By A.C. Williams by @acw_author
Have you ever left a scathing review on a book you’ve read? Or maybe you’ve heavily criticized a novel in a Facebook group because you didn’t like it.
Harsh critics are so common anymore it’s rare to be in a community where they don’t pop up every now and then (I swear some of them just camp out on social media, looking for a fight). That’s not to say criticism isn’t important even undeserved in some cases. But as frequent and one-sided as our criticism has become over the years, it’s important to remember that not every story is going to suit every reader.
There’s a reason authors have different audiences. People who adore Janet Evanovich probably aren’t going to enjoy Janet Oke. I mean, there are always unicorns, but that’s one I have yet to meet.
Some readers will resonate with a story about llamas. Other readers have traumatic memories of llamas and wouldn’t read a book about them if you paid them a million dollars. But ducks on the other hand? They’d pay good money to read a book about ducks.
Team Llama won’t enjoy the same stories that Team Quackers does, and vice versa. And you know what? That’s awesome.
Imagine if the only stories anyone loved were about llamas. We wouldn’t have any other types of stories. It would be all llamas all the time. Not that I mind llamas, (I knew a llama named Wyatt Earp once. True story.) but I don’t want to read books about them all the time. Sometimes I want to read about water buffalo. Other times I want to read about platypuses and hedgehogs and giraffes and—you get the point.
The only one-size-fits all story is the Gospel. Everything else is personal preference and usually isn’t a hill worth dying on.
Stories aren’t one-size-fits all because people aren’t one-size-fits all. We’re all different. We come from different backgrounds and cultures with different perspectives, determined by how we were raised and how God wired us. So is it really a big deal that Person A loves a story that Person B can’t stand?
I fear that our preferences become so important to us that they circumvent our identities. We begin to define our individual worth by the books we like to read or the fandoms we belong to. Sure, it’s a great way to build community, but what happens when “Tolkien Fan” becomes who you are? When your personal value is dependent on everyone acknowledging the greatness of Tolkien’s writings?
Trouble. That’s what happens.
Because some punk who adores George R.R. Martin will inevitably come along and scoff at the history of Númenor or the forging of the Silmarils. He might even be so bold as to claim that Elrond the Half-Elven was a bum.
Oh. Game on, man. Because how dare he poke fun at Tolkien? Doesn’t he know that George R.R. Martin is the worst? How can he make fun of Tolkien when the plot and worldbuilding gaps of Westeros are large enough to fit Telperion AND Laurelin inside!
Yes, I’m being facetious (but only a little bit).
When you define your worth by anything less than your identity in Christ, anything you hear has the potential to offend you. If Tolkien is how you define yourself, anyone who dislikes Tolkien becomes your enemy. When they speak against Tolkien, they’re speaking against you, and what should be considered a personal preference becomes a personal attack.
No wonder Facebook fan groups are full of so much bitterness and resentment these days. We’re all fighting each other over our preferences as though we’ve been personally insulted.
My friends, you’re worth more than your fandom. And while it’s true that some stories have more redeeming qualities than others, God is perfectly capable of using a bad story for His own glory. That’s kind of what He does all the time.
So before you rush to defend yourself against what you perceive as a personal attack, take a moment to breathe. Think about why you’re upset before you respond. If you’re angry because someone doesn’t like what you like, is it really worth getting involved in a heated discussion? Maybe you’ll make yourself feel better, but will that help you get to know the person you’re arguing with?
Think about it.
Don’t define yourself by the books you love or the television shows you watch. Enjoy them, yes. Celebrate them, yes. But don’t make them the foundation for how you connect with people. Find your value in Christ alone, and it will be far easier to see the value in other people, even if you disagree with them.
Award-winning author A.C. Williams is a coffee-drinking, sushi-eating, story-telling nerd who loves cats, country living, and all things Japanese. She’d rather be barefoot, and if she isn’t, her socks won’t match. She has authored eight novels, three novellas, three devotional books, and more flash fiction than you can shake a stick at. A senior partner at Uncommon Universes Press, she is passionate about stories and the authors who write them. Learn more about her book coaching and follow her adventures online at www.amycwilliams.com.
The Conversation
Loved this line: “God is perfectly capable of using a bad story for His own glory. That’s kind of what He does all the time.”
And such a humbling reminder too, especially when we slow our critisizing of others long enough to realise there are bad stories in our own lives too. Thanks for the reminder to keep our identity in Christ.