A Novel Style
| February 10, 2015Dovid Sussman was entertaining in his home in Israel when his guest’s attention turned to the bookcase. “He pulled one of my novels off the shelf,” Dovid relates, “and said, ‘Hey, this author has the same name as you!’ ”
He’s used to this reaction. Though Dovid has written four novels — the most recent, Prime Suspect (Torah Temimah Publications, 2013) — and is a regular contributor to Mishpacha, many people express surprise or curiosity when they find out he’s a fiction writer.
The Male Viewpoint
Frum males are a minority in the field of frum fiction, though some distinguished authors have been turning out fiction long before the explosion of contemporary frum literature: think Marcus Lehmann and Gershon Kranzler.
Those who do write fiction often face an imbalanced audience. “I don’t have any official statistics, but I believe that there are more female readers of fiction than male ones, just as there are more female writers,” says Dovid Sussman.
Male fiction writers therefore face unique writing challenges. Not only are they targeting an audience that may include a majority of females, but they also must enter the heads of their female characters and create a realistic portrait of their lives, a tough task for any pen-wielding storyteller who values his trade.
“I try to give my writing universal appeal,” Sussman explains. “But I do give my work to my wife to read, and she can tell me if a character isn’t working out right. I also count on my female editors to let me know if a character isn’t acting as feminine as she should be.”
Other writers concentrate only on the males in their audience, and leave the rest to work itself out: “People sometimes tell me that my stories are too male-centered,” says Dov Haller, author of the popular Mishpacha serials Sundays @ 10, The Successor, and Rappaport 55, among others. “I know that men read fiction — somebody’s got to be writing for them. I’m mostly catering to men, and I’m comfortable with the fact that I’m not going to do the emotion-heavy plots that women do.”
However, Haller admits, a frum male writer does have certain limitations when it comes to his female characters. “I never describe how a woman looks. You have to read about my female characters without knowing their appearance. And I definitely understand my male characters better than I do my female characters.”
Even male authors whose writing crosses gender lines acknowledge that they tend to write more about men. “I don’t have female main characters,” says Rabbi Nachman Seltzer, author of 19 books to date, four of which are works of fiction (including The Network [Shaar Press, 2008] and The Shadows [Shaar Press, 2011]). “When people call me up and ask for advice on how to write about yeshivah life, if they’re female, I tell them to forget about it. You can’t write about things you don’t know.”
Since there are so few male voices on the frum fiction scene, many male writers find that people welcome their work. “Many frum books today are written by women,” says Rabbi Yosef Reinman, “and while I have the utmost respect for women, there’s a perspective from the beis midrash that isn’t well-represented in Jewish fiction. It would be good if more b’nei Torah would write — a very valuable addition to Jewish literature.”
Truth in Fiction
Writing fiction may be an avocation that few modern frum males have taken up, yet those who do are proud of their genre and its accomplishments.
“With fiction, you have the freedom to call a spade a spade,” says Dov Haller, whose serialized stories have been published in book form as well (In Black and White [Artscroll/Mesorah, 2008] and A Promising Past [Shaar Press, 2009]). “There’s a certain honesty you can have in fiction that you can’t have in nonfiction, where you might have to make a certain point or write with a certain agenda.”
Fiction allows the writer to use his or her imagination in a way that other genres don’t, adds Rabbi Seltzer. “When you write a book, the characters take on a life of their own,” he says. “The web you weave is a very special thing. In the frum world, it may be looked down upon, but you can’t deny the power of fiction to impact people’s lives.”
Furthermore, fiction is entertaining, informative, and gives a message, says Sender Zeyv, the author of the serial Gone West, which ran in Mishpacha in 2010 and is now available in book form from TMS Publishing. “It’s no different from any other mashal.”
The road to the reader’s heart is shorter via the novel than the mussar pamphlet. “If you’re trying to convey an idea, you may be able to write it in 10 pages, but the 400-page novel will be the shorter way to write it,” Zeyv quips.
For writers who write in several genres, fiction can offer both personal satisfaction and a different platform to convey their thoughts. Rabbi Zev Paretzky, for example, who writes about Jewish history from a Torah perspective, is also the author of several historical fiction works for young readers under the name Zev Spektor, among them The Churva Plot (Judaica Press, 2011) and Strangers in Yerushalayim (Judaica Press, 2013). “Fiction can reach people who wouldn’t read nonfiction,” he says.
Similarly, fiction offers its readers a glimpse of the past without the whitewashing that may occur in other works. “There’s a saying that there’s more truth in fiction than in nonfiction,” comments Rabbi Yosef Reinman, who authors the historical Strasbourg Saga series (including the most recent, The Fur Traders [Artscroll/Mesorah, 2008] and Midnight Intruders [Artscroll/Mesorah, 2009]) under the pen name Avner Gold. “Nowadays, everything that is published is so sanitized. It can be hard for people to relate to gedolim when we write about them as if they were malachim. In fiction, you can create imperfect role models.”
Out in the Open
Many frum male fiction writers write under a pen name — a far greater percentage, it seems, than their female counterparts. The reason is obvious to those who have chosen this path: For a person known as a kollel yungerman or talmid chacham, publishing a work of fiction may seem beneath his dignity.
“I was a rebbi when I started writing,” explains Dov Haller. “I enjoy writing fiction — I’m not embarrassed of anything I do to feed my family — but it’s not my mission in life. I needed to keep that distinction clear to myself.”
Similarly, Rabbi Reinman, who stumbled upon fiction writing after he had authored a sefer and several translations of Torah classics, says, “It would have been too much of a culture shock for people if I’d come out with a work of fiction.”
After 30 years, he’s become more public about the person behind the name that appears on his fiction works. “Now I’m older, and people know me better,” he says. “Still, using a pen name makes a demarcation between my seforim and my fiction, which is fine. There should be a demarcation, because it’s not the same thing. One is Torah and one is not.”
Not every frum male chooses to use a pen name. Rabbi Seltzer, whose novels are written under his own name, states emphatically, “I’m very much against pen names. I believe people should stand behind what they do.” He admits, though, that while fiction in our world is enjoyed, it’s not necessarily admired.
“On the one hand, fiction is very powerful; a fiction writer impacts on people’s lives. On the other hand, since Torah is paramount in our lives, we respect true stories and biographies more. That’s why out of the 19 books that I’ve written, only four are fiction. While I do very much like the genre, I have mixed feelings about it.”
There are advantages to being public about your fiction. “Over the years, I sometimes wondered if perhaps I should have used a pen name, but by and large, it doesn’t bother me,” says Dovid Sussman. “One good thing about writing under your real name is that you have to be cautious about what you write; you’re less likely to write something that you might later regret. The cloak of anonymity can sometimes be a little bit too comfortable.”
All in the Message
Every powerful piece of fiction has an underlying message to it. Even when writers don’t spell this message out, their readers will notice it, however subtle it may be. That said, not every author sets out to change the world with his narratives.
“I write so people should enjoy the story, not to give a message,” claims Haller. “I’m very proud that Mishpacha rarely gets letters about the hashkafos espoused in my stories, but I’m not preaching. The story should be an enjoyable read, maybe a chance to confront certain truths about yourself, but there’s no hidden agenda.”
Still, the messages sink in. A reader recently related to Haller how he saw a group of bochurim eating shawarma in a fast-food joint in Yerushalayim, and he felt a little softer toward them as a result of Haller’s current serial Rappaport 55, which chronicles the ups and downs of an American yeshivah in Eretz Yisrael.
“If you write with a healthy attitude, the messages will follow,” Haller explains. “I learned in yeshivos, I learned in kollel, I love yeshivah bochurim. If I’ve made them more positive in your eyes, I’m thrilled. They’re our heroes, our future.”
In contrast, Sender Zeyv, who has been accused of writing stories that are all action, says that his writing always has a purpose. “Everything that I write is imbued with the spirit of Torah, and each novel has a different message. In Every Man a Slave[Isreal Bookshop], for example, the message was that each person should do the best he can, no matter the circumstances he finds himself in, and if he does that he’ll succeed. In Gone West [Israel Bookshop], the message is that you never know the consequences of what you do, whether for the good or the bad, and it illustrated the magnitude of the effects your actions can have in the future.”
In less action-packed stories as well, many messages seep in. “I try to incorporate a lot of Torah values, a lot of history, into my fiction,” says Rabbi Reinman. “My stories are all about chavivus haTorah, chashivus hamitzvos. For example, in Envoy from Vienna [C.I.S.Publishing], after Elisha Ringel’s tefillin are stolen, he gives away a house he owns for a new pair. People have told me that made a deep impact on them.”
Contemporary stories too contain many messages for the reader. “My books are not intended to be mussar seforim in disguise, but yes, I do want them to have messages and not just be empty entertainment,” says Sussman. “Prime Suspect, for instance, was about a wealthy family that was too embroiled in gashmiyus and learned the hard way that there was a lot missing from their lives.”
What we read can deeply influence us. A writer has a responsibility, Rabbi Seltzer points out, to write appropriate material. “You have to remember that when you write something, people are going to read it and it’s going to impact them. Because you’re a writer, they respect you.
“A bochur once asked me why I don’t write seforim. I said, ‘Listen, I could write a sefer on Chumash, like the millions of seforim out there already, but do I want to write a sefer because I want to write a sefer, or do I want to influence the world, to bring Hashem’s name into the world?
“Baruch Hashem, since I started, I’ve been able to be mekadesh sheim Shamayim through fiction, biographies, true stories — and even mussar seforim like 48 [Artscroll/Mesorah], which is based on the 48 kinyanei Torah, and Inside Their Homes[Artscroll/Mesorah], a personal and intimate look at our gedolim and the way they live their lives. All my writing tries to convey the same message: that HaKadosh Baruch Hu is in charge. If you want your message to resound with people, it has to be written in a way that people will want to read it.”
Calling Aspiring Male Writers
While female story-crafters in our world have many resources available to them — writing workshops run by veterans in the field, women-only writing seminars, and like-minded writing partners and mentors — the frum man who wants to write may have a harder time finding these outlets. At the same time, points out Shia Moseson, author of Windows to Destiny (Hamodia Treasures, 2010) and Windows to Loyalty (Hamodia Treasures, 2014), there’s a real need for more frum male novelists to produce hashkafically-sound original material.
If a frum male would like to write fiction, how should he proceed? Moseson, who learns in kollel part of the day and works at a demanding job the rest of the day — fitting his writing into just one afternoon a week — offers the following tips:
- First and foremost, check with your spiritual mentor (whether rav, rebbi, rosh yeshivah, or mashgiach) if fiction writing is something you should even consider.
- Be realistic. Writing fiction is a very limited and relatively low-paying field, and while it can supplement other income, it should never be considered instead of a regular job.
- If your mentor gives you a go-ahead, try writing a short story first instead of a full-length novel.
- Write about things you know best, and try to make your characters as real as possible.
Rabbi Zev Paretzky, who learns as well as teaches, writing only in his spare time, adds another tip for aspiring young writers:
- If there is a time when you will not be learning or getting physical exercise, read something. It will help you build your skills in communicating Torah ideas, both orally and in writing. Content value varies, of course, but there is plenty of good material being published by our community.
Justifying the Time Spent Writing
For frum males, writing can sometimes be viewed not as an enjoyable pastime but as an unnecessary waste of time. How do these popular authors justify the time spent writing?
“I’ve always asked sh’eilos about whether I should be writing. I had to balance writing with my chiyuv of talmud Torah and to make sure that it was a justifiable use of my time, especially when I was in yeshivah and learning three sedarim. My third novel was written exclusively during bein hazemanim and on weekends. Even then, I spoke to my mashgiach before dedicating time to it.” — Dovid Sussman
“When I started, I asked a sh’eilah from Rav Yitzchak Berkovits. I was getting semichah from him at the time. He said I should do it because people want to read, and it’s better they should read kosher fiction.” — Rabbi Nachman Seltzer
“I’m happy that I’m able to have a parnassah from something I enjoy. I don’t have to justify it any more than a electrician has to justify the time he spends wiring – it’s my job. I’m very grateful to Hashem that I can provide for my family this way.” — Dov Haller
(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 429)
Oops! We could not locate your form.