Why do you read what you read, and write what you write?

I’ve been thinking about this question a lot in 2016. Remember back in January, when I posted about trying to choose between Mr. Fiction and Mr. Nonfiction? And how it took me over eight months of working on a nonfiction project before I was able to clear the path to focus on fiction and memoir? Committing to one or two forms of writing, like committing to a reading genre, is difficult for me. But one of my biggest takeaways from 2016 (something I realized while writing for this DIY MFA post) is a renewed focus on fiction, and specifically historical fiction.

I began writing historical fiction for one simple reason: I liked it. I liked reading it, I admired the authors who wrote it, and I especially liked learning about history while enjoying the characters in the story. “Liking it” was a good enough reason to get me this far. But something happened a few weeks ago that made reading and writing historical fiction more important. It’s now become more of a mission or a calling, something I’m committed to on a much higher level. The thing that triggered the change was the election of Donald Trump.

I’ve written about my post-election feelings here. (It’s already one of the most-viewed posts ever on this site.) This was a history-making election, a complete game-changer. If Hillary had won (and in my mind, she technically did), history would have had its first female president of the United States, but little else would have changed. We’d continue to have a Democratic president and a Republican congress. Policy would not have made any great shift. The electorate, though shaken up by Trump’s campaign, would have settled into another four years of essential sameness. Most of us would feel safer. History would not have marked us; textbooks make little of stasis.

Instead, we have an election, and a president, that has changed everything we know about ourselves as Americans and our position in the world.

And that’s why historical fiction matters so much more now. We need to explore other times of great turmoil and change. We need to study how the citizens of those times adapted and created positive change of their own. We need the perspective of remembering other great shifts between forces like populism, ethnocentrism, and morality in leadership.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my characters from BEFORE THE FIRE (previously WAIST) during the last few weeks. One of my main characters, Hannah, becomes a passionate advocate for the union during the course of the book. She grows increasingly disturbed by small injustices, such as having her bag searched every night for theft, and being locked inside the factory during the day (one of the factors that led to so many deaths in the Triangle Fire). Her simmering anger is ignited by an attack on one of her union idols, and just days later, she finds herself leading a strike at Triangle. If I took Hannah out of 1909, and dropped her in 2016, she’d be a role model for those of us who are feeling the injustice of this election. She’d be writing petitions, calling congresspeople, and participating in protests. It’s comforting to me that people like Hannah (and though she’s fictional, she had many real-life counterparts during the Progressive Era) exist in all time periods, helping us get through situations like the one we’ve found ourselves in.

And so I’m writing historical fiction not just because I like doing it. I’m writing it for you. You, who feel disenfranchised. You, who feel hopeless. You, who wonder where we go from here. I’m writing it to show you other times in history when we have overcome. I’m writing it to give you role models to look up to: real historical figures, and characters you can connect to.

I’ll be writing more about this mission in the coming days and weeks, but for today, I’d like to ask my initial question again.

Why do you read what you read, and write what you write?

And why does it matter?