final essay

question six answer

A couple of years ago I was in a creative writing class and a peer wrote about polygamy. Feedback on her personal essay eventually devolved into a debate about whether her essay would work best for a Mormon audience or a non-Mormon audience. Either way, she would have to make drastic edits to make her work accessible or interesting to either demographic. In her essay, it seemed difficult to bridge the gap between the two audiences as well. The explanations she would have to give for polygamy would be different to non-Mormons or Mormons; the connotations would be different; the expectations for the story would be different. I think LDS authors can and should write to various demographics, but I think that writing to various demographics at once (or even for one author) is difficult. 

Added Upon, Jer3miah, and Homespun and Angel Feathers are all written (in my opinion) for an audience of Mormons (or people raised Mormon), who have a familiarity with the genre and doctrine of the content. Each of these works has an aspect of familiarity (to Mormons) while trying to be original. Added Upon takes familiar doctrine about the war in heaven and offers a new perspective. Jer3miah follows a narrative of a prophet, while subverting the familiar Mormon narrative as well. Homespun and Angel Feathers discusses plastic surgery, Joseph Smith, and aging in ways that are familiar but deconstructing. While non-Mormons may be drawn to these works, they seem to primarily resonate with Mormon audiences. The benefit of LDS authors writing to an LDS audience is that they can play on the familiar genres of conversion narratives, testimony narratives, and sermons and make them fresh. By taking a communal story and converting it to something less familiar can be a catalyst to greater perspective. 

LDS authors that write to a non-LDS audience experience various advantages as well. Martinne Leavitt does not write to an LDS audience. But the themes of turning to God echo throughout her work. Martinne Leavitt was able to inhabit tragedy authentically and with love. She could discuss topics that maybe she wouldn’t say in Sunday School because she wasn’t appealing to a strictly Mormon orthodoxy. I think that because her audience was designed to be Mormons, she could feel more confident saying that Angel was blessed with more work as a prostitute. I think that she would have had to justify that blessing more or acknowledged its implications had her audience been Mormon. Not having your audience be Mormon seems to allow an author a kind of freedom to not need to address Mormon topics or concerns head-on. She could tell the truth without being reductive, and without worrying if she was being “Mormon enough” because her goal wasn’t to “be Mormon” (though her Mormonism is reflected in her work). 

The tricky part for me, comes down to those authors who fall somewhere in the middle. Authors possibly like Ashley Mae Hoiland or Terry Tempest Williams. These authors aren’t strictly defending the faith, they sometimes have critiques of their faith or unorthodox beliefs in their Mormonism. The authors that problematize orthodoxy are tricky to pin down. Williams speaks of a Heavenly Mother, that is a topic that can be alienating to some Mormons and in order for those orthodox Mormons to feel comfortable, that concept might need scaffolding. But, if there is too much scaffolding, the justification of female divinity might alienate non-Mormon readers. 

They wander between roads, stumbling between audiences, and perhaps internal beliefs as well. They seem to especially not belong for a non-Mormon demographic, because how can the unorthodox critics speak for the group? But they also seem to not be wholly welcomed, or at least applauded, by the orthodox. Hoiland said that she didn’t want to pull the weight of an entire religion, so in her second memoir, she left out her Mormonism all together. It seems difficult for authors to exist in that in between space. To carry the weight of Mormonism they aren’t sure if they want to bear. They exist between cracks and between tribes. This is complicated for an audience and author. 

And yet, I find myself longing for these stories. These stories that push narrative and assert that Mormonism is bound together by doctrine, and that doctrine is explored by adventurous disciples who aren’t afraid to question and to seek and to dare in their writing and in their faith. I think most LDS authors do this a little bit. But I believe those authors that exist in-between demographics are especially daring. Perhaps there are many of these writers, in-between demographics, that keep their work to themselves. I hope they share it. I believe the Latter-day Saints are a story-telling folk. We cherish tales that bond us and challenge us and excite us. I think we are ready to cherish all the stories of the subversive Mormons, of the stalwart Mormons, of the “my audience isn’t just Mormons” Mormons. There is strength in story.