Writing Without a Message: Why Books Don’t Have to Be Deep

Every Friday night my friends and I play out the same scene: we meet for dinner and a drink, sharing the victories, losses, and gossip of our week, then watch a movie (after much arguing about which one to pick). The evening culminates with us arguing about the movie we just watched—an act that often starts mid-movie, as one of my friends can’t seem to keep his comments for after the movie.

The argument also follows similar lines: my friend will point out anything that doesn’t make sense (no matter how minor) and critique the movie’s overall statement, often claiming that it’s lacking. I’ll disagree until I get tired of the argument and change the subject.

But the argument isn’t the point—it’s the question of meaning. For my friend, this lack of meaning prevents him from being able to enjoy the movie, while for me it’s not an issue.

At the end of the day—I have more fun. Because I’m not looking for profound, life-changing themes in our Friday-night film, I can just enjoy it.

Sometimes a movie gives you something to think about, but not always—and definitely not often. But that’s not a problem for me, as I consider the majority of movies nothing more than short bouts of entertainment.

And now we’re getting to books, because—if you think about it—they’re not much different.

In today’s day and age, when indie writers are as abundant as the movies you can find on Netflix, when anyone can self-publish and publishing houses no longer reign or get to decide what literature will reach the public’s eyes, we’re entering the era of quantity, where quality is increasingly rare.

Books are no longer expected to leave a deep, long-lasting imprint on the reader. You likely won’t remember much about the book you’re currently reading once you get started on the next one on your reading list.

The question that remains is this—is that a bad thing?

Once Upon a Time

Long ago, when the written word wasn’t available for just anyone, stories were told around the fire at night. Stories were carried on foot and in the storyteller’s mind as they walked from town to town to spread the tale. Stories, back then, were often meant to scare or serve as vessels of arbitrary morals or warnings.

Since then, books have turned into the art form of the intellectual: Dostoevsky wrote about the human spirit, questioning morals and consciousness. Bulgakov undermined and ridiculed the social regime. And there are many more examples beyond the ones I felt drawn to mention due to my Soviet upbringing.

But then again, there is also Twilight. So if meaning isn’t required for popularity, why aim for it in the first place?

Read More Books And You’ll Be Smarter

I’m sure many of us heard this phrase in our childhood, in any of its variations.

There’s no question that reading meaningful literature can be intellectually stimulating. When the meaning isn’t always straightforward, and the characters represent ideas more than people, reading a book is like solving a riddle—you have to uncover the hidden meaning.

Take Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita for example—while I found the character of Behemoth the cat merely amusing, my parents found criticism of the Soviet regime in the cat’s words and actions, ones I was too unfamiliar with to understand.

A thought-provoking book can open the door to meaningful insights and fuel conversation for years.

A Portrait of The Time

Not only can a meaningful book make you think, but it can also offer a glance into another time and place, preserving people’s habits, thoughts, and issues at the era.

Read The Picture of Dorian Gray and you’ll open a doorway into a world where people spoke in lengthy sentences, held values different from our own, and didn’t find it cringy to confess the deep feelings of their bromances.

A meaningful book can help capture a moment in time, comment on its social structures, and portray the sentiments of its people.

Maybe people reading The Picture of Dorian Gray in 2025 will find it too wordy and emotional—but they’ll also get a sense of how it was to live in that era, through the eyes of the characters.

You too can write a story that will transcend from mere entertainment into a timeless fragment of a time, a place, a sentiment or an event.

To Meaning or Not To Meaning

So if you want people talking about your book, thinking about it late at night when they can’t fall asleep, or reluctantly learning about it in literature class—you’ll want to think long and hard about the meaning behind the story you’re writing.

But what if you don’t have a strong message people will discuss in book clubs for years? Or you’ve had enough of social commentary to put it into a book (I know I have)? Does that mean you don’t have a valid reason to write?

Thinking back to those old storytellers gathering the village around the fire or in the local tavern—there was more than morals and warnings in their words. They also held the crowd captivated. Captivated by the intrigue of their story and the tone of their voice. They were entertainers, and being one just might be reason enough to write.

Off To The Fairyland We Go

I worked with a guy once who liked to overuse the word Escapism. We discussed it to the point of realizing that any activity other than sitting down and meditating, is basically a form of escapism.

From binge-watching a series to playing with your cat—we all yearn for moments in which we can escape the burden of our daily lives and the torrent of our thoughts, focusing instead on something completely different.

Books can offer just that—escapism.

If you think about it, the reason you were drawn to write in the first place is escapism—particularly if you’re writing fantasy.

We know all about the experience of being human, going to work, and leading ordinary lives, but through the lives of extraordinary people and creatures in lands the likes of which we’ve never seen, we get to forget our concerns for a while and experience something new.

Just like those meaningless movies my friends and I argue about—you don’t need a book to leave a profound imprint on you for it to be enjoyable. All you need is for it to be well-written, interesting, full of intrigue and relatable characters—and take you away from your human experience for a while.

The Battle of Popularity

Here’s a bit of mental stimulation for you—did more people read Anna Karenina or 50 Shades of Grey?

I haven’t checked the numbers, but my gut goes with the latter.

Yes, Anna Karenina is a meaningful piece some of you might have studied in school, but go out to the streets and talk to the common folk, and you’ll find that old Russian literature just isn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Spicy, easy-to-read kitsch often is, though.

Let’s admit it—simpler books and movies are more accessible, and thus, more popular. And you can’t blame people—when you’re tired after a day at work, full of meetings and intellectual stimulation (at least in some roles), more mental stimulation isn’t always what you need.

So if your goal is to provide fun, to elicit emotion or just to entertain—deep meaning might not be something you need to worry about.

Conclusion

For me, the reason to write was always simple: I had an idea that felt exciting, and I loved the characters I conjured on the page. That is all.

If your idea happens to have a deeper meaning—by all means, go for it. But if your soul yearns to write about a simple adventure with lots of action, some goblins, and little moral weight—don’t let that stop you.

What makes a book meaningful isn’t always clear. The DragonLance Chronicles can be meaningful to one person, while another can only appreciate War and Peace. And vice versa—you might read Crime and Punishment and get nothing out of the experience.

Meaning is subjective, and so is your reader’s interpretation of your work.

So find a topic that lights your inner fire, fall for your characters, bring them to life, and most importantly—get to writing!