which is where the moral is found. The characters may fall short, as Jo March often does, but the falling short makes us love her more, because we often fall short too, but we like to think we pick ourselves up and keep going, as Jo does. The Rand heroines are mysterious and surprising\u2014weird, really, but I liked that.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The novels of both authors are romances, and the moral is tied up with the romance. The girl and the guy can\u2019t love each other if they don\u2019t satisfy each other\u2019s idea of what\u2019s right. Jo can\u2019t attach herself to Laurie, no matter how much I wanted her to, because he just isn\u2019t upstanding enough, but he can be paired with Amy, who will whip him into shape, at least as I remember.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>The moral in both books is usually stated in dialogue rather than narration, and the reader loves the speaker who puts the moral forward.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>In Rand in particular, the stakes are high\u2014the world, actually. The importance kept me glued to the story.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>So we have: character, romance, a dialogue delivery system, and high stakes. Here are three prompts to try them out on:<\/p>\n\n\n\n<ul><li>The moral of the story of Robin Hood is that stealing is good if the poor benefit. The moral of Ayn Rand\u2019s novels is that selfishness is good because it improves the human condition. Write a story with an Opposite-Day moral, like that lying\u2014or cheating or laziness or greed, etc.\u2014is good.<\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n<ul><li>In \u201cLittle Red Riding Hood,\u201d the moral is to listen to your mother. Or maybe it\u2019s not to stray from the righteous path. Little Red doesn\u2019t listen and does stray and matters don\u2019t go well for her. But what would have happened if she stuck to the road? Write that story, and make sure it doesn\u2019t go well. If you like, bring in a different moral for the reader to ponder.<\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n<ul><li>Write a story spun off from <em>Pride and Prejudice<\/em> about Lydia\u2019s life with Wickham. If you don\u2019t have the book memorized, read a plot summary to get you going. Lydia has flouted the morality of her time. If you like, work in a moral for your story.<\/li><\/ul>\n\n\n\n<p>Have fun and save what you write!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>On January 7, 2021, Belle Adora wrote, Whenever I am writing I always have some sort of moral to push. But I stress over pushing my point too much and causing it to be cliche or under involving it in my story and leaving the reader confused at the end. I tend to end up [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[280],"tags":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1614"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1614"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1614\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1616,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1614\/revisions\/1616"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1614"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1614"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/gailcarsonlevine.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1614"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}