Is Writing Fiction Making Me a Better Person?

The potential moral value of creative work

Hey before I begin, I’m happy to announce that I published a piece about Rosemary’s Baby and The Devil Rides Out over at Popular Culture and Theology. The piece examines the two movies as having conflicting positions in the culture wars of 1968. In the end, I make a case for having empathy for your ideological enemies. Let me know what you think!

Photo by Chris Chow on Unsplash

"Does reading books make you a better person?"

This is a common question that haunts people in my professional circles: "English-types" we're sometimes called. Those of us who labor in the professional humanities (I teach in the field) have been known to be a bit desperate at times when defending our livelihoods. So when practical arguments for taking English classes prove unpersuasive, we will very often resort to pathos, ye olde emotional appeal. To this end, you often hear people claim that reading novels builds empathy or something else that vibes with positivity.

I have no idea whether it's true or not. And I don't much care, to be honest. If you pushed me for an answer, I suppose I'd say, "probably not." If you've ever been to an academic conference in the humanities and found yourself swimming with those sharks, you'd understand my doubts. Those folks have the most finely-tuned literary instruments around and many of them are jerks. Even worse: they're jerks, not in SPITE of their rarefied levels of reading, but BECAUSE of that fact.

Like Hannibal Lecter's exquisite taste leads him to murderous cannibalism, many literary scholars become insufferable. And for them, this is an outcome of a life spent in books. For another example that I won't push too far here, I'm pretty sure a lot of the Nazis were very well-read and cultured.

So yea, forgive the raised eyebrow I aim at the humanist religion.

But What About Writing?

But lately I've noticed something about myself. I feel like I've been a better person. There are countless metrics for such a category, I know. The one I'm using is this: I've been much more generous-minded about people lately and this has led to me being friendlier and more helpful to others.

I'm honestly a little puzzled about the source of this fresher attitude. One thing I started thinking about today was whether or not my recent dedication to writing fiction has something to do with it.

Incidentally, in a comment to my last post, reader Tynan openly-wondered about this subject, having no idea I’d just drafted this post:

Danny, thanks for your post. It reminds me of the book Experiment in Criticism by C.S. Lewis. He's talking about books, but I think he suggests something to the affect that a good reader opens up to a work and tries to be receptive and generous. I appreciate people who are like this while still being discerning. Also, weirdly I feel like attempting to make your own creative works/art lends some humility and greater appreciation when critiquing others.

Many thanks to Tynan for commenting and I would love to hear from you too. This piece follows a variation on his comment.

Disclaimer

Now before I take you into the weeds here, let me just say that even if I'm right about MY circumstance, I don't believe that it is translatable as a general claim. Writing fiction will not necessarily make everyone a better person any more than reading fiction will. I point to the existence of, say, Norman Mailer as an example. And that was just one of many pieces of low-hanging fruit I could pull. So I limit this to my own experience.

Developing the Moral Imagination

I've had a handful of short stories published so far and I find a lot of pleasure in that form. My attention span is probably shorter than that of most people and I like moving through projects on my way to the next one; my short stories lend themselves to this inclination.

i.

Lately, I've pulled back from submitting my work and focused on drafting. Over the last 4-6 months, I've collected a dozen or so first drafts that I will eventually revise and send off.

The act of focusing on creation and forgetting about seeking acceptance has been cleansing. There is a therapeutic function to writing and the satisfaction of having made something is part of that healing process. Doing something for its own sake has real power. I've felt a growth in my confidence as a writer and it seems to me that a person who's at greater peace with themselves can bring a better, more positive energy to their interactions with others. Put simply, I've felt more welcoming and open with my neighbors because I feel less self-loathing than I used to.

ii.

There is a second reason that writing fiction has been a morally productive activity for me. It's related to another dimension of the therapeutic nature of the act. There's a freedom a writer feels when they're tracking down a story in process. And in that liberated state, one can stare the darkness down and not worry whether it's staring back.

This is especially true if you don't think anyone else will see it. In fact, I can probably just assume no one is looking at me wrestle with my icky qualities.

Maybe I'll publish some of these stories, maybe I won't. And let's be honest; even if I do how many people are going to read it anyway? Being a relative nobody can be liberating. The point is, in these stories I've been able to square off against some of the whispering, formless anxieties that have kept me from living a healthy life in the past. I sometimes call this "shadow boxing."

I have found it to be a good training routine in preparing to confront real people, who are every bit as complicated and full of contradictions as I am.

iii.

There's a final, more complex way that writing has helped me lately too. I hope I can do it justice in my explanation here.

In addition to the short stories, I've also been committing myself to finishing my novel. Recently, I completed what I consider to be the first full draft (though it's probably, technically, the second draft). I'm now going through the manuscript and editing it for style and structure, taking down notes about things I want to add and subtract along the way. This process is tricky, but fascinating and I find myself constantly jotting down ideas. Often, these ideas strike me in my interactions with other people. Someone will say something, a phrase, a historical fact, a concern, anything really, and a connection forms in my mind related to my novel.

I understand that it may sound like I'm constantly objectifying everyone as I obsess over finishing this thing, using them as unwilling muses. But I really don't think of it that way.

The revision of this book has become a new connection between me and my world, including the people in it. I'm finding myself inspired by my interactions with people because of this process. I'm engaged with others more and I find myself listening more closely, taking their people's lives more seriously. Yes, it is related to an attitude of mining life for my personal use. But, this practice has instilled a virtuous habit in me nonetheless.

Writing the book has opened my eyes to the world around me, making me more engaged and observant. Far from being a distraction from life, it's made me focus outside myself more.

Caution is prudent, of course. As I complete this process and follow the novel wherever it takes me, I'm trying to be cognizant of the temptation to see people as mere grist for the mill. That is the last thing I want, and that's how I imagined people like Norman Mailer lived.

So far, these stories and this novel have been an inspiring act of imagination that has made the world around me and its people shine more brightly, become more interesting. Everyone seems to matter more to me now and I don't know what to trace that development to other than this commitment to creation.

I’d love to hear from other creative people out there. Is my experience at all like yours?