A Problematic Character, a Pulled Book Series, and How We Ended Up Here Again: My Take on Publishing’s Latest Brouhaha—Part I

Welcome to Five On Fridays, my weekly straight-no-chaser newsletter where I help demystify the publishing industry for new writers and early-career authors. Let’s jump right in.

Buckle up, fellow book nerds, this is a long one. 

March seems to be going head-to-head with February for being one hell of a month, despite currently being only fourteen days old. Between on-again, off-again tariffs that affect everything from the cost of cars and books, to book bannings ramping up, I’d say we can safely declare March the 2025 Hell-Of-A-Month winner (at least until April arrives). And that’s before I even get into the controversy that saw advance readers calling out a problematic character in an ARC (advance reader copy), the author’s apology that followed, and the publisher pulling the book series. Told you March was already knee-deep in some mess.

I talk about that mess in today’s post, listing the problems at the center of the firestorm. But I have so much to say on this topic, I’m going to need a bigger boat. This requires a three parter, so next week I’ll focus on possible solutions, and in the final post, I’ll talk about writing (or not writing) problematic characters. But first, the brouhaha surrounding one problematic character in particular, the publishing industry, and why we always seem to be right back where we started. 

The brouhaha

Earlier in March, advance readers posted screenshots of lines from a romance novel slated for release later this year. Among other things, the lines—thoughts and words of a male lead—made disparaging remarks about immigrants and seemed to compliment a certain white-nationalist-supporting, non-elected government entity. I’m not naming the author here (or the non-elected entity), though a quick Google search would provide all the details you’re looking for. But naming the author wouldn’t serve any purpose at this point, and I’m not a fan of piling on, even when someone is in the wrong. (More on this later.) So, in a nutshell, that was the brouhaha. But the problem is much bigger than a couple of lines in a book 

The problematic character

If publishing scandals are a spark, social media is the fuel. Once the screenshots hit social, the fire was lit. On one side were the readers who’d brought the book’s problematic lines to light. On the other were the author’s fans who were quick to defend her, as fans are wont to do. There was also the smaller, but just as vocal camp, that argued that authors must be allowed to write problematic characters. Problematic people exist in real life, they posited, surely authors have to be able to write about them. 

Of course authors must be able to write problematic characters. Just off the top of my head I can think of a few great ones. Killmonger did some terrible things in Black Panther, Thanos indiscriminately snapped half the world away in Avengers Infinity War, and Walter White, well, we all know what Mr. White did. These characters were complex and dark, yet they have cult-like fanbases. They didn’t espouse racist ideologies or punch down at the people who had less power, privilege, or social status than they did. Doing so would have reinforced existing inequalities. But even when characters are god awful, even when they punch down, they’re written in a way that the viewer or reader knows they’re meant to be awful—Game of Thrones anyone? There’s a way to incorporate problematic characters into your story, and a way not to.

The apology

After a couple of days (authors are told never to engage in negative feedback from readers online, so the delay wasn’t necessarily alarming), the author issued an apology. In her apology, she thanked the community for feedback, acknowledged that certain lines in the book were hurtful, and expressed regret for the harm her words had caused. She stated that her intention had been to portray a flawed character, but instead she had unintentionally written “dialogue that read as attacking a community that I care about very much.” The thing that surprised many people who’d been following the story was that the author also shared that her publisher had used a sensitivity reader on the project and that the reader had flagged the same lines as problematic. The author chose to include them anyway.

The advice that wasn’t taken

For those unfamiliar with them, sensitivity (or authenticity) reads are readings of manuscripts undertaken by individuals with lived experience, training, and education in certain topics and identities. Sensitivity reads are done on a wide array of subject matters including disability and learning disorders; neurodivergency;  pregnancy and childbirth; gun violence; LGBTQI; immigrant experiences; race, culture, and ethnicity, to name just a few. There are dozens and dozens more areas, and I can’t possibly include them all here, but sensitivity reads exist so authors writing outside of lived experiences or those who want to write with a deeper understanding of setting and character, can do so more authentically.

Yet there is often pushback against sensitivity reading and readers. And sometimes, as in this author’s case, the advice of the sensitivity reader is ignored. Consider the fact that authors who write police procedurals, legal novels, and historicals, for example, all spend inordinate amounts of time doing research to create deeper, more authentic characters and stories. Astute authors of procedurals ride with detectives, interview cops, and talk to victims, taking fastidious notes and studying mannerisms and language, all so they can get it just right. These authors are commended, rightfully, for their dedication to authenticity. But when the same level of dedication to authenticity is shown when dealing with writing that encompasses matters of race, ethnicity, and identity, suddenly this type of research, this level of desire for accuracy is discouraged, dismissed, or, even ignored.

The Consequence

A day or two after the author issued the apology, the publisher announced plans to pull the entire series. I’m not sure they had much of an alternative. The uproar on social media from upset readers didn’t seem to be dying. And If the main character regularly expressed sentiments like the ones he did in this book, maybe the series included other characters who felt and spoke the same; after all, we are the company we keep, even if we’re made-up characters in a book. Maybe the author wanted to put this all behind her. Maybe the publisher did. But whatever the reason, a message was delivered.

Pulling these books might satisfy some, but what will other authors learn from this? In a society where books featuring characters who are people of color or LGBTQI are banned at twice the rate of books written by and featuring white authors, where “wokeness” and “DEI” have been blamed for so-called cancel culture, I fear pulling books like this will just cement some people’s belief that issues such as ableism, homophobia, anti-immigrant hate, and racism aren’t the problem, but that calling them out is. And I think some authors may end up removing problematic characters from their books, not because they actually understand the value of inclusion and accurate representation, but because they don’t want their books or series pulled. Which means fear and not knowledge, frustration and not growth will be their motivation. 

Bonus: The Future

Told you I had a lot to say on this subject. Messed around and accidentally made a sixth point on Five on Friday. So you get a bonus bullet point … tariff free.

As I see it, all the above problems boil down to this: Focusing on an author, book, or series spotlights individual players without addressing the systemic issues plaguing the publishing industry. The author who had her series pulled is a product of a system within a system wrapped within an even bigger system. Publishing has been here before, even the author in question has been here before. “Problematic” books or characters are brought to people’s attention, they’re removed (or not) only to have another one pop up weeks or months later. Removing a single book or even a series, gets rid of a needle in a haystack full of needles. We should be tossing out the entire haystack instead and starting anew. The future shouldn’t demand perfection from any author, any publisher, any industry; it should, however, demand clear eyes, the willingness to talk about “uncomfortable” things, and the desire to implement real and lasting change. 

Next week: What a new haystack looks like and how we help build it.

That wraps up this week’s Five On Fridays. Thank you for subscribing and reading. If you found this newsletter helpful, please share it on social media and forward it to your writer friends. Happy writing!

-Grace