I have developed a new phobia. In a previous lifetime, I used to love getting recommendations from friends and colleagues for a new book to read or movie to watch. I’d eagerly scribble down a note (or type one into my phone) and look forward to curling up with a great new book or relaxing in front of the TV. But now, when someone recommends a new book or Netflix series, I am filled with dread. What woke agenda is about to be forced on me? How many token identity groups will be shoe-horned into the cast of characters? What grievance or victimology will pervade the plot? How much God-ridiculing, America-bashing, and conservative-mocking will I have to endure to make it through the story?
Sometimes, I give it the old college try. Sometimes, a book starts off fine, without directly insulting my beliefs or assaulting my values. But all too often, it goes off the rails. Recently, my husband and I got hooked on a British police drama. We enjoyed several seasons of pain-free episodes, until we hit the wall. Somewhere around the 2018 season, the propaganda began. The white men were no longer allowed to be the good guys. Every single episode included a gay couple. And I do mean every single episode. Immigrants were always oppressed, always innocent victims. Businesses were evil, successful businessmen were villains (and somehow they all seemed to be destroying the climate). No one went to church, although I believe at least one murder was committed inside a church. Teenagers were pierced, tattooed, disrespectful and vulgar. And heroic, of course. At first, we just rolled our eyes. Eventually, we simply stopped watching. The narrative overwhelmed the, well, the narrative.
Over the past few years, there have been several attempts to produce “conservative” movies. They’re almost always terrible. Bad script, bad production values, bad acting. Clumsy attempts to counter-act the progressive messaging with heavy-handed conservative messaging. That’s not helping anyone.
When I was at Regnery, we flirted with the idea of publishing fiction several times. Our core competency was political nonfiction, but we felt a responsibility to wade into fiction, as there were fewer and fewer new novels our audience could stomach.
We experienced some modest success, especially with the novels we published by Stephen Coonts, but as we started to promote our new line of “conservative fiction,” I was asked a critical question: What is conservative fiction?
And herein lies the key to getting this right. You see, conservative fiction is not a story about a conservative topic. It is not a plot that focus on advancing the conservative stance on a particular issue. It is not a book that “promotes” fracking or right-to-work or secure borders.
No, conservative fiction is a great story in which the characters look like you and me. And when I say “look,” I am not talking about physical attributes like race, skin color, sex, height, weight, or disability. I mean characters who share our values. Who care about the nuclear family, who cherish life, who worship God, who believe in the value of hard work, who treat everyone with respect — especially those they disagree with. Who understand that privilege requires responsibility, not an apology. Who are dedicated to leadership as an act of service, not a license to boss everyone around.
I promise to let you know when I come across excellent examples of books that meet this standard, books you can approach with excitement, not dread. And I invite you to share your favorites with me.