Don’t Kill Fido
When I hired a sensitivity reader for my upcoming novel, Diamonds in Auschwitz, I never
imagined the main piece of advice would be to nix the scene where the dog died.
Let me back up. For those of you who don’t know who/what is a sensitivity reader (I was of
your party about six months ago), I’ll explain. I opted to have someone read my novel with the
sole purpose of pointing out – as I thought initially – potentially offense or inappropriate parts
of the book. I thought this was especially important because all of my characters are Jewish,
and I am not. I wanted someone to read it and show me the things I got wrong in the Jewish
faith and culture and make sure I didn’t accidentally write something offensive.
My sensitivity reader did this. Thank you.
My reader also pointed out two, possibly “troubling” scenes for readers. I did not expect that.
Looking back now, I see that my sensitivity reader almost worked like a focus group. This person
(in my head, my reader is a female, so I’m going to go with ‘she’ from now on) commented on
two scenes with suggestions that they were a little too much for readers.
Scene #1 – I killed Fido. Actually, in my book, I killed off Snowball (that’s was the little pooch’s
name). I’ll admit, it’s a bit of a drawn-out scene, but I did that intentionally. Snowball was
meant to represent the death of another character that happened “off screen.” We couldn’t
see the execution of this character (no spoilers here, except, of course, the fate of poor
Snowball), so the dog’s execution was in place of that.
My reader, though, highly recommended I cut the death of Snowball. I get her point
completely. For example, not too long ago, The Husband and I were watching House of the
Dragon (the Game of Thrones prequel). There was a scene where the royal family executed all
the palace rat catchers. One of the rat catchers – the guilty one – had a dog. After the scene
showed all the dead bodies, it showed the dog. Do you know what I said? “Oh no! Not the little
dog! He’s so sad and alone!” The Husband was a little concerned that I wasn’t upset about the
slew of innocent men just murdered.
So I get it. Readers of historical fiction (especially WWII fiction) will put up with a lot of death
and torture and broken hearts. But don’t kill the dog.
In the end, I didn’t kill the dog. (PETA members, you can still purchase this book when it’s
available in March!) It wasn’t because I have such a soft spot for dogs. It was because my
developmental editor and I have briefly discussed a possible spin-off book from Diamonds. It
would follow the story of the character who was meant to be executed in this scene. I like
leaving his fate (thus the dog’s fate) a little vague, in case I want to write the follow-up novel.
So, Snowball is… safe? I mean, he’s in the hands of bored and vicious Nazis, so safe might be a
stretch.
Scene #2 – I’ll have to keep this a little vague to prevent ruining a plot point for everyone. Let’s
just say there’s a baby in my story, and let’s also say that a terrible thing happens to it. I’ll be
the first to admit it: what happens to the baby is sickening. I was physically sick to my stomach
when I wrote it. But, and this is an important but, it happened in real life. I’ve read multiple,
nonfiction accounts of the Nazis doing exactly what happened to the baby. When things are
true, even when they are terrible – maybe, especially when they are terrible – I think they have
to be said.
The sensitivity reader – bless her heart – was very honest about this scene. She was torn. On
one hand, she said after reading it, she had to lay the book down for a full 24 hours and take a
break. She worried that some more sensitive readers will never pick it back up. On the other
hand, though, she agreed that it was powerful and needed to be said.
I struggled with this feedback for days. Just like with Snowball, I was very purposeful in the fates
of Rachael’s family. Each person represented the progression of violence against the Jews
during World War II. The baby’s fate was important to show the escalation, not only of the
German’s treatment of the Jews, but the passivity of the non-Jews around them. I also don’t
believe that we should water down history to make it more palatable. If we don’t see things as
they truly happened, won’t we be more likely to repeat them?
But… what happened to that baby is awful. And I would hate to think that readers don’t finish
the story because of that one scene.
My brain went over those arguments for days. The Husband and my #1 Reader both said to
leave it. I sat down to change it. Then my editor spoke up. She removed one sentence to make
it “less gruesome” and supported me by convincing me to keep the story I had written. I can’t
say how grateful I am to have an editor to do that for me.
So, the sensitivity reader saved one life at least.
