#BookTok to #BookToxic: Trigger Warnings
To what degree should authors censor their sensitive content?
I’d just gotten over the post-election mass cancellations happening within the online book world. No longer were my favorite influencers fighting for their lives in the trenches of social media; we were coming together once again as a unified reading community.
Then I was shot seven times by the Chloe Walsh controversy.
And as I lay there dying, I thought of Batman—the Christian Bale version of course.
You either die a hero (praised author) or you live long enough to see yourself become the villain (canceled author).
- Harvey Dent in The Dark Knight (2008)
Chloe Walsh is the author of the popular New York Times bestselling romance series, The Boys of Tommen. Her newest release, Releasing 10, the sixth installment of the series, made the rounds through book influencer platforms and sparked unexpected controversy.
Chloe Walsh's novels almost always come with trigger warnings. She’s known by her fanbase to never shy away from the ugly side of humanity, particularly when it comes to conversations about mental health.
Her books are categorized as romance, but they do more than the average read. They are a voice for mental health struggles, and growing up in traumatic environments. Releasing 10 is one of her most grisly reads thus far and includes sensitive content such as sexual assault, suicide, and child abuse.
When Releasing 10 first came out, people took to social media platforms to post their reviews. There was an uproar over the lack of trigger warnings available to them before they started reading. An odd criticism in my opinion as Chloe Walsh and her team not only included them in the physical book but also took to social media to post about the sensitive content ahead of time.
To me, trigger warnings were plentiful. To me, there was more than enough warning about the subject material. But for some, it wasn’t enough.
This presents an issue about how we as authors and publishing professionals handle trigger warnings. Perhaps the best course of action would be to create standard guidelines for trigger warnings, such as stating whether a sexual element is explicitly graphic or even adding some kind of specificity to honor the degree to which these triggers are present.
But where I have an issue with this is that it isn’t always in the hands of authors to perfect these trigger warnings unless they are self-published. Chloe Walsh started her career as an indie-published author, yes. She understands what probably needs to be included due to her background in the industry. But she’s traditionally published now, which means a lot of that responsibility should be taken on by her big-name publisher.
I would consider this social media post to be above and beyond for an author when it comes to trigger warnings because it also explicitly states how there isn’t a lot of control when it comes to formatting or where these trigger warnings are presented in the text because of the different distributors.
There’s a reason many people have gravitated toward the self-publishing industry in the last decade. It’s not a lack of success, although this is a very annoying, common misconception. There are plenty of successful self-published authors who rake in profits surpassing many traditionally-published authors. It comes down to autonomy and control of the work. It comes down to the publishing industry getting lazy, and how authors, whether debut or career, are starting to take on the brunt of these controversies.
Chloe Walsh, as well as many other authors, have little say in elements of formatting, cover design, and presentation of trigger warnings at a traditional publisher. This is just how big publishers work. However, every contract is different so we can’t say for sure the trigger warning was even something within Chloe Walsh’s power.
Walsh’s eyes were a single set of dozens on this manuscript before it hit bookshelves. Eyes from agents, editors, publishers, and ARC readers all saw it. Everyone’s job was to make sure the manuscript was up to par as well as ensure the front matter and back matter (copyright, author’s note, etc.) were done properly, and this includes the page dedicated solely to trigger warnings.
The next facet is that authors can’t help where these books end up or which shelves they occupy in bookstores. Marketing is a game. The goal—sell as many copies as possible. That’s it.
Some bookstores were noted to be stocking this novel on a new-release YA (Young Adult) table. A major snafu for anyone familiar with her work. But that wasn’t Walsh’s fault. As much as many of the characters are younger, she characterizes her books within a newer genre, New Adult, meaning 18 years and up. She has never marketed this series to high schoolers. She has always been straightforward these books were meant for an 18+ audience. If it happened to get into the hands of a 16-year-old, that’s not on her.
The final criticism was that reviewers believed she was “romanticizing abuse,” meaning she was idolizing the abuser and normalizing unhealthy, toxic relationships.
This was quickly struck down by Walsh herself in a statement to her followers on social media where she revealed this book was pulled from her experience as a victim of sexual assault.
As a writer who bases their fiction on personal experience, I sympathize with her. It’s not easy to scrap together the darkest facets of life and put words to it. But it is brave. And hard. And bound to ruffle feathers from people who claim to understand you but they don’t. The best you can do is create a character someone out there might resonate with.
Writers who address difficult topics such as abuse, sexual assault, or suicide, intentionally make it triggering because these topics are not supposed to be comfortable. Reading about them should make you squirm. And if a writer can cause a reader to have a visceral reaction, they’re doing a fantastic job.
Despite the controversy, many praised her ability to tell this story without sugarcoating it. Many of those readers also admitted to being victims of sexual assault themselves. I don’t find that to be a coincidence. People want to read stories of trauma because, as we’ve mentioned time and time again, many people read to be seen.
The world can be a scary, unsafe place. It’s not a fairytale.
You might be a reader who yearns for escapism and only wants to read books that are light or uplifting. Trust me, there is a space for you amongst the stacks. Genre fiction like cozy beach reads and food mysteries welcome you warmly. But Chloe Walsh’s platform is not meant for you.
But knowingly entering a dark space to then criticize it for being dark is not only a weak argument and an even weaker review of the material, but it also tells me you failed the reading comprehension part of the standardized test.
While a writer is instructed to know their audience, we cannot help if someone wants to join, especially with a massive platform like Chloe Walsh. Anyone can pick up her book at Barnes and Noble or buy it on their Kindle. This means the responsibility shifts to the reader, or the reader’s legal guardians, to know when something is not for them. And to be smart enough to decipher this.
Last year, I read a book far outside my comfort zone. At the time, I was actively trying to expand my genres for the sake of becoming a better writer. I picked up a literary fiction satire, Tampa by Alissa Nutting, and have since remained quiet about this book because it was…something. I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to talk about it because I was honestly a bit embarrassed to admit that I read this book.
Tampa is about Celeste, a high school teacher—although predator is a more accurate descriptor—who sparks an inappropriate sexual relationship with a teenage boy. The premise was unnerving, but it was known to be a bold read by many reviewers and literary idols in the writing field. Bold was what I was chasing at the time, so I started to read.
In the first pages, it’s apparent the reader is supposed to hate Celeste from the moment they meet her. She’s one of the worst main characters I’ve ever read. I vehemently hated her choices because she was a criminal, a wolf in sheep’s clothing, the lowest of the low. I also considered this to be a perfectly normal reaction to reading about a child predator.
But where her writing stood out was that I was physically sick the entire time. Nausea from experiencing and learning about something dark that I had never given much thought to. I knew it was happening somewhere in our world. But I didn’t really understand it.
That book opened my eyes to something I wish it hadn’t. It left a scar.
But from a literary standpoint, I can’t say that it was a bad book. It was terrible in that it was disgusting, but it was one of the most well-written, effective stories I’ve ever come across.
Please notice how my criticisms are solely based on the reading material. Not the author. Because this story is a work of fiction. A work of fiction that pulls from the darkest parts of our society, but it’s still fiction nonetheless. The author is not a criminal. Her character is.
I often joke with my husband that people need to read Tampa as a palate cleanser because nothing will faze a person after that one. My entire perspective on the world shifted. I came out the other side traumatized but informed. More equipped to protect others and myself.
Like Tampa, Chloe Walsh’s book is supposed to be triggering. It is and that’s fine. She knows it. I know it. No one’s trauma should be discounted. It’s okay to be triggered and sit in that emotion. So if that book brought out something ugly, that’s what the intention was. She was trying to get people to understand her experience as a victim of sexual assault and abuse.
However, it’s up to the reader to conduct their research and help themselves if the tools, such as trigger warnings, are provided. For example, if a person goes to therapy to learn coping mechanisms, the therapist will not place a bandaid on their trauma. Instead, they provide the bandaid for the patient to place it on themselves.
If they fail to use the tools and displace blame elsewhere, what they are doing is inflicting their trauma onto someone else. They are now causing the harm.
It was never Chloe Walsh’s responsibility to hold their hand. Her only responsibility was to provide a synopsis and a few trigger warnings at best. It ends there.
So, to all the people who chose to open that book and bully Chloe Walsh through email, calls, and death threats, please understand that it’s not another person’s responsibility to make you feel comfortable in this life. It’s yours.