Yes, the title is silly, but I’m actually trying to be insightful and introspective. In this blog, I dig into the morals and values that slip into writing and how I’ve come to approach them.
From the Writers’ Coffee Club
This whole thing came about because of a prompt on Mastodon from the #WritersCoffeeClub hashtag. Great group, lots of interesting insights, and a great way to think a little deeper about your writing each day. I highly recommend following it and participating if you’re so inclined.
Today’s prompt on this 11th of March 2026: Does your work reflect your morals? How so?
I started writing a response and as I ballooned past my character count, I decided that microblogging might not cover the complexity of my thoughts.
Does my work reflect my morals?
By and large I’d say it does. As many participants also said, individual characters certainly don’t have the same morals as I do, but the broad themes and takeaways often do. But I wanted to examine that a little more, because I think it’s a bit complex and it’s something I’ve given a lot more thought to recently. Especially as I’ve been working on my next book and making a lot of changes, in part due to some moral quandaries.
Before I get into those recent quandaries, let’s look at how I’ve used and subverted my morals in the past.
Moral messaging in Crown of Horns
I made a conscious choice in Crown of Horns to subvert some of my own morals and opinions. What do I mean by that and why would I do it?
Well, I had a villain and I wanted folks to be on her side, at least initially. To do that, I gave her opinions and morals that align with me and my worldview (and would align with any reader who shares it). I wanted people to resonate with her, to say, “Yeah, she’s right about that,” and then spin things to a dangerous place. Kind of a classic slippery slope fallacy that gets revealed over time. Here’s a concrete example:
Ishkara experiences trauma as the result of a long-held coming-of-age tradition. She speaks out against that tradition, highlighting the danger it imposes on youth. I can empathize with her trauma, and I would agree that subjecting youth to danger in the name of a tradition (cultural, religious, whatever the case) is morally wrong. Here’s where we’re aligned. Then, of course, this becomes a catalyst to say that all cultural or religious practices are wrong. That I can’t get behind, and I think most readers can see where the extension goes too far, even though it stems from a place where there may be more moral agreement.
Moral quandaries and artist responsibility
As I have been working away at my next book, I’ve played in a similar space. But I started to run into some trouble. Because the original ending that I wrote presented a moral position as being the “good ending” that I didn’t really agree with. I could understand the validity of it as an argument, but it was not something that I could stand behind and say, “Yes, that is my point of view.”
And as an artist, I do not think it is my job to push morals on others. If anything, I think that there is value in presenting a disagreeing argument (when done in good faith) in order to challenge oneself and others on their beliefs. My art may make people feel uncomfortable and I should not swerve away from that, so long as the people who consume my art consent to that. So, even if “the moral of the story” is not my own, I think that’s a valid path for my art to take.
But I changed it.
A voice in the void
I have one voice. I have a small audience.
I can find ways to challenge belief, prompt introspection, and question morality in a lot of different ways. I think, given the landscape of the world, that if I am to put my voice out into the void, then at the end of the day, I don’t want that voice to be interpreted as agreeing with a moral stance that is unaligned. Sure, my voice may be misinterpreted anyway, I may change my opinions, and I might miss the mark in the first place, but at least I can say that in the end, I tried to speak to my values.
There’s definitely still some complexity in my next work that doesn’t quite hit the mark, and I think still doesn’t fully represent my moral truth. But it’s better and closer and I’ll keep working at it.
If I am to throw my voice out into the void, it will at least be my truth. At least, as best as I can to speak it.
