I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of talk about sensitivity reading. Maybe you’re even a little wary of the whole idea! Granted, it can be scary to open yourself up to criticism of any kind, and doubly so when that criticism is on topics that are so extremely important to your readers and your community.
To help dispel some of that fear, as part of a multi-site dive into sensitivity readers and the work they do, I’m going to tell you about what it was like being sensitivity read – painful revelations about my failings & all. Even better, I’ve brought along my reader Sophie (she/her) who is going to tell you her side of the story!
Sophie helped me navigate the writing of a piece of fiction where gender identity was a major theme. She used her insight as a trans woman not only to make my story the best version of itself, but to help me better understand my own character.
Check out the previous two posts by Alexa and E.J!
First thing’s first: What is the benefit of sensitivity reading?
Sophie:
I think that ultimately the purpose and value in sensitivity reading comes from two predominant sources.
First, having a sensitivity reader for issues that many consider personal, painful, and sensitive can really help your story to be more accessible to the communities which your story includes or speaks to the experience of. A lot of people in these groups use media and fantasy as a means to escape or explore the oftentimes crushing and isolating lived experiences they have, one of which for many is experiencing ignorance and stereotyping.
I can say personally that when a piece of media includes something that is transphobic, whether intentional or not, I am immediately forced to have a strained and awkward relationship with that piece of media, weighing my discomfort and frustration with that content versus the rest of the book, show, or movie.
Even if I end up liking a lot of the rest of the other content shown it becomes much harder to recommend or continue through with enjoying it.
Secondly, I think sensitivity reading provides writers with the opportunity to ensure they are not misrepresenting their characters or themselves. Many people who aren’t personally familiar with sensitive issues like the trans experience or race and racism desire to write stories about these issues and portray them in a positive or significant manner. This is of course, wonderful, but you run into problems when the amazing trans character you were trying to write actually ends up feeling and reading like an uncharitable and harmful stereotype to the actual trans people in your audience.
If your character is meant to be heroic and empathetic it’s probably going to create a lot of confused dissonance for your audience if that character says something implicitly racist and you don’t realize. Naturally, this potential for miscommunication and unintended harm extends to the author themselves. I think the last thing any author wants is for their work to portray them in a way that doesn’t actually line up with their beliefs and values.
Alex:
Sophie made some excellent points there, and the issue of unintentional messages coming through is particularly poignant. Here’s what happened in my case – and as I say this, I get a nervous flutter in my stomach. It’s hard to talk about how we mess up, isn’t it? And that’s a huge part of the reason why people are frightened of criticism.
What happened in my case is that one of the major themes in an action-packed SF story was gender identity. My character was based very much on my own past, so the formative memories and struggles included were easy to collect coherently; but after that, I was on shaky ground.
My intention was to have a positive, uplifting arc. Without Sophie’s input, I would have completely ruined that vision by accidentally implying that trans people have to undergo physical changes in order to be valid – and I promise you, that was absolutely not what I had intended to say.
I was surprised at how easily that message slipped in between the lines, and I would never have caught it on my own. I simply didn’t know enough.
The story is still far from perfect, as am I. I realize that. I’m learning; we all are. But, with Sophie’s help, it’s a lot closer to being the positive image I had intended.
What’s the experience like?
Sophie:
I think it was a really interesting, at times challenging, but also rewarding experience.
I think the most difficult thing about it from the sensitivity reader’s side is worrying about ‘nit-picking’ or asking for changes that might fundamentally shift the author’s narrative or characters in a significant way, or coming off…well…too sensitive. As stupid as that sounds, it was definitely a thought that kept creeping up a lot. Especially when from personal experience, one of the most common dismissals of outcry and demand for better treatment around trans issues is that ‘we’re just being too sensitive’ about everything.
After I got over that though and you reassured me that it was totally okay to give my real thoughts on anything in the story and that you wanted to change things if it meant for a better narrative, then it became a lot easier.
I think once you really get into it, it’s a super rewarding experience to feel like your feedback is informing change in a positive way and that you’re helping a talented author portray their narrative more faithfully to their actual intentions.
I definitely don’t understand the stigma around sensitivity reading. If anything, I personally considered it a really exciting opportunity that I was really proud to be a part of.
Alex:
Challenging but rewarding is right on my end, too. I won’t lie, sending a story out and awaiting the results is nerve-wracking—and I’m an editor. I give/receive critique all the time. Heck, I’ve even done sensitivity reading myself.
My irrational fear was that I’d somehow accidentally gotten it so wrong that not only would the entire story need to be discarded, Sophie would get mad at me.
It makes no sense, because she was there to help and support me, but you can’t reason with fear. Maybe talking about it will help others see that it’s okay to be scared, and it’s okay to keep going in spite of the fear.
Once we started actually talking about what needed improving and I saw how she was as keen to make my story better as I was, all the fear melted away. You can believe she’s getting a glowing recommendation if she wants to set up a business or join one of the existing sensitivity reading associations.
What are we looking for when sensitivity reading?
Sophie:
I think it’s difficult to speak generally to this one as every issue is different and every reader has a vastly different perspective, even if they’re reading for the same type of content (which is why I would say if you’re serious about your story to get multiple readers to look at the sensitive content in question).
As for me personally, the things I was most looking for in reading over your story were accurate portrayals of the trans experience by the protagonist, whether anything written played into harmful or negative narratives or stereotypes about what it means to be trans, or anything else that whilst not transphobic in its content directly could be upsetting or triggering to readers. I think probably the clearest example from what we worked on was shifting the ending of your story a bit to make sure the conclusion of the narrative didn’t have a transmedicalist slant, since the last thing I think you were trying to say in your story is that trans people need to be fixed and medical or physical transition is the only way to be valid.
The goal ultimately to me is to have the writing fall in line with the goals of the story, the values of the author, and what readers will fill positive or acceptable portrayal.
You do have to keep some things in mind about the intentionality of the story for sure. Again using the example of your story there are several points where I felt the protagonist said something that could’ve been seen as a misunderstanding or misinterpretation of trans experiences, but these comments were all made from the perspective of someone largely very new to what it even means to be trans; someone still exploring their identity, who has only just settled on their identity recently. Of course, they don’t have all the gender theory, trans-positive political, and ideological framework of someone whose been trans for a much longer time than this.
Alex:
For me, the main goal is “do no harm”. That’s the beginning and the end, isn’t it?
I’ve read so many stories where I was let down because the author clearly thought women were disposable, or immigrants were a problem, or Romanian people were all filthy thieves. What’s the point of putting more of that hatred out into the world, even by accident? Especially when we’re talking about potentially hurting the ones among us who have already been hurt so much.
Sure, I also want my character to feel real. I want them to make mistakes, but in a way which makes sense to who they are. I want them to showcase our understanding of the human experience, and that means I have to have that understanding first.
Long-term, the goal is to have the tools and resources on hand that will allow me to write gorgeous, full, diverse characters. Living in fear of the unknown is never the answer, nor is writing every story using the cast of Friends; or worse, writing diversity poorly and risking doing damage to all the progress we’re making. The way forward is a combination of taking risks and relying on our communities for help and guidance, and isn’t that just the way of most things?
Parting thoughts:
Alex:
Something else I only fully grasped through this story is that being Trans isn’t a matter of choice. It isn’t about making a choice to be the gender you want to be; it’s about the fact that you are who you are and always have been, often in spite of society telling you you’re wrong. The only choice is whether to live that truth, often at great personal risk.
Now that I understood this on a deeper level, through the experience of being sensitivity read, I realize how often even well-intended cis allies say things like “I support your right to be whoever you choose to be”; and it’s so unfortunate to see good intentions flounder like that.
So, for me, whether this story gets sold or not, the entire experience is a massive personal win. Even if it had gotten relegated to the junk drawer, it still would be.
We need to learn more. We need to listen more, and the privilege of having a story sensitivity read is something we should all be taking advantage of. The end result in our case was a better story, and hopefully, a slightly better me.
Sophie:
I guess my final thought would be an appeal to the writers out there.
Please don’t be afraid of making use of sensitivity readers. I realize it can feel personal when someone wants to come in and tell you your writing is racist or transphobic or romanticizes suicide or any other number of issues; but ultimately the reason sensitivity readers exist is to improve your story and to make sure nothing you’re putting out there misrepresents you, your characters, or the purpose of your narrative. It’s in your best interest always that these readers give you this feedback.
Once you get past the ego of feeling defensive or villainized for content included in your stories is the moment you can really start improving and enhancing the way you handle various types of content in your books. Racism, sexism, homophobia, transphobia, whatever the issue the reader is not pointing these things out to call you a bad person.
We live in a culture where these things are taught to us at a fundamental level, before we’re even old enough to understand these concepts we’ve already been taught ideas that play into them.
The sad reality is that no one is free of these things, not even the communities who these harmful ideas target, not even me! I think that’s one of the most important things to realize about the purpose of sensitivity reading. We can all be doing better in this regard.
