Where have all the happy books gone?

Once upon a time, I would count down the days until my monthly audible credits for audio books and when I would mark the calendar for releases of the latest book release in about a dozen series I was reading. Not so any more. I have credits piling up, waiting for me to use them. I have gift cards languishing waiting to be converted into literary adventures. I learn about the new releases months later through the ‘recommended for you’ page. What happened to me?

The truth is I am afraid of books. They grab a hold of me and suck me into a vortex of terror, anguish and fascination. I can’t put them down. I stay up too late. When I had a job, I would occasionally skip a day of work. And even when I wasn’t reading, I was still preoccupied with the story so that I was just coasting through life while my brain was elsewhere. Even worse than the addiction, were the mood changes. When I read a story where the POV character is in constant danger, my mood takes a down swing and I can actually head into a mini depression over it. I had to stop reading several epic fantasy series because of this. Now, when I get a new book, it might sit in the queue for a while before I get up the nerve to read it. So where did this sudden aversion to reading come from? I think it has to do with the tone of books that are available today. Even series that begin in a light hearted way such as Harry Potter seem to eventually go over to the dark side.

So where are the happy, inspiring books? Why do books always have to be about the darkest parts of human nature? Remember to the classics where the worst event may be a death by heart attack or an unsanctioned marriage (Anne of Green Gables, and Jane Austen books) yet millions of people still read these books. My favorite romance of all time is between Anne and Gilbert, but they never even kiss. And I am not a prude either. I enjoyed all of Sookie Stackhouse’s romps as much as the next girl but that kind of thing doesn’t feed the soul. I think current books lack a wholesome, feel good sort of nourishment. We’ve gone too far in the other extreme with sex and violence.

I heard recently that books/movies are a way to teach a person how to react in a situation. So watching a horror flick teaches you how to handle fear. Not necessarily the actions of the characters, but your own physical experience of adrenaline and decision paralysis. I think heard this on Writing Excuses. (Love that podcast!) Anyway, so if we can teach people how to experience fear, worry, horror, sadness, why can’t we teach them all the other things to? I am not talking about pleasure and happiness, but things like making the right decision (even though it was hard), and being rewarded for it. Too often in current entertainment, we take the ‘no good deed goes unpunished’ approach and all good people are trodden on. (Look what happened to Eddard Stark, all for helping out his friend). It seems like the lesson is if you’re a good person, you will be punished. White hat characters are out of fashion. Everyone is ecstatic about grey characters and I understand the need to get away from strictly black and white characters, but like everything else, there are varying degrees of greyness. Not every bad character has to start out good and go bad. Not every good man has to be tempted into evil or be ruined because he resisted. Sometimes characters are white and always do the right thing and sometimes people are just plain bad. Not every character has to be some shade of grey. I think this urge to mix everything up has taken away the contrasts and left us with the muddy color which is about as satisfying as blending your ice cream sundae with a liverwurst sandwich. So let’s step back a little and let a few characters be white or black and get what they deserve. You know who does this well? Joss Whedon.

Think about Firefly. Simon makes the tough but right choice to sacrifice his comfortable life to save his sister. There is nothing twisted about their relationship, but an honest to goodness sibling love and loyalty. He is a good character (but not perfect) and in the end he and his sister are free. Kaylee is upbeat and loveable. Sometimes bad things happen to her, but it never destroys her and in the end she gets what she wants. Captain Tightpants tries so hard to be a dark man, but always does the right thing. Wash…sad. But he died in his moment of triumph. There was no endless torturing of the audience making us feel hopeless, horrible and helpless. No, his death was clean and the remaining characters felt the grief for us so we could shed a few tears and move on with life. I could go on about Firefly/Serenity forever, but my point is that there is enough of the wholesome meat of life in the story to develop a near cult following despite its short run. Imagine how differently you would feel if Wash had died during torture and Zoey had turned bitter. What if Mal and Inara got their lust on right away and never felt anything deeper? What if they never managed to reform Jayne, but left him the bastard he was and eventually had to shoot him? Hard to imagine, but it happens in so many stories where the instant arousal of emotional response of with sex, death or damnation has replaced the more real feelings of love, loss and eventual triumph. This, I think is the root of my dread of modern books. They torture and wrangle me without the payoff of the deeper feelings.

Anyway my challenge to all you F and SF writers out there. How about some meaningful, inspiring stories that don’t involve the end of the world or the maiming of any of your characters? I include myself in this challenge because my stories are as dark as the rest. Oh, and please stop destroying the world/life as we know it. Apocalypse is dead. (Haha!)