Why I'm looking for a Sensitivity Reader

Sometimes we Mess Up (Big Time).

Every author dreams of having someone express strong opinions about their work.

No one wants anyone to read their book and go, meh.

Last year, around May, I learned that having someone say, "meh" was what Shakespeare might describe as a "quality of mercy" (it's worth pointing out this quote comes from the Bard's most problematic play, The Merchant of Venice: even Shakespeare was not averse to controversy; though, that one was quite intentional, and I can't condone that play.)

(I'm also not comparing myself to Shakespeare. My god, never. If Shakespeare was kicking about to some of my books, I'm sure his brain would melt like ice cream and not in a good way.)

On a serious note, I'd like to talk about why I'm looking for a sensitivity reader. This post should not be read in any way as "virtue-signalling" but -- arguably even worse -- me attempting to explain a controversy where I acted rather stupid. Or rather, very stupid. That's right, I'll admit to being an idiot. I, also in this case -- and in many other cases -- was a complete arsehole. Not even a lovable arsehole. An actual arsehole. I don't want anyone reading this to focus on me as a person -- specifically not on any idea of me undergoing some kind of benevolent moral journey -- I'd much rather you be persuaded by what I'm arguing for: sensitivity readers are good. Of course, that doesn't take away from the idea that I'm an arsehole.

I'll begin at the beginning...

My book In Bloom took me roughly a year to write (between Summer 2019 and Spring 2020, ending right before the first UK Coronavirus lockdown). This was a dark and negative book coming off a much more positive novel -- Realm, with its underwater dreams and fantasies. I knew In Bloom was always going to be controversial: its story of virgins being sacrificed to the town dragon. The pitch was American Pie meets The Call of Cthulhu, and both of those are very controversial in their own right. Hence, this book was going to be a tricky tightrope. What concerned me the most was that, after writing this, I'd start hearing the cries of "incel"; this could only happen if I wrote a dour, super-serious novel about young men agonizing over not getting laid and facing imminent death as a result. In fact, someone I recently reached out to for a sensitivity read told me the story (after I gave them a synopsis) would be inherently misogynist. I'm quite proud the negative review I received, and the one that prompted this post, described the book as having "hints of feminism".

That's exactly the point. What I wanted to do was write a book which described how such a system -- of boys going around town, desperate to "lose their innocence or die", as the title says -- would harm women just as much as men. That system would put such an incredible and anguished burden on women and, as the book depicts, many of them would face the very worst kind of malevolence as these boys endeavoured to avoid the sacrifice. I'm not an idiot. Well, I am an idiot. But I at least know that systems, like the one depicted in the book, harm women to a massive degree, and that's something I desperately wanted to depict.

My feminism is quite complex. I'm not a card-carrying member of the Feminist Society, as I was back in 2014 when I wrote Eldritch Nights (hence that book's opening), but I do have the foresight to recognise patriarchal systems that harm and destroy women. I mean, that's common sense -- acknowledging that these things exist.

Ugly as the book's ending is -- the depiction of all these boys desperate to lose their virginity by indulging in gang rape -- I felt it was necessary to show the horrific misogyny which would result from such a horrible system.

I was also desperate to avoid a self-pitying, super-serious story which would have these anguished boys languishing. That to me would just be inviting the "incel" label; again, this was something I wanted to avoid (naturally). Hence, the reason for the jokey tone and abuse of the German language.

So just my luck, I get a one-star review from someone German. I thought they would describe the book as being an "incel" novel, and initially -- before reading the review -- I wasn't surprised. I knew the book would be misinterpreted.

Then I read the review, which was indeed well-written and powerfully argued, and, to my absolute horror, they did not accuse me of being an incel; they found something even worse. You see, I'd used so many bastardizations of the German language in the book, all the while trying to avoid the "incel" label, and part of that meant trying to find a word which meant "chad" but didn't have the stupid incel connotations. So I settled on the word "ubermensch" without really knowing the history behind it. This was colossally stupid mistake.

They didn't accuse me of being an incel. They accused me of being a Nazi. You see, strong boys in the book are described by other boys as being "ubermensches". Basically, where the word "chad" would be used, the word "ubermensch" is used instead. When the boys about to be sacrificed are carried to their deaths, the townspeople describe them as "ubermensches", implying the boys have finally become useful to the town. The word is used in a positive sense, but by residents of a dystopia, and if one becomes an "ubermensch" in the book, it means they are either a strong and cruel boy or a boy who will soon die and has become heroic by virtue of death.

The reviewer's exact words were that they thought I could get away with "FUCKING NAZI LANGUAGE". To me, at the time, this wasn't Nazi language.

That said, I'll admit to not knowing everything about the Nazis. This is both a good thing and a bad thing. I know about the Holocaust, something which outraged me (as it should everyone) from an early age. There is absolutely nothing worse one can be than a anti-Semite and, as everyone knows, the Nazis were the worst antisemites and mass-murderers of all.

However, I know very little about Nazi culture and their propaganda; for example, not knowing exactly what Wagner's music appealed to Hitler or how the Nazis used romantic tropes to extoll German values. Of course, I've educated myself now and reading about this felt as painful as self-surgery. The amount of romantic tropes I used in the book now fill me with this weird feeling. On the one hand, I'm horrified that my book reads like a Wagner opera; on the other hand, the book depicts an ugly and nasty society, and I feel like the romantic tropes add to the sick feeling one should experience when being in that kind of society.

I read this review, and all I saw was the stuff about "Nazi language" and how I'd allegedly "used something in the book Hitler was promoting", the latter part of which I didn't understand at all and, to be honest, still don't. The word "ubermensch" isn't used in connection to race or having pure blood, whatever the author of that review says.

They also called me out for the transgender character, and that's another issue entirely. I, personally, think the book is very progressive on that front. Jo identifies as a boy, and the reason the book doesn't end with them killing the dragon is because that isn't important, the book ends with the butterflies identifying Jo as a boy; the most powerful forces in the book have agreed that Jo is a boy.

The reviewer called me out for having another character mistake Jo for a boy early on in their segment, and I'll agree, that was extremely clumsy on my part. I was desperate to have a positive trans message. I want to be progressive on that front. That also tied into my anti-incel message.

I learned from the review, and rewrote large sections of the book, removing the word "ubermensch" and having Jo's transition be made more complex and realistic.

That wasn't before, though, I went off at the reviewer in the Goodreads comment section. Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid. I just wanted to send a clear message that I hated Nazis. Was that so bad? Yes it was. It looked like me bullying a bad reviewer. That's not what I wanted. I desperately didn't want Nazis flocking to this book. That doesn't excuse my actions: I was an arsehole, using all-caps and being so fiery. I didn't insult them personally but I used a tone that was completely inappropriate. I talked about people from country dying fighting Nazis and how I walked past the war memorial in my town every day when I was a kid; these things are true, but I shouldn't have said them in a Goodreads comments section.

I deleted the comments and am ashamed of them. My dilemma was that if people didn't see me reacting like that, they would think I was a Nazi and that I didn't care. My response should have been something like, "thank you for raising these concerning issues, I will correct them". Instead, I was just an arsehole.

I haven't issued an apology to them for this reason: I don't want them to see my name flash up on their notifications and for them to be triggered. What I did, using all caps like that, saying I'M NOT A FUCKING NAZI, was engage in online abuse. It wasn't right. It was stupid. I'd like this to be my apology.

What I don't want is my fans -- or my one fan -- to go after this reviewer. Their review is still up and you can agree or disagree. I've always believed in free speech and that reviewer is absolutely free to speak their mind and raise these legitimate concerns. Their review was well-written, and came from a genuine and sincere place. The idea that people reading this would grab their pitchforks and torches is horrifying; they should be able to engage with that review and either agree or disagree. I wish the reviewer well, and I'm sure they're good enough hearing without me for a while.

That brings me to my much belated point. I want a sensitivity reader. I need a sensitivity reader. If having one is the difference between labelled a Nazi, then yes please, gimme, gimme. I know some authors think it's censorship but my god, my god in heaven, I'd rather have a book that's censored to pieces, then have it be catnip for Nazis. I'm sure anyone can understand that.

Please don't think I'm virtuous by writing this. I'll openly admit to being an arsehole. A conflicted arsehole -- an arsehole who doesn't take pride in being an arsehole-- but an arsehole, nonetheles. I wish I could have done things differently, but life don't have a reverse button. It's not too late, however, to make sure this book can't harm people.

If you'd like to offer sensitivity services, please contact me. I may be an arsehole, but I'm professional when it comes to business and can offer a flat rate.

RALPH BURTON