At a conference I attended last summer, a New York Times best-selling Christian author taught a session on why people read fiction. During it, the speaker made an interesting claim: while most Christian authors are passionate about their storiesβ messages, readers typically arenβt. Rather, they tend to βread fiction to escape.β The speaker argued that βauthors are entertainers,β and whether we like it or not, we need to give people what they want.
The speakerβs comments rolled around in my mind for a while afterward. Do people really read fiction to escape?
Though I understand and respect the speakerβs conclusion, it doesnβt fully equip authors to write engaging stories. I believe that a different factor truly draws people to fiction and should influence us as storytellers. But first I need to refute the speakerβs main point.
Why Escape Isnβt the Motivation
The idea that people treat fiction as a getaway isnβt new. Tolkien himself touches on this in his famous essay βOn Fairy Stories.β In response to charges that fantasy is merely escapist literature, he acknowledges that βescape is one of the main functions of fairy storiesβ (emphasis mine). Then he adds, βescape is evidently as a rule very practical, and may even be heroicβ¦ Why should a man be scorned if, finding himself in prison, he tries to go out and go home? … Critics are confusing the Escape of the Prisoner with the Flight of the Deserter.β
I donβt completely disagree with Tolkien or the NYT best-selling authorβbut stopping here omits an important part of the picture. Suppose, for a moment, that their assessment is correct. What would this imply about stories? If people read to escape, this suggests theyβll be satisfied if that desire is fulfilled.
However, reviews on Goodreads and discussions about books and films show that people do not judge a story simply by how immersive it is. Twilight may be emotionally appealing (and popular), but that wasnβt sufficient for many readers. Similarly, Veronica Rothβs Allegiant received mixed reviews even though it provided escape like the other books in the series. Something was missing.
If we step back from this issue, weβll realize why readers are looking for more. Escape is a negative impulse; thus itβs fundamentally deficient. Prisoners donβt long for escape to anywhereβventuring into the heart of a volcano wouldnβt improve circumstances. Their goals are more complex, and the destination matters. If we surmise that readers want escape, thatβs technically not inaccurate. But if we focus only on creating a hatch for them to dive through, weβre writing with an inadequate objective.
Escapism also doesnβt explain why readers choose one book over another, and we need to comprehend these dispositions to be effective storytellers. Instead, I think a broader motivation is at play.
The Real Reason People Read
If escape is too limited a term to describe why people open a novel, why then do they read? Before I reveal my theory, Iβll share the premise for The Speed of Dark, a book I heard about the same summer that I listened to the best-selling authorβs speech on escapism.
Fifty or so years in the future, researchers discover a βcureβ for autism and present it to the public. The protagonist and several other autistic individuals must decide whether to undergo the surgery. Is autism a disease in need of correcting, or is it integral to who they are?
Personally, Iβm intrigued. Yet I wouldnβt define the bookβs pull on me as escapism. Sure, the story may serve as a distraction from everyday life, but that isnβt why Iβm interested in it. If the pitch grabs you too, Iβm guessing itβs not due to escapism either.
What entices me to read this book? The experience it offersβseeing life through the eyes of an autistic protagonist, facing the dilemma heβs wrestling with, and learning the authorβs proposed solution.
Probe any reader about why they loved or picked up a book, and youβre liable to prompt this response in some form. People disliked Twilight and Allegiant because those books didnβt carry them to the emotional realms they yearned for.
People gravitate toward stories because they crave a certain kind of experience, not just an exit from the real world.
Why This Is Relevant to Writers
Perhaps youβre sold on my thesis so far but wonder if Iβm splitting hairs. Since escape and experience seem like two sides of the same coin (readers escape in order to experience), is the distinction between them significant? When approaching writing, Iβd contend that experience is a more useful guideline than escape for four reasons.
1. It clarifies a readerβs motivations. Ultimately, escape is a mechanismβand as I mentioned above, it can either be good or bad depending on the place people are trying to reach. If we concentrate on the destination (experience) instead of the gateway (escape), weβll achieve more specificity, which builds the foundation for the next benefit.
2. It enables us to meet a readerβs expectations. We canβt write captivatingly otherwise. Thatβs why writers need to study their genre and consider readersβ preferences before drafting a novel. Like The Last Jedi, a story will flop with its audience if it doesnβt match their anticipations. Viewing storytelling as an experience instead of an escape better orients us to deliver the transportation readers are after.
Additionally, weβre more apt to think outside the box when crafting stories. Readers are continuously searching for new adventures and perspectives, and clichΓ©s impede this quest. When we direct our attention toward experiences, weβll attempt to brainstorm a unique oneβwhether dealing with ethical dilemmas alongside an autistic protagonist, learning to cope with the frailty of old age while traveling to South America via balloons, or exploring the world of dreams within dreams to pull off an unusual heist.
3. It exposes the apparent dichotomy between enjoyment and instruction as false. The best-selling author pitted reader and writer motivations against each other. Readers seek to escape, and writers aim to convey messages. However, when we add experience to the equation, the tension dissolves.
In general, books with meaningful themes are the most enjoyableβand enjoyable books are the most meaningful. The old Roman poet Horace argued that storytelling should teach and delightβand those twin goals arenβt contradictory.
All experiences, no matter how varied, boil down to a βwhat ifβ that allows readers to walk in someone elseβs shoes. God beautifully ordained the world to manifest the consequences of virtuous and vicious living (see the book of Proverbs). This affords us plenty of opportunities to weave lessons into the charactersβ decisions and actions so that readers experience truth.
In other words, we can more easily connect revelatory reflections to a particular experience than tack a moral onto a door that leads nowhere in particular.
4. It deepens the purpose of fiction. At least to me, the prospect of writing just to help people escape is unfulfilling. Authors entertain by default, but I donβt want to be an entertainer, and I doubt this is our role.
Instead, authors are curators of experiences that both teach and delight readers. I donβt write to supply readers with an escape venueβI write to create an experience that will capture them and convey the ideals Iβm hoping to communicate. The difference between escape and experience may be subtle, but itβs also pivotal.
The Real Reason We Write
A rule always has exceptions. Some people do read just to escape (regardless of the destination), while others are eager to encounter a message in fiction. However, I propose that people primarily read to have experiences, and authors need to cater to that.
An author who is oblivious to reader expectations is like a blind man throwing darts. A few may hit the target, but more by happenstance than anything else. To succeed at attracting the right audience, writers must read many books in their genre, talk with avid fans of that genre, and regularly evaluate beta readersβ impressions of their stories.
This is one of the reasons why understanding the readerβs perspective is central to our Writerβs Rank Quiz. That mindset needs to undergird every story.
We arenβt just the liberators handing a weary audience the keys to their cells. Weβre heralds ushering them into the lands they ache to visit so they return rejuvenated and enlightened. The journey doesnβt end with deliverance at the Red Sea but with fulfillment at the Promised Land.
How will you strive to accomplish this mission the next time you sit down to write?

Josiah DeGraaf is the summit & marketing director at Story Embers and the program director of The Young Writer. He writes because heβs fascinated by human motivations and loves to take normal people, put them in crazy situations (did he mention he writes fantasy?), and then force them to make difficult choices. Someday he hopes to write fantasy novels with worlds as imaginative as Brandon Sandersonβs, characters as complex as Orson Scott Cardβs, character arcs as dynamic as Jane Austenβs, and themes as deep as Fyodor Dostoyevskyβs. In the meantime, you can find him teaching young writers at the Young Writer’s WorkshopΒ or writing short stories atΒ his websiteΒ as he works toward achieving these goals.
Wow! I’ve often struggled with finding the purpose for my stories and stories as a whole, but this article has cleared up so many of my questions. Thank you!
You’re welcome, Quinn! I’m glad to hear this has been helpful for you as you think through your purpose as a storyteller. π
I am not a fiction writer (yet!) but I have always been a bookworm–a bookaholic, rather. Through the years, I’ve struggled with why I read and if I really should be spending so much time doing so. I would see quotes about reading like, “We read to escape reality,” and “I read to escape, “a lot, but if that was my sole motivation, I knew that reading was a waste of time for me. Christians are called to make a difference and live purposefully, so escapism is obviously a bad choice. From a readers point of view, I want to feel that I am learning something I didn’t know before–empathizing with a character who, in the real world, I probably would not have empathized with. I need reading to be worthwhile. Yes, reading is a form of escape. After a long day, I want to relax and read an intriguing novel. But, hand-in-hand, I want to experience something new and something I need to become a better person.
This article helped me understand my purpose as a reader! Thank you!
I totally agree with you here–escapism has always seemed a faulty purpose as a reader as well. I’ve considered writing a complementary piece about this topic for readers (I’d need to find a different publication to publish it), but am glad to hear that as a reader you were able to find this article helpful for that topic as well! There have been several stories that have helped to shape my beliefs and outlook on life and that’s one of the biggest reasons I value the art of reading.
I’ve never thought about it this way, but I couldn’t agree more.
By the way, what’s this book? “exploring the world of dreams within dreams to pull off an unusual heist” Is it any good?
Not a book, as I’m referring to Inception there. π Great movie, though!
Hey, thanks for reminding me to mark The Wife as “read” on Goodreads =P
While I enjoyed the article, I think this varies enormously by the reader. Nearly everyone I know IRL reads for content rather than for form or theme (as far as they’re aware, at least, though I imagine at least theme impacts a lot of them more than they’d admit) and for this reason I don’t like discussing books with a few people who read way more than I do, because they’re velocireaders grinding through thousands of pages of written-to-market niche fiction a week and they have basically nothing to say about anything they read.
If I look on Kindle’s Top 50 Literature and Fiction chart right now, going by the covers alone I see twenty-two Thrillers, seventeen Steamy Romances, six Lit Fics, and Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.
Though maybe genre pulp’s overwhelming market share isn’t a great argument against your point. I don’t know. I’m not even sure I’m arguing against your point.
I don’t think I write or read for escapism, but I do write in large part because I want to entertain. I want to create for others the feeling of… almost community? Of community, then, with characters and their conflicts in the same way I had books when I was younger and had no one and nothing else. I guess that is just escapism, huh?
Well, I want to use those characters and conflicts to address things that are important to me, and maybe that’s the difference. Nowadays that’s what draws me to a story most of all, when the author is clearly using their book to work through something dear to them, even if they come to a conclusion I don’t share.
Yeah, we need to be aware of the experiences readers demand from their genres, but I think the end result of that is we just don’t shock them out of their escapism (or their dream, if we go all Gardner) when we deliver them what they want.
I largely agree with a number of your points here. I would argue, though, that the escape these readers want is still to a specific experience (for a number of them, this experience is apparently the experience of a thriller or a steamy romance). I’d also put your motivation in this camp of looking for the experience of community. However, I do recognize that escape and experience can in some ways just be different sides of viewing the same issue.
I think you hit what I was struggling with in βescape and experience can in some ways just be different sides of viewing the same issue.β
Two hypothetical demographics might seek escapeβsay, Romance readers and Thriller readersβbut maybe theyβll only feel at ease enough to surrender themselves to that escape if their expectations of experience are fulfilled through genre standards.
So they are definitely seeking experiences, and even if their higher-order motivation is escapism, those experiences might be the aspect theyβre most aware of and most comfortable discussing.
This was powerful, Josiah. Thank you.
You’re welcome, Isabelle!
This is one of the best articles on fiction I have seen. Giving an internet standing ovation.
Thanks Antonio! I’m glad you really enjoyed it. π
Fascinating, and makes sense, too. Will be thinking about this as I plan my next novel.
Hope it helps as you do so!
Oh, wow. Never thought about it like that. This is REALLY ENLIGHTENING! Thank you, Josiah!!
You’re welcome, Ariel! Glad you found it helpful. π
This was EXCELLENT!! Great job! Personally I know a story will only “whisk me away” if it has a strong theme, but writing sometimes does feel like you may have to pick one or the other. Thanks for this!
Thanks Kassie! I’m glad you found it helpful. π
Half way through reading this, it suddenly felt like everything clicked. Everything that I had ever heard about writing and the stories that had captured my heart the most became your strongest advocates for why your point was true. Thank you for posting this.
I’m really encouraged to hear that this article was able to have that impact on you, Rachel. You’re quite welcome. π
Thank you for mentioning how people tend to be interested in certain kinds of books because they want a specific type of experience. My daughter has been trouble finding fun things to do ever since we moved to a remote area, and I would like to find a book that can help her enjoy her summer until she can make friends. Maybe I should find some fiction books to help her.
I hadn’t been thinking about this application in the original article, but I’m glad that my words helped and hope you’re able to find the right book for her to enjoy this summer!
Wow! Great article! So insightful!
Glad you found it helpful!