Is Your Chic Lit Making You Drink?

Rethinking Your Summer Reading
by Sarah Kate

I recently picked up a book called The Guest List, which is a great easy read in the thriller category. The only problem is the plot line relies heavily on alcohol consumption. In every single chapter, if not on every page, there is someone drinking, someone passing around drinks or someone that has drunk too much. To be sure, the book is about a wedding weekend on a remote island. It left me wanting to reach for a glass of Bolly, take a swig of some whiskey or down several glasses of white wine – depending on the chapter.

After putting the book down, I realized this is an issue.

Last year, I took a good hard look at my relationship with alcohol and decided to call it quits. When I came up for air from my multitude of wine glasses, I began to notice a collective social pressure to drink. To better understand myself, I sought the source of this pressure in hopes it would be a key to making the journey easier. It was eye-opening to realize that it’s all around us – there isn’t one source of our manufactured consent around drinking.

As a key part of putting alcohol in the rear-view mirror, I turned to books and spent many pandemic hours reading everything from romance fiction to business and self-help. As I became more and more aware of how regularly alcohol shows up in our lives, I began to also notice how often fiction authors rely on drinking as a narrative tool.

If you’ve watched anything on Netflix recently, you might have noticed the pop-up at the start of a show or movie signalling the Rating and the reasons why people should take note – smoking, addictive substances, sex and foul language. I’ve pulled the plug on many family movies because of that pop-up.

It begs the question about why publishers don’t put trigger warnings on books. What is the role of publishers and authors in our collective consciousness around drinking and the acceptance of over-drinking? After all, books are one of the oldest influences on culture and social conversation.

For many people, the subliminal message about alcohol holds no danger. Words on a page are just that – a momentary escape into a fictitious space. However, there is recent and relevant data showing an increase in alcohol use disorder around the globe. I think publishers and authors need to consider how they can make a positive impact on this trend, even if it’s only a small one.

Warning labels on books is not a new idea. The conversation regarding trigger warnings has been around for a long time, mainly focusing on content containing sexual assault and mental health. There is outrage from some corners and support from other corners.

Where these topics differs from alcohol use disorder is that collectively, we know sexual assault is wrong, we accept that mental health and suicide are huge issues and we seek to protect those that are vulnerable. We don’t glorify their existence.  

When it comes to alcohol, we love it and accept it as a protagonist in all of our own personal stories. The danger is that glorifying an addictive substance through literature enhances its appeal and puts a lot more people in the path of addiction. It validates our own reliance on it and makes it untouchable.

I can’t and don’t want to singularly take on the literary world. I love reading and respect an industry that brings joy to so many. I’m an alcohol-free woman in mid-life that is confident in my own choices, but there are many, many others that are struggling around the globe. This is meant to be a conversation starter on how authors and publishers alike can take a stand and elevate the world’s standard of living, even if it’s only one book at a time.