For aspiring writers looking to break into fiction, one thing that can be challenging to navigate (aside from making sense of all the genres and sub-genres) is determining to what extent your prose will include what I will refer to as spice.

My own novel, Suffer A Sea Change, keeps it clean for several reasons. I wanted to focus on character development and to delve without distraction into important issues such as family dysfunction and the safe use of artificial intelligence. (Plus, I wanted my mom—the former Baptist missionary—to be able to read it.)

This is not to say that spicier mainstream books can’t include a moral component as well. One novel I read recently that surprised me in that regard is worth pointing out.

I refer to The Paris Architect by Charles Belfoure. Set in German-occupied Paris during World War II, the novel features a Frenchman who is coaxed into actively resisting the Nazis through the use of his special skills.

Though presented initially as self-absorbed and amoral, the architect referred to in the title moves toward embracing what is good and noble. He ultimately places himself in grave danger for the sake of others.

What’s My Motivaton?

I also deeply appreciated a secondary character in the story. This wealthy industrialist is portrayed sympathetically as a Christian who takes seriously Christ’s injunction to defend the oppressed. Unfortunately, he does not develop a great deal during the course of the narrative, as his main purpose is to the keep the plot moving forward.

Aside from establishing the principle that it is proper to resist a rapacious invader’s plans for genocide, however, the novel offers little toward a nuanced study of man’s capacity for destruction. Which is probably a good thing. Had the author included more passages meant to stimulate readers’ intellects, these would have been quickly overshadowed by his blatant aim to titillate.

Don’t get me wrong. The Paris Architect is a page-turning thriller. But the overarching motif I gleaned from the story is that you really can fight evil while enjoying the finer things of life. After all, the central character thwarts the Nazis while indulging in tailored clothes, haute cuisine, a luxury car, and habañero-level sex with two of the most fashionable women in France (neither of whom are his wife).

In my own book, intimacy is implied—but only to add dimension to complex characters. There are also no overt depictions of violence.

So why choose to avoid these sensational extras, even though they’ve become a standard feature of bestselling fiction? Because sex and gore are no substitute for what really matters in a novel: taut prose, believable characters, and a compelling theme. In other words, if you focus on the spice you risk ruining the flavor.