Should Novelists Share Their Politics (Or Not?)
By Randy Susan Meyers | January 13, 2025 |
I write novels—made-up stories. I’m neither a journalist nor a historian, but truth, facts, and extensive research anchor my work.
For each story, I read hundreds of books and articles—current and archival—delving into topics as varied as traumatic brain injury, organic skincare products, the history of protest art, and Freedom Summer in Greenwood, Mississippi.
There is no separating my belief systems from my storytelling. My characters—whether protagonists or antagonists—are never wholly good or bad. They are complicated souls shaped by their histories, desires, and the turbulent world around them. To me, the richest novels arise from the stew of familial conflicts within the broader societal currents that shape our lives.
But what about when I step out from behind my characters? Should I reveal my politics, fears, and convictions?
Having grown up obsessively reading about slavery, the Holocaust, and oppression (I was not a fun child), and with a family forced to escape Germany and Romania because of politics, I believe art and life must collide. Other than Native Americans, aren’t we all children of immigrants? And if so, shouldn’t our art reflect our responsibility to protect one another?
My novels will always contain strong beliefs woven into propulsive plots and (I pray) fascinating, sometimes infuriating characters—but what about when I remove the scrim of the story?
Writers face difficult choices within and outside of fiction, especially in today’s hyper-polarized social media landscape.
The Balancing Act: Politics, Publishing, and Readers
Many of us wrestle with a fundamental dilemma:
- Does infusing our work with political or social convictions hinder our chances of getting published?
- Should we avoid discussing politics online to prevent alienating readers?
- How much do our belief systems naturally shape our fiction?
Author Julie Carrick Dalton articulated something that resonated deeply:
“I teach a class at Tufts called Climate Fiction & Activism, where we explore whether art is a form of activism. Do artists owe their audience anything beyond a good story? In my opinion, no. But that doesn’t mean we must shy away from our beliefs. If I want my personal politics reflected in my work, that’s my prerogative. I can’t write honestly without reflecting my fears about our climate crisis. Readers who disagree can choose another book.
Also, I am not very active on social media. I hardly ever post about anything. This is not a reflection of wanting to avoid politics. It’s more about my discomfort with social media in general.“
Catherine McKenzie offered a pithy perspective that had me nodding—yes, we have platforms and can choose to use them.
“I don’t overtly include politics in my books, though political themes—especially feminism—do surface. But I never shy away from expressing my political views online. If you have a platform, you can choose to use it.”
Virginia Pye cut straight to the heart of the issue:
“All writing is political. A writer’s worldview inevitably seeps into their stories. But publishing is risk-averse. I recently struggled to sell a novel set during the 2020 social justice protests and the removal of Confederate monuments in Richmond, Virginia. I was repeatedly told that readers don’t want to be reminded of that time. Fortunately, a smaller, more daring press, Koehler Books, embraced it. Novels demand too much time and effort to tell anything other than the stories we are compelled to write.”
The Algorithmic Minefield
Beyond publishers, authors face another formidable force: social media algorithms. Katherine McCleary shared a disturbing experience:
“I generally avoid politics online, but this fall, I posted about a medically necessary abortion I had 30 years ago, emphasizing my fear that such critical medical procedures could be increasingly restricted. There were no negative responses—until Facebook’s algorithm decided my entire feed should now be pro-life, tradwife, anti-abortion content. My community of writers, bookstores, and readers vanished overnight. It wasn’t readers who pushed back—it was the platform itself. That experience made me reconsider posting anything political ever again.
I’m not overtly political in my fiction, although I’m quite comfortable with giving my characters political views that reflect my own (on the liberal end of the spectrum.) If some readers genuinely like and identify with some of my characters, maybe those readers will feel even a bit more open-minded about real people with different views.”
How do we navigate a digital landscape where expressing our beliefs can cause an algorithmic backlash that warps our online presence? Do we avoid, mitigate in advance, or hold our breath?
This may be a tightrope of a personal-political decision, particular to each of us.
My (Personal) Guidelines: A KISS Approach
Wrestling with these concerns, I’ve created a personal set of guiding principles, borrowing from the “KISS” design principle (Keep It Simple, Stupid—a Navy principle from 1960):
- Spread awareness with ideas for action, not pure anxiety – I want to inform, not overwhelm.
- Freedom before popularity – I will work against diluting my convictions for the sake of broader appeal.
- Persuasion over pounding – Few can be bullied into changing their mind.
- Balance outrage with hope – Acknowledge injustices but also highlight progress and solutions.
- Engage beyond social media – Contact elected officials, read deeply, and participate in real-world activism.
- Invest in reliable journalism – Social media is an echo chamber; I must actively seek out (and pay for) trustworthy sources. And, even then, verify.
- Accept that I will sometimes fail – Some days, I won’t have the energy. That’s okay.
- Downtime is essential – For this, sitcoms rule. (Yes, Seinfeld counts as self-care.)
These rules aren’t perfect, but they help me navigate the world as an artist and a citizen. Like life, writing is about finding the balance between vigilance, work, and living purposefully.
Have you thought about how much to reveal yourself online (or on the page) politically—and have you come to any conclusions?
Randy Susan Meyers, author of six novels, including The Many Mothers of Ivy Puddingstone, has been featured in People, The New York Times, The LA Times, Washington Post, and more. Her books, translated into over thirty languages, earned an Indie Next Pick and were highlighted by Kirkus as among the ‘10 Best Books of the Year.’ The Massachusetts Council of the Book selected three of her novels as ‘Must Reads.’ Her books have been translated into over thirty languages.
Drawing from her experience with troubled youth, criminal justice, and bartending in Boston, Meyers writes about domestic drama, societal issues, and cultural nuances. A Brooklyn-Boston hybrid, she treasures family, friends, books, and NY bagels.
Randy, we have to talk bagels. I’m not trying to get into a fight here, but just to inform and persuade.
I moved from Brooklyn some time ago and despaired. In the rest of America, bagels are pale, insubstantial ghosts of the real thing. I suffered in the anti-bagel climate, which of course is really a coded contempt for New Yorkers in general, despite the fact that many New Yorkers do not eat bagels.
But lo, over time my suffering has eased. Proper, chewy bagels may be found in many places now, and in traditional flavors! No lavender bagels anywhere!
My point is that things change over time. Good bagels are good bagels, and slowly, slowly the truth spreads like cream cheese. Sticking to your beliefs means having faith. Do not despair. Good will prevail.
Ah, Benjamin, you do speak truth–here in Boston I live for the times I can get a sunflower seed bagel from Rosenfelds in Newton.
Hi Benny (and Randy):
The belief that the arc of history bends toward justice, articulated by Dr Martin Luther King, Jr., and embraced by President Obama, is reassuring until you’re in the middle of an inevitable backlash. Also, the idea that progress is slow but inevitable fails to address the question: do individuals possess inalienable rights? If so, why should they suffer through years or decades of exclusion and disenfranchisement until the majority “comes around?” To state one example: should women continue to die from denied medical care until a certain group of true believers realize that not sometimes an abortion is about saving a life?
I think anyone even vaguely acquainted with my posts here at WU knows my take on this issue. But Randy, you’ve done a really excellent job of laying out the various decisions one faces, the possible pitfalls, and a very practical but empowering set of principles to follow. Your KISS guidelines really resonated with me, and made clear specific things I’d not sufficiently considered. Thank you.
And for the record, I live a mere two hours from NYC and I can’t get a decent bagel to save my soul. That requires an outing to Houston Street’s Russ & Daughters.
Oops. Corrrection: To state one example: should women continue to die from denied medical care until a certain group of true believers realize that sometimes an abortion is about saving a life?
Thank you, David!
Ah, waiting for the bend is excruciating. I keep thinking about how McCarthyism led to the sixties–but what pain happened during the wait!!
Right there with you, Mr. Corbett. People will suffer, and that’s not right. It has never been right. Nor is it right to sit back and wait for change to happen. It won’t on its own, but my point is this: change does happen. Look back fifty years.
As for bagels, at least you live within reach of NYC, right? I’ll be back next week myself, and bagels are a #1 priority.
Totally with you, Randy. Up until this summer, I was careful to keep my politics private, the same way that I keep my family private and never post about them on social media. Partly it was a matter of privacy but partly, to be honest, as a non-important author who (I believed) couldn’t afford to lose any readers, I didn’t want to risk alienating potential readers/buyers.
That changed this summer, as you know. The election and everything that was at stake was just too damn important, so I outed myself. I joined groups, posted photos, did everything I could to declare what I stood for and whom I supported. It was a big turning point for me. I have done that for ten years in my personal life (e.g., because I have a choice, I will never—knowingly— patronize a business or hire a person who is a Trump supporter). But never on platforms where others could see. Until now.
Do I curate the political beliefs of the authors whose books I read? No. Would I read or not-read a book, based on the author’s values and political affiliation? Probably not, but who’s to say? Do I think I have lost readers because I’ve been clear and forthright about my own values? No idea. However, I have definitely unfriended people on social media because once you know something, you can’t un-know it.
What seems to work best for me is the same principle that works in other areas of my life (at this stage, anyway): to lift up what I admire and trust and value, rather than spending energy trashing the things I deplore.
The time for half-stepping is over. In recent weeks, I’ve canceled the Washington Post subscription, taken down my Facebook pages, and dropped X (Twitter). I’m not about to think that any of the aforementioned are, in some ways, helping more than hurting.
I’ve moved to Mastodon and Bluesky, where the color blue dominates, and creeps like Zuckerberg, Musk, and Bezos aren’t in charge.
Regarding writing to please, the one you need to please is your inner sense of worth.
What a brilliant mantra! “Lift up what I admire and trust and value, rather than spending energy trashing the things I deplore.”
Being on the sidelines feels as dangerous as being in the fray (to me) right now.
If life were only as simple as good guys and bad guys.
Oh yes–so much to weigh every day–every minute.
Writers can approach writing any way they please. They can be activist, passionate, subtle, disinterested, neutral, all in, whatever. Writer’s choice, always.
But readers can make choices, too, and if this reader gets a whiff of a political agenda–and I don’t care which side of the divide it’s on–I’m putting that book down. I want stories, good stories, not activism or advocacy for the cause du jour. I do not read to be instructed in the proper way to think about issues or life in general.
So, you can write whatever you please, however you please. Doesn’t mean your readers are going to enthusiastically consume it. Some will. Others will be turned off. I personally think there’s no faster way to ruin a good story than using it to press an agenda.
You do your thing, but when I’m a reader, I’m going to do mine, too.
Dear Beth,
You make a great point–readers and writers (and writers are generally both :)–make decisions on what they will read, and that freedom is paramount.
I must point out however that some extraordinary gripping novels have a social/culturual/political POV (though to make it an immersive page-turning, the belief system of the writer/charcters must be only an infusion, not a reason for the story.
Examples included GONE WITH THE WIND, which had a propulsive story, but was intensely infused with Margaret Mitchell’s (and the character’s) beliefs that slavery could be good, Black people in need of white peoples’ guidance, and anti-slavery advocates destructive.) I reread it recently (to see how the POV was handled and was amazed at the polemic.
Another example, from the other end of the spectrum, is the novels of Olivia Butler, who wrote novels that concerned themes of injustice, global warming, women’s rights, and political disparity–but in an undercurrent of page-turners.
As my grandmother said, there is a cover for every pot.
Well, in historical fiction, writers should try to slip into the mindset of people who lived during the time being depicted and present their world through their eyes. I believe GWTW falls into that category. Certainly I never assumed or even had the feeling that Mitchell held those views on slavery herself.
Writers of historical fiction should be able to enter the mindset of the people who lived during that time and depict their views honestly and appropriately to the time period. GWTW falls into that category, IMO. I never had the sense that Mitchell was using the characters as a vehicle to express her own opinions.
What I don’t like to see in historical fiction is the author putting modern ideas and sentiments into the minds and mouths of characters who would never have thought or said such things.
Oops, lost my original message and had to rewrite it. Sorry about the duplication. I do wish editing/deleting was allowed here.
This topic has almost as many beliefs and views on Margaret Mitchell and GWTW as there are blades of grass. :) I find reading about both the book and the author to be of interest–there is plenty out there!
I reveal myself through the characters I have chosen to write as main characters, but I don’t construct them with politics as a starting point.
The same way we acquire political beliefs as we grow, are exposed to the world, learn, and make our own decisions, whatever politics the characters have acquired come as they develop.
I’m aware of my own beliefs and biases – and use them lightly, and if appropriate, for my characters, because I deliberately do NOT have a narrator (me) overseeing the story and loudly and obviously proclaiming my views. But all characters are somehow part of ‘me’, and it has to show somewhere, often in the way characters treat others.
A character who is entitled and feels she’s better than other people can’t help showing that in her thoughts and her actions – even if she conceals those beliefs from expediency and because she’s expected to be ‘nice.’ Well-rounded characters are not completely self-consistent in their beliefs any more than the rest of us, but the more you know about a character, the less you will be surprised by their actions.
I keep it relevant to the story, but if you’re one of the entitled, it shows. Somewhere. If the character is liberal or conservative, it shows.
The incredible wonderfulness about reading/writing is how much we can choose the point of view we use, the slant we are giving our characters, and the way we choose to tell our story.
For me, I try to make sure that overriding it all is what Stephen King calls, “the gotta know.”
Thanks for the thought-provoking post, Randy. Some of my best writing has come when I assume the viewpoint of someone whose beliefs are contrary to my own. then realistically, thoughtfully showing the consequences of their actions. Besides being an effective way to tell a story and make a point, it also opens my heart to and increases my understanding of people I would otherwise dismiss as hateful, small-minded, or bigoted.
So true, Christine! I always remember this (something I learned working with criminals) : We’re all the star of our own show. And double that for our characters. :)
Personally, I don’t like the idea that people in any profession might have to repress their true feelings – political or otherwise – in order to be allowed to continue to do what they do. I think that’s just wrong. Obviously, shouting it from the rooftops in front of a group of people who totally disagree with you might not be wise, or… healthy. Yet, if that’s what you feel is right, then go ahead. It shouldn’t stop people from buying your books, listening to your music, looking at your art, hiring you to fix the plumbing, or using your register at the supermarket. Call me naive, but that’s how I feel.
I’m a woman who grew up as an army brat in the 1950s. Everything I told people I wanted to be when I grew up was laughed at. “You’re a girl. Girls can’t do that.” When I wrote my Army Brat Hauntings series about my childhood (I added ghosts for the fun of it), I included the character’s frustration with her parents’ putting limitations on what she could do. I also included a bit about her having her first period (heaven forbid!). It’s a memoir of sorts that I wanted to make appeal to those who care about women’s health and lives.
A bit ago, I was reading the comments on Stephen King’s “Holly” on a review site. Somebody had a comment that was approximately “blah, blah, blah, always with his Democrat stuff. Democrats are always trying to control us with their lockdowns about made-up pandemics. Spreading the Covid lies…”
Being congenitally unable to leave well enough alone, I responded with something like “Indeed, who would have thought that the man who wrote ‘the Stand’ would have opinions about vaccinations, masking, isolation or indeed pandemics in general?”
King has been extremely straightforward about his politics on social media. But you didn’t have to follow him to know them. How he felt about rich and poor, powerful and not, and, yes, pandemics is all right there in his novels.
I’m no Stephen King but to me “Should you share your politics?” isn’t the hard question, it’s “how could you avoid it if you wished to?”
Best summary of this topic yet. Love your final line. I don’t think I want to read an author who’s trying to avoid it. Kudos!
Perfectly said!
There’s a difference between a literary and a political mind. One explores truth, and often, fiction approximates truth better than nonfiction because it seeks to let the reader experience a context, to feel and think for themselves, while nonfiction often collects evidence in order to present the author’s conclusions.
A political mind has an agenda and has a hard time allowing anything to stand in its way. Salman Rushdie vs the Ayatollah is a prime example of the difference. My literary mind has to think and write honestly.
That said, there’s a real problem when members of the writing industry find it safest to ignore content and teach only technique and marketing, perhaps inadvertently creating great and popular writers who have nothing to say, like Joyce Carol Oates (gotta be honest).
And perhaps the literary mind can best write stories of the political-minded.
Well put. During the fifties, when Senator McCarthy held sway, comedians feared anything in their jokes that would be critical of the USA or capitalism. The compromise was jokes about women’s shortcomings. I often wonder if the bowdlerized version of American life presented in many books creates and reinforces the attitude that writers need to behave or, worse, become propagandists for a less-than-perfect reality.
I already hear too many writers talking about retreat—sticking to stories without context within our world. Of course, we all choose our own path, but illumination is needed also.
The problem is, this isn’t about politics. Not about which party offers the best policies for the good of the country and our people. Just like McCarthyism, it’s about choosing whether our country will become better with time or return to the bad old days of only white men having rights and everyone else viewed as second class citizens. Is this country a democratic republic or will we make possible a fascist regime? I for one do not favor a dictatorship, nor as a woman, do I want to lose the rights gained and finally become a full citizen of the country I love. People’s rights aren’t about politics. They’re about doing the right thing for all.
People’s rights aren’t about politics–what a wonderful phrase. Thank you.
The latest moves by Trump, unencumbered by anyone in his party or meaningfully by a functioning opposition, tell me we already have a dictatorship. Attacks on the free press and the loading up on X and Facebook of right-wing crazies having their say are a reality. How long places like Writer Unboxed will be available for free expression is something we need to be thinking about.
Oh, I so pray you are too pessimistic, Ray!!
I agree this is quite pessimistic (not that the times call for glib optimism). We do have an aspiring dictatorship, though the response by people, organizations, and judges, is only gestating. The “issue” about whether a forum without political clout such as Writer Unboxed will be closed down by politicians seems like something we should definitely NOT spend mental energy thinking about! That seems like pointless anxiety at a time when we need writers to focus on articulating reality.
I’m seeing an awful lot of what you call “pointless anxiety” on Bluesky and Substack. We use the internet. Taking a look at who had prime seating at the inaugural should undoubtedly give pause. Facebook, Amazon, Apple, X, Google, and the Washington Post owners were all there to support Trump. They weren’t there to assert and support your right to freedom of expression.