Hot take: Trigger warnings are awesome. Specifically, they’re one of the most wasted and maligned opportunities to connect directly with your readers.
A trigger warning, or content warning, is a short heads up at the start of a book letting readers know what they’re in for. It’s not a spoiler—just a loose “speak now or forever hold your peace” before readers say “I do.” Topics mentioned in trigger warnings often include graphic violence, sexual assault, and self-harm.
Man, I’ve seen a lot of “me-TOUGH-guy” caveman-ass takes on trigger warnings, à la “life doesn’t come with trigger warnings.” I’m not gonna fall into the trap of explaining why it’s worthwhile to be kind.
But I’ve also seen plenty of more genuinely expressed skepticism and sincere concern. Does my book “need” a trigger warning? If so, why? What specifically do I “have to” put into it?
To these folks, I’d just reframe the question: You’re a writer. A person who excels at creativity. Given “trigger warning” as a prompt, what could you do with it? More than ever, letting readers know there’s a human writing their book is crucial. How could you use a trigger warning to put your authorial self, your voice, right up front?
Ask not what you can do for your trigger warnings, but what your trigger warnings can do for you.
I consider writing a banger trigger warning almost akin to the challenge of nailing a query letter. A few authors are real wizards at it. Think about how these examples help connect you to the author. They’re not dry laundry lists of what to expect. They’re a memorable greeting, a handshake with a wink.
Brynne Weaver’s Trigger Warnings
Brynne Weaver’s Butcher & Blackbird is a spicy dark romantic comedy about two vigilante killers falling for each other. (It’s fine, they only kill bad guys.) Given the genre blend, most folks should know roughly what to expect. But my first impression of Brynne Weaver was this trigger warning, and it made me a fan even before I got to the book itself. Half the triggers are teasers as much as warnings. The list alone is cheeky, voice-y, and sets the stage.
Nat Cassidy’s Trigger Warnings
Nat Cassidy gets it. His trigger warning for When the Wolf Comes Home was also my first-ever impression of him as an author.
Opal Reyne’s Trigger Warnings
Opal Reyne writes (very) open-door monster romance books. Her trigger warning for A Soul to Keep, the first in her Duskwalker Brides series, is short, sweet, and effective. It drops you right into the tone and energy of the content to follow.
There’s always room for nuance.
This is a short blog highlighting the enormous potential I see in trigger warnings as an adult editor, writer, and reader of horror, sci-fi, and monster romance. I’m aware there’s other conversations to be had here. I think this topic is especially interesting in light of shifting cover art trends. Context is also a big factor. The book’s target audience (children, young adults, adults) and genre, for example, could affect how you approach and think about trigger warnings. But for now, here’s a few rapid-fire responses to mainstream arguments I’ve seen making the rounds.
To be clear, I’ve heard the following arguments not only about authors adding trigger warnings to their books but also about trigger warnings as a concept (e.g., even on websites offering reader-curated warnings that readers can look up ahead of time).
- Everybody has different triggers. You can’t list them all. Perfect is the enemy of the good. And I think there’s a clear enough list of “top ten or so most traumatizing things for the majority of humans” that you should be able to recognize in your own work.
- You’re ruining the element of surprise. If the trigger warning is well written, probably not. And even if so, that is, like . . . kind of the point.
- Trigger warnings will make people avoid things they don’t want to read, and people need to read about things that make them uncomfortable. There’s a big difference in “exploring new topics or themes that feel intimidating or strange at first” and “not wanting to read on-page sexual assault.” The people in the first category aren’t going to become inquisitive and open minded based on the presence or absence of a trigger warning. You can’t trick them into it. The people in the second category are fully within their rights to protect their damn peace.
- What if trigger warnings prompt censorship? Book banning is a real and serious threat. But the jerks trying to ban books are going to sniff out themes and content that they want to silence regardless of trigger warnings. Also, as a lover of spicy monster romance and the occasional splatter horror, I’ll drop that it’s okay if your book has a super niche audience. That’s not censorship, just a matter of needing to find your specific readers.
- Something-something boo-hoo free speech. You literally don’t have to include a trigger warning.
Finally, a couple other items because the algorithm loves controversy:
- Demanding trigger warnings for books with queer characters is homophobic.
- Calling readers “weak” for looking up trigger warnings is loser behavior.
- Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable. In a lot of cases, I find writers who moan loudly about trigger warnings are more concerned about their access to the already disturbed than about whether their work truly challenges the comfortable. Punch up, okay?
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