“One writes out of one thing only—one’s own experience. Everything depends on how relentlessly one forces from this experience the last drop, sweet or bitter, it can possibly give. This is the only real concern of the artist, to recreate out of the disorder of life that order which is art.” 

James Baldwin – Notes of a Native Son

Over the ages, any revolutionary movement has an element of art tied to it, whether it be paintings, sculptures, writings or music. These mediums are weapons in the fight that shed no blood and take no prisoners, yet they inspire, enrage, motivate, and encourage. 

Art is resistance to the status quo. 

It is a gift that enables the user to fight against the norms of the day. The way things are.  The status quo is — by its own nature — resistance…  It is resistance to change. And when we look at our current state of affairs, we have to understand that there is a dichotomy between the temporary and the persistent. 

The temporary state of things may refer to a loss of a job. Your goal might be to rectify that situation as soon as possible. It’s something moveable, something you can change with your actions.  

The persistent state of things, however, may indicate that you are stuck in a socioeconomic system that resists movement out of one social class and into another. This part may be immovable. This is where true frustration lies — in the things we believe we cannot change. 

The status quo often stares at us directly in our face, like when an SS soldier bangs on your door in 1945 Germany or a cross burns on your lawn in 1965 Georgia. It’s the persistence of a civil war in Southeast Asia or the horrors of the prison industrial complex or inequitable policies that keep us at odds with one another. 

When we think about the status quo we are talking about the pieces of puzzle that refuse to budge, that refuse to move, because that’s just the way it is.

This is where art comes in. As artists, we constantly look at the persistent — the things that bother us when we examine the world. We grieve it, we agonize over it, and then we get to a place where we fight it. 

We need to consider art as a powerful force against the status quo. When we do it becomes a refusal to accept the world around us for the way it is, for the way that others dictate it to be. Art is the ability to produce works that will be appreciated not only for their beauty but their emotional power.

This is when you take a look at the world around you and weave what you see into your storytelling. It’s Anne Frank penning her diary despite her persistent state of torture and ridicule. It’s Nikki Giovanni writing Nikki-Rosa — a poem dripping with resistance to the status quo. A poem that shows the hardness and complexities of life; the pain of her persistent current state, yet at the core, a declaration of joy, a proclamation of freedom within bondage.

That. Is. Art.

And here is the charge of the artist: To explain how you see the world, in a way that resonates with others, and gives them a picture of how the world ought to be. When a painter puts the first stroke on a canvas or when a sculptor lifts their knife to the clay, they commit to sharing how they see the world. 

For those of us who are fiction writers, we may believe that resistance is only for commentary, poetry, or random musings, but there is power in weaving resistance into a fictional story. As a novelist, when you type the first letters of your manuscript or the first stroke of your pen touches the paper, you have taken the initial step to letting art flow out of you and into your work. Sometimes we do this unconsciously, but other times we must do it intentionally, and when we do, we see the ideals we value displayed in our characters.

Sometimes our characters can embody entire ideologies and systems. Sometimes the bad guy represents systemic inequities that need to be defeated, and sometimes our protagonist represents the people fighting to make a difference. I challenge you to not hold back when you write these characters. Instead, allow them to fully live. This enables them to do the work of shining a light on the travesties in our world. By doing this, you resist the status quo.

If the current thing on your mind is your country’s policies you don’t agree with, let those issues come out on paper. It can be justice, immigration, climate change, capitalism, socialism, equity, women’s rights, or traveling the world.  

Our words give voice to our causes and legs to our campaigns. Show the world as it is, through your eyes, and people will identify with you — no matter the genre. You can write mystery, romance, fantasy, or horror and still incorporate the scary truth of the world into each of those pieces. If you’ve read Tiffany Jackson’s Grown or Angie Thomas’ The Hate U Give, or Catherine Adel West’s Saving Ruby King, you’ve seen three Black women tell very different stories about their own experiences and the world around them. They dig into the stereotypes, lies, secrets, and traumas that show life through their eyes. 

And yet, they all give us Hope. It may be subtle and some might even argue that it’s nonexistent, but there is always hope. Hope through that one character that believes against the odds. Hope by way of the character that perseveres through beatdown after beatdown that life unloads on her. Hope in the smallest of places birthed out of a story that resonates with your soul.

This is what we long for. This is what anchors us to a book. We want to be gloriously wrapped up in the emotion of a story. As artists, bringing all of ourselves into our work is our charge. 

“Everything depends on how relentlessly one forces from this experience the last drop, sweet or bitter, it can possibly give. This is the only real concern of the artist, to recreate out of the disorder of life that order which is art.” 

That last line really sticks with me. Recreate out of the disorder of life, that order which is art. As artists, as creators, as magicians of our craft, we have but one concern that’s subtly woven into our subconscious screaming to get out. 

I have to speak the truth.

I have to — as Baldwin puts it — create order from the disorder of life, to help make sense of the world. To point to a vision of the future that can be better than the present we experience, and the beauty of it all is that I can do it through telling a story that is uniquely my own. Whether it’s Sci-Fi, Historical Fiction, or a Picture Book, we have the very special privilege to infuse our novel with the social issues of the day. It’s at those moments when your manuscript really comes alive. 

When you take your current environment, the social issues you are passionate about, and your experiences, and paint a picture of not only how the world is but how it should be, you’ll have created a reality in which readers can fully immerse themselves. You’ll speak to the heart.

When you have actually squeezed out of yourself every bit of experience that you can possibly give, down to the last sweet or bitter drop, then you can rest knowing that your words have done their part in changing the world.