Doesn't that book have a sex scene in it?

...on discernment, reading, and literary decisions

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I recently dusted off my box of American Girl books.

I, like many of you, grew up with the Molly and Samantha and the gang. Growing up in Madison, right next door to American Girl’s headquarters, made my love for the gals extra sweet. As a kid I was in focus groups for paper dolls and embroidered pillows; trips to the American Girl store in Chicago were a sweet treat every two years or so. I was a faithful magazine subscriber and dreamed of the day I’d work there (when it shuttered a couple of years back, I literally cried).

Partly inspired by the Dolls of Our Lives podcast, and partly spurred on by my history obsessed 6-year-old, we’ve been using some of the AG books for read alouds. We made it through the first three Molly books, Meet Kirsten, and now the 4-year-old is begging to read Meet Kit. I’m guessing it’s because of her purple sweater.

I told a friend who said her son loves history that I’d read the Molly books out loud to my kids, and her response was a slightly tepid, “Doesn’t she argue with her brother a lot?”

It reminded me of questions I get all the time when I recommend books.

“Isn’t there premarital sex in that?”

“Aren’t the parents divorced in that?”

“Doesn’t the kid sass in that?”

“Don’t they disobey their parents in that?”

In other words, isn’t there sin in that?

Isn’t there always?

Let me tell you something slightly embarrassing but 110% true: I used to love Sex and the City.

My best friend from high school introduced me to Carrie and the gang when we were around fifteen, and I borrowed her DVDs. If I found out my 14-year-old daughter was watching Samantha Jones be…Samantha Jones, I would not be thrilled. I’m not sure if my mom even knows this happened. Sorry Mom! In the spirit of honesty, I also snuck up the street to watch 8 Mile at Michaela Johnson’s house after you told me I couldn’t watch it.

I can’t lie, I do still long occasionally for the glitz and glamour of early 2000’s New York. Some of those episodes were hilarious, and some of them showed a genuine spirit of female friendship. But overall, I know I shouldn’t be watching Sex and the City. It’s kind of like a cigarette for me. Yeah, one won’t kill you, but once you start it’s hard to stop, and why do that when you could have a crisp glass of wine instead? I definitely didn’t watch the HBO revival and after seeing a handful reviews cross my Twitter timeline, I’d say I’m patting myself on the back for that decision.

However, just because something has sin in it doesn’t mean it’s total Carrie Bradshaw trash.

As a fiction author, I exist in a tricky place. I both want to convey the world how it really is, and want to point kids towards higher truths and beauty. I want to write for all kids, not just ones from nuclear Catholic families. I also want parents to feel like kids can read my books and not feel drawn towards sin. I want to succeed in a secular world that cheers many things I disdain, and I want to succeed in a Catholic world that gets mad when I write a 12-year-old who says “Oh, my God”’.

The recent conversation around banned books has been fascinating to me. When I see the titles of books listed, I sometimes cringe. I, too, don’t want my kids reading books with graphic sexual content at school. I, too, fear my kids being pushed into a culture that goes against deeply held belief systems of ours. I, too, want my kids to enjoy classic books.

But the other day as I perused my local bookstore, I found a copy of Crank by Ellen Hopkins*. That book is on many a banned book list. It’s fairly graphic. It deals with extremely heavy topics. And I can still see my 13-year-old self, wide eyed, reading it backstage of a musical I was in using a flashlight to see the chapter headings. It exposed me to the dark underbelly of addiction and grief, and it showed me despair in a way I hadn’t seen it written on a page. It was, to be honest, a formative reading experience.

Do I want my kids reading it? Yes. And no. It terrifies me, and yet—I want them to have that backstage experience. I want them to see the frightening parts of the world in a safe place—a book—and be able to ask me about it. I want them to walk tenderly into the world alongside an author, not hear the word “crack” and think “huh? What’s that? Sure, I’d love some!”

Every great story has some sin in it. Perfect characters make for a dull tale. I want to read good books, and I want my kids to read good books.

Read Flannery O’Connor and see how often she’s on banned book lists. Brideshead Revisited, the great Catholic classic? Um, hello, affair-with-a-married-person.

What if we shifted our question from if there’s sin to, how is that sin dealt with? Does the book point towards hope, truth, beauty? Or does it glamorize and celebrate sin? Does the book show real consequences? Or does it point towards an untruth? (I would also say there’s a real argument to be made for adults with fully-formed brains to read books pointing towards untruths. How are you going to articulate arguments against positions you’re unfamiliar with?)

Look, you have the gift of discernment. You also have Google. You probably know what you should or shouldn’t be reading and watching. Gilmore Girls isn’t full of upstanding morality, but I watch it and feel fine about it; the sin isn’t The Point and you often see some very real consequences from the characters’ less-than-perfect actions. Sex and the City, on the other hand, had to go.

Here are four things I’d consider when discerning if you’re watching/reading something you’re unsure about:

• Why am I feeling anxious about this? (Am I being prudish, or is this actually dipping into unhealthy territory? Does past trauma in my life make me specifically susceptible to particular sins like lust?)

• Who could I ask for spiritual guidance on this? (A spiritual director? A trusted mentor? If you’re too embarrassed to even bring something up, that might be a sign.)

• What is something I might miss out on by not consuming this media, and could I get it elsewhere? (IE., I actually really loved the prettiness of Sex and the City…if you’ve seen the show, you’ll understand! But there are other beautiful shows about New York I can watch.)

• Do I feel like I need to go to confession after reading/watching this? (If you’re unsure, you can always bring it up in confession and just ask the priest!)

That brings me to something I’m nervous about: my very own fiction.

I wrote a children’s novel about sexual harassment in middle school. I wrote it because it happened to so many of us. I wrote about it because the Lord put it on my heart. I wrote it because I wanted to. And yet, I’m worried that Catholics will read it and think I’m being scandalous. It often gets branded by the publisher as a “#metoo middle grade” and part of me cringes, wanting to whisper, Yes, you guys, I know, there are problems with the #metoo movement and also progressive culture goes against Catholic sexual ethics that I believe in and and and and…”

I’d like to free myself from these stupid fears. My book has sin in it, because kids deal with sin and commit sins. Because our *lives* have sin in them. My book also talks about how to handle those sins, gives grace to perpetrators, and empowers young girls with a spirit of autonomy and kindness and courage.

For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline. - 2 Timothy 1:7

Books are not meant to be sappy, bland places to put kids to sleep. They’re meant to be cherished companions as we walk through life. I’m proud of this book. So: if you’re interested in a middle grade story about sexual harassment, its causes, and its consequences, feel free to check out What Happened to Rachel Riley, my latest novel for kids ages 9-14. It comes out in January and is available for preorder now—you can learn more about it here.

When it comes to what you read, and what your kids read, remember that the mere presence of sin shouldn’t be enough to shelve something. Spoiler alert, Bridget and Eric totally have sex in Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, and I still believe 5000% that that book should be required reading for any teenage girl. The same way Charles and Julia cheating on their spouses in Brideshead Revisited makes it no less of a phenomenal classic. And yes, Molly and Ricky bicker in Meet Molly. Your kids will be fine.

The question of a book that points towards truth isn’t whether or not there’s sin in the story. It’s how the effects of the sin impact the world around the characters, how the sin is responded to, and where the grace shines through.

Books are probably not pulling you into Hell. And if something is, well, the library’s return box is right there.

*Slightly off topic, but if you, too, were a teen in the 2000s who lived a ridiculously privileged life but feel like you read a large amount of dark books…hit me in the comments. Wintergirls, anyone? Cut? The Body of Christopher Creed? Violet & Claire? Katie.Com?

On My Nightstand 

• Into Thy Hands by Fr. Wilfred Stinissen: My spiritual director had me read this, and…I’m mulling it over. I have complicated feelings about it! If you’ve read it, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. It’s all about radical abandonment to God’s will.

• The Grieving Daughters’ Club by Andrea Bear: I was fortunate to get sent this beautiful novel by the author. It deals with grief, grace, and grit. If you’re walking through the loss of your mom, I can’t recommend it enough!

• What Afghans Want the Rest of the World to Know: I know the world has a lot going on. It literally always does. Ukraine, Iran—so many things to discuss, so many nations to care for. But please don’t stop talking about Afghanistan. “Afghanistan is, once again, the worst place in the world to be a woman.

  I asked her: What did she hope would happen now? ‘Hich omid nist,’ she said. There is no hope.”

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In case you missed these Letters:

• A Dual Vocation - for everyone

• How Jen Hatmaker Lost the Plot - for subscribers

• Our Roundtable With Abigail Favale - for subscribers

  

This season, The Catholic Feminist is fundraising to help end trafficking with the Laura Vicuna Foundation. This project provides a safe place for the healing + recovery of girls who have been abused or trapped in trafficking, and it prevents future abuse by identifying children in need, offering medical assistance, raising awareness and teaching family life skills.