(Not sure how these prompts work? See this post.)
According to legend, candy canes were designed to remind us of Christ--the shape resembles either a shepherd's crook or a J (for Jesus), the stripes represent His suffering (Isa. 53:5) the red represents His blood, the white represents our purification in Him, and the green ribbon represents our new life in Him.
As promised, a continuation of the Symbolic Dichotomies series I started earlier this year.
"Good and Evil" is a huge and highly controversial topic, so instead of trying to discuss every aspect of this dichotomy, we're going to look at how Good and Evil appear most often in stories: in the form of characters.
Some of my favorite fiction tropes are variations on "we're not so different, you and I," where the hero and villain:
These storylines leave the hero (and the reader) asking, "What makes them different?" or often "Where did it go wrong?" Questions such as these are what make the "we're not so different" trope so powerful--they force the reader to spot differences between two characters. In these differences lies the author's message on what makes someone good or evil.
I could talk all day about how much I love this trope, but for our purposes, let's turn our attention to how writers can create two characters who are essentially the same, but one is good and the other evil.
There are a lot of psychological resources out there that are geared towards writers (KM Weiland's articles on shadows and archetypes, for example), but to keep things simple, I'm going to point to two (very good) resources for writers that go hand in hand: The Positive Trait Thesaurus and The Negative Trait Thesaurus, both by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi. These books are well-organized, layman-friendly, and chockfull of psychological tidbits that will improve your characters and help you flesh out the hero-villain dynamic, among myriad other uses.
Let's say I already know a little bit about what I want my hero to be like. Let's say her three primary good traits are friendly, persuasive, and confident--she's an extravert. If I look these up in The Positive Trait Thesaurus, I can look under the "Negative Aspects" heading and find what happens when this trait goes sour--for example, if a friendly character is too obliging, their own needs might go unmet, which is a good villain backstory. Persuasive characters can also be manipulative. Confident characters can become arrogant and look down on others.
Not only does this method of finding the dark side of good traits help me invent flaws for my hero to struggle with, but it also helps me figure out what a mirror-image villain might look like: Unsatisfied, manipulative, and arrogant.
But let's say one of my friends has the opposite problem: She knows who her villain is, but she doesn't have a hero suitable to fight him. Perhaps this villain is possessive, temperamental, and extravagant--a real drama queen. (Or king, in this case.) The Negative Trait Thesaurus also lists positive aspects of the flaws. The hero might be fiercely protective of his friends, emotionally sensitive, and generous--still dramatic and flamboyant, but in a healthier way.
Not all Good and Evil dynamics in stories are structured this way--for example, many heroes are designed to be the opposite of the villain--but the "we're not so different" trope is so effective in sending a message about Good and Evil because it's nuanced. Instead of suggesting that some traits are good and others bad, it highlights that the traits themselves can be used for Good or Evil. Some common themes you might see conveyed with this "darkened mirror" method might be:
Your hero with certain traits behaves one way. Your villain with the same traits turned upside-down behaves another way. This is a powerful way to show readers your concept of Good and Evil.
One last thing to bear in mind when writing a "Good and Evil" theme: Good and Evil are not subjective, though they can manifest in many different circumstances. Traits may be coins with two sides, but Good and Evil are disparate. There is no such thing as "morally gray."
Some behaviors are innately evil, such as murder, sexual perversion, and child abuse. Some behaviors are innately good: speaking the truth to those who need it, showing Jesus' love to those who least deserve it, and protecting the innocent from those who would harm them.
Sometimes Good becomes unpopular or even culturally unacceptable. That doesn't make it Evil. Sometimes Evil becomes common or even socially required. That doesn't make it Good. Isaiah 5:20 states it clearly: "Woe to those who call evil good and good evil, who put darkness for light and light for darkness, who put bitter for sweet and sweet for bitter!" There are consequences for subverting the Truth. Writers have been given a great gift of eloquence, and we must use it responsibly.
Sometimes we're faced with a moral dilemma, in life or in our writing: Is it okay to lie to save a life? Is it okay to avenge a loved one's death? These situations don't disprove the existence of objective Good and Evil. Instead, they give us questions to thoughtfully consider in light of God's Word.
Should writers then be afraid of dealing with themes as important and difficult as Good and Evil? Of course not! The truth still needs to be spoken, even when it's difficult. If you feel called to write about Good and Evil, pray that the Holy Spirit will guide you. The task may be too difficult for us, but with God, all things are possible.
Other Posts in This Series:
Hey y'all! I just wanted to drop in and spotlight a story by a fellow young writer Abby Burrus, who I've had the pleasure of interviewing on my author website. Abby's book Beneath the Willow Tree is part of the Christian Indie Black Friday sale, and is currently free for a limited amount of time! This is a great opportunity to support a young writer as she breaks into the publishing world.
Beneath the Willow Tree is a Christian story about a Christian fantasy short story about fear, trust, pain, and a choice offered to a slave girl. Here's the synopsis from Abby's website:
Curious? Find out more on Goodreads. You can find Beneath the Willow Tree on Amazon, but if you want to take advantage of the special sale, check here! Interested but not quite sure? When you subscribe to Abby's newsletter, which you can find on her website, you get to read the first part of the story for free--a great way to test it out.
You can find Beneath the Willow Tree on Amazon, but if you want to take advantage of the special sale, check here!
Here's a little bit more about Abby:
Abby Burrus is a horse lover, Christian, and avid reader. Her reading varies from C. S. Lewis's Chronicles of Narnia to historical nonfiction and anything else she thinks she'll like. Her writing can be just as varied, although her all time favorite genre to read and write is Christian fantasy. Her writing is meant to entertain, inspire, and encourage people in this world and at the same time point them to another one.
I hope you check out Beneath the Willow Tree and Abby's website. Have a great day, y'all!
Hello, fellow writers! We're here today to discuss a tough subject: "niceness" in writing. Of course, no one wants to be "mean" in his work, but often we can come across as mean without intending it. No matter how carefully we write an essay or opinion piece, if enough people read it, at least one of them will be upset, for some reason or other. So what's a writer to do? Here are a few things to keep in mind when considering "niceness" as a factor in your writing:
1. "Nice" and "Good" are different. If I asked you to make a list of what traits make someone a "good person," you might include honesty, obedience, humility, love, patience, and kindness, among others. But guess what? Not all of these traits are "nice" when considered individually. Honesty can be hurtful, love can mean doing what's best for others even if they don't appreciate it, obedience can make you look like a goody-two-shoes or tattler. Goodness is doing what's right for the sake of others; niceness is doing what's pleasant for others.
How does this apply to writing? Well, truth hurts sometimes. Our readers might need to hear something they won't like. If you believe the truth will upset them, that's no reason not to tell it. The trick is to "speak truth in love." You're not doing this to prove yourself right or make a point--you're writing with the intention of improving the world or someone's life. If your friend asks you to keep a harmful secret, would you do it? Or would you have a heart-to-heart talk about the morality of the situation? You would do what's right, even if it hurts, because you love your friend enough to look past the emotions of the moment to the long term effects.
Takeaway: When you write, write as if you love your readers: That is, with humility, honesty, and kindness.
2. A note about "sensitive phrasing:" Some style guides suggest alternate phrasings (e.g., "person with mental illness" instead of "mentally ill person") as "more sensitive." I have no problem with being kind to the mentally ill. But what I do have a problem with is unnecessary wordiness in situations that are unlikely to upset anyone in the first place. When you read an article, do you notice or care if the author put the word "person" before the descriptors? No. And does putting "person" after the descriptors automatically signal hatred and evil intent? Certainly not.
In a similar fashion, "barnacle phrases" meant to lessen the impact of our ideas do exactly that: lessen the impact of our ideas--and not in a "nice" way. "Kind of," "sort of," "tend to," "maybe," "might," "could," "perhaps"--cut them out wherever possible. Oftentimes we put them in our sentences to decrease the potential perceived hurtfulness of our words, when really all they do is weaken the writing. Women are especially prone to this; we do this in our speech all the time, and it becomes a habit.
Takeaway: Don't let your inclination towards "niceness" weaken your writing or draw power from your words. If you truly love your readers, this will shine through whether your phrase things in special ways or not.
3. Some quotes from writers on the topic! Here are some quotes from famous (and not-so-famous) writers that might shed light on this difficult balancing act:
"Write hard and clear about what hurts." -Ernest Hemingway
"First tell the truth, then give your opinion." -Dennis Prager
"Raise your words, not your voice. It is rain that grows flowers, not thunder." -Rumi
"Close the door. Write with no one looking over your shoulder. Don't try to figure out what other people want to hear from you; figure out what you have to say. It's the one and only thing you have to offer." -Barbara Kingsolver
"Assume the reader knows nothing. But don't assume the reader is stupid." -Ann Handley
"Write the best, most amazing book you can, the wisest, most honest, most human book you have inside." -Anne Lamott
"A writer is a person who cares what words mean, what they say, how they say it. Writers know words are their way towards truth and freedom, and so they use them with care, with thought, with fear, with delight." -Ursula K. Leguin
"Journalism is printing what someone else does not want printed. Everything else is public relations." -George Orwell
"You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should've behaved better." -Anne Lamott
"How many times have people used a pen or paintbrush because they couldn't pull the trigger?" -Virginia Woolf
"A drop of ink may make a million think." -Lord Byron
"The difficulty of literature is not to write, but to write what you mean." -Robert Louis Stevenson
"Write what disturbs you, what you fear, what you have not been willing to speak about. Be willing to split open." -Natalie Goldberg
"Writing is one of the crossroads where what is most disturbing can be explored and investigated without destroying yourself or others. This is one of the highest purposes of the arts." -Bonni Goldberg
"What people are ashamed of usually makes a good story." -F. Scott Fitzgerald
"I really believe that one should be able to imagine being somebody else. This is important for writers, but it's also important for readers, and for all human beings to be able to imagine being somebody else." -Yiyun Li.
(Image via Pinterest.)
As someone who writes, and someone who studies literature, I have been cursed with X-ray vision: I see the mechanics of everything I read on both a literary level and a nuts-and-bolts, how-does-it-work level.
You can probably relate: After studying poems for your English class, you might have to "switch off" the analytical part of your brain before turning to the day's Bible reading. After all, the Psalms are different from the works of Shelley or Keats.
But I'd argue that it isn't necessary to "switch off" your writer's mind before studying the Bible. In fact, it might even be beneficial. But how? Isn't it disrespectful, even sacrilegious, to read the Bible with the same mindset we might apply to fiction? Not necessarily. I believe this for several reasons.
First of all, reading from a different perspective inspires a new sense of wonder in the familiar tales we've heard dozens of times. Reading about Christ's death from a religious perspective is (dare I say it?) boring for the born-and-raised Christian. The Gospel may be good news, but it's also old news. God's mercy is new every morning, but the words in that beat-up Bible on our nightstand? Not so much.
But reading about Christ's life from a literary perspective inspires so much awe in even experienced Christians. It's just a great story, loaded with symbolic meaning. So there's this guy, who's human but also God, which sounds like an awesome story premise already. We see literary devices from the moment of His birth, and I'll just point out three for now:
Then, fast forward about thirty years, this guy becomes super popular and starts teaching these radical ideas and performing impossible feats. But the leaders of the people fear His power and plot to bring Him to an end. Great suspense. Then one of His closest friends betrays Him in exchange for money. Plot twist! We didn't see it coming, but when we look back on the traitor's past actions, it totally fits his character. So then our Hero is captured and sentenced to death.
The irony is stunning. Jesus is shown no mercy by the crowds during Passover, which is a celebration of God's ancient mercy on them. It's also a mirror moment, because they're about to be shown even greater mercy that will last forever. And it's beautiful symbolism, because like a sacrificial lamb, Jesus was perfect and innocent. Somehow, even though He was all-powerful and confronted with numerous threats and temptations, He never sinned. So when He dies, He takes all the sins of everyone on Himself. How that works, no one knows, but it's good story mechanics to leave a little mystery in the plot. And the most amazing thing is, the Hero knew all of this would happen. He knew He would die in the most painful possible way, and unjustly, at that. And He could have stopped it if He wanted to--He was all-powerful, remember? But He didn't, because He wanted everyone else to live.
If we saw this kind of sacrifice in the movies, we'd be crying in our popcorn. But when we read it in our Bibles, we don't. We take it as straight fact--which it is--but all the beautiful literary finesse and story value are thrown by the wayside. Good grief, do you think all that symbolism and irony was a coincidence? That everything just happened to occur in a way that made a perfect story? No. God intended it that way. And by ignoring the beauty of His Story, we become jaded. By putting the Bible on a literary pedestal clearly labeled "DO NOT TOUCH," we don't do it extra honor--we dishonor it. Truth doesn't have to be dry, and analysis isn't the same as criticism.
Second, by looking at the Bible like it's a history textbook (though honestly, few of us even read it that closely), we can easily fall prey to misinterpretation. Sometimes we forget that the Bible isn't a perfectly self-contained unit, and these events didn't occur in a vacuum. There is, as with every book, context and subtext and a target audience, which affect how the piece is written--or in this case, what commands were issued.
Sometimes looking at context helps us satisfy our curiosity on trivial issues: Why were the Israelites prohibited from eating certain foods or touching certain substances? Why were they considered "unclean" if they had a certain type of sore on their body? Modern science tells us that many of the processes involved with ceremonial cleanliness, such as washing with water or quarantining for certain amounts of time, actually prevent the spread of disease. God cares for His people. They didn't know what germs were or what caused sickness, so He set up a safety net for them.
Other times, it can save us from rebellion or doubt. In the book of 1 Peter, Peter discusses how slaves should act and how they should be treated (1 Peter 2:18-25). But why doesn't he condemn slavery altogether, one might ask? Slavery is an absolutely horrid thing, and if God doesn't oppose it, we may doubt His goodness or the truth of His Word. Well, you have to understand that slavery as we think of it--race-based kidnapping, forced labor, the impossibility of escape--isn't the "slavery" of the New Testament. In historical context, we see that Peter is discussing indentured servitude--someone in deep poverty might willingly pledge to be someone's servant for seven years, so that they might survive. After that, they could either choose to serve for the rest of their life, or go free. You could be born into servitude, but oftentimes it was a personal choice. Anyone might become an indentured servant, no matter their race or social class. It's likely God would condemn the kind of slavery seen in early American history--but that's not what Peter was discussing at all. Now that we know the context, we can read the passage with greater trust in God's goodness and the Bible's truth.
Not only that, but if you really want to understand God's Word, you can't look at it as an arbitrary book of rules and fairytales. You have to assume, as you would when reading a story, that there is a purpose behind everything included. The Bible is rational, something that even Christians forget. We become so consumed with what God says that we forget to wonder why He says it. The Bible is an infallible work of writing, so there are no unnecessary scenes or plot points. Every element works towards the theme of the piece. Why is the Book of Ecclesiastes necessary? It seems like the not-quite-coherent ramblings of a pessimistic king in his old age. If we read the Bible as if it's just something we have to take at face value, we might just shrug our shoulders and say, "It's true because it's in the Bible." (My old pastor would argue, "It's in the Bible because it's true.") But reading with purpose in mind, we see the meaninglessness of life when we know we're going to die anyway, the pointlessness of good behavior when we all end up in the same Hell. We see why the world needs Jesus in the first place. We see the purposelessness of our lives without Him.
So you see, reading the Bible from a writer's or literature major's perspective isn't irreverent. In fact, it's downright helpful.
Welcome to the last four days of the Christian Writers' Reading Challenge! Thank for sticking with us to the end. :) If you're joining us for the first time, don't worry, there are links to the previous parts of the Challenge below, and it's not necessary to complete all the parts or to do them in order for the reading plans to make sense.
Day 1: Short Works by JRR Tolkien
Days 2-8: Walking on Water by Madeleine L'Engle
Days 9-16: Adorning the Dark by Andrew Peterson
Days 17-25: If You Want to Write by Brenda Ueland
Day 26: "On Stories" by CS Lewis
Day 27: "On Fairy Stories" by JRR Tolkien
Days 28-39: Two Books on Craft
Days 40-54: Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
For these last few days, we'll read The Writing Life by Annie Dillard.
Days 55-58
Quick Guide:
Required Material: The Writing Life by Annie Dillard
Reading Guide: You have four days to read seven chapters. It's a slim book written in a very literary, matter-of-fact voice, and shouldn't give you too much trouble.
Notes: Annotate, and once again reflect on the faith that goes into art. Pay attention to the anecdote about the yellow pine and the tide in Chapter 6. Also, you may want to copy the following Michaelangelo quote and pin it up where you can see it when you write: "Draw, Antonio, draw, Antonio, draw and do not waste time." I have saved the artsiest book for last. You may have noticed that the authors of the books we've read may disagree with each other on aspects of writing such as inspiration, writer's block, Art vs Craft, the purpose of story, the necessity of solitude, etc. That's okay. None of them are necessarily wrong. Different methods work for different people, and no two writers have had the same experience.
Deep Dive:
Hard Words: I'll have to admit, there were some words in this book I had to look up. Here are a few of the more obscure terms Dillard uses:
Epistemological--having to do with the theory of knowledge
Encysted--enclosed is a cyst
Prie-dieu--a stool with elbow-rests, typically knelt on for prayer
Carrel--a cubicle with a desk
Catenary--a U-shaped curve
Titrated--in this context, carefully adjusted and balanced
Peritoneum--the membrane supporting and connecting one's internal organs
Notes for Christians:
"Process is nothing; erase your tracks," Dillard says. As writers, especially in the editing stages, it can be difficult to let go of our original ideas and images. But if they no longer serve the story, then they must go, because they no longer serve the reader or God.
This book is built of anecdotes, metaphors, and quotes. To some extent, all the books we've read have been similarly constructed, but in The Writing Life it is particularly clear, because Dillard doesn't use the smooth transitions and overarching conclusions expected of writers. She instead leaves the reader to make these connections for himself--which a powerful technique, if you can get away with it, and she does.
"The beginning of wisdom... is to get you a roof," so the quote goes. King Solomon wrote books of poetic wisdom--but he was a king. He could afford to meditate on the abstract for long periods of time. Most people don't have that luxury. There is a hierarchy of needs that applies to all living beings: We must survive before we can write about our survival. This goes hand in hand with the idea of having a paying job alongside your writing job.
"He must have faith sufficient to impel and renew the work, yet not so much faith he fancies he is writing well when he is not." In the first half of the sentence, faith is inspiration (a divine word), confidence, however you like to think of it. But in the second half of the sentence, this faith is tempered by discernment. Writers are terrible discerners. We're our own harshest judges as fiercest advocates. Sometimes we need other people to help us. But we can also pray for both the confidence and the discernment necessary to write well.
"A writer looking for subjects inquires not after what he loves best, but after what he alone loves at all." Edgar Allan Poe wrote a poem to this effect, titled "Alone." I suggest you read it.
The analogy about the Alaska cedar and the tide is a good metaphor for how a writer's faith works. We see an idea and we latch onto it, hoping to pull it home and make something of it. But the idea refuses. We're pulling in the wrong direction; the idea cannot go that way right now. (Remember Bird by Bird? The Gulf Stream can flow through a straw only if the straw is aligned with the Gulf Stream.) But we keep pulling, because we know that this idea has value--this resolve almost reminds one of the parable of the treasure hidden in the field, Matthew 13:44. And eventually, our perseverance pays off, and the idea begins to follow us back. But we could not have brought the idea home if we hadn't stuck with it through the hard parts. If we had cut it loose and returned safely home, our safety would be our only reward. And a poor reward safety is.
Writing, like flying, takes skill as well as faith. We gain skill through faith: to become masterful, we must practice, and practice means risk. Perhaps our mess-ups with the pen wouldn't kill us, unlike those of a plane, but they set us back and potentially embarrass us. Writers need faith that things will eventually become easier, or if not easier, then better. Then they will.
Study Questions:
Why does Dillard make "are-writing" a single, hyphenated word? (Near the end of Chapter One.)
Where do you write? What tools aid your process? Is it possible to simplify?
Why might one go to an island to write? Why might one subject oneself to "sensory deprivation" to write? What does this suggest about the art?
How do you prepare yourself to write?
Interpret the dream in chapter four. Why does Dillard tell us this story?
Do you like sentences? (Extra Credit: Rewrite the VeggieTales theme song. Make it about writing.)
How is the writing life like that of Dave Rahm?
Bonus Materials:
Sixty days of reading wasn't enough for you?
If you want poetry, try Emily Dickinson, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Gerard Manley Hopkins, William Wordsworth, and many others--these are just a few of my favorite Christian poets. (Linked to each name is a work by the poet.)
If you want nonfiction, try The Truth and Beauty by Andrew Klavan, about Jesus and the great Romantic poets.
If you want nonfiction about poetry, try The Roar on the Other Side by Suzanne U. Rhodes, a manual to writing poetry by a Christian poet.
If you're curious about what nonbelievers think about art and spirituality, try Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg, a Buddhist. The writing advice is sound and the perspective intriguing. Then again, I've always been curious about how people with beliefs different from mine see the world, so perhaps this book isn't for everyone.
Want more great reading material to improve your writing? Here are some books that didn't make it into the Challenge, but are sure to earn a place on your desk:
And here are some online resources for Christian writers:
Hello, fellow writers! If you're a Christian writer with a preference for fantasy, then this post is for you. (But if you're not, don't worry, you're not excluded.)
Christian fantasy writers often face a trying dilemma with their work: Magic or no magic? On the one hand, some Christians might call magic "wicked" or "evil." On the other hand, most publishers of fantasy prefer, if not require, some sort of "magic" in the story. Non-magical fantasy is hard to find on the market, and hard to find an audience for. So what's a Christian fantasy writer to do?
I think the first question we should ask ourselves is not, "Is magic evil?" but "What is magic?" In the Bible, "magic" usually refers to witchcraft or necromancy--yucky stuff that humans are not supposed to do. (See 1 Samuel 28:3-24 for an example.) In that context, magic is evil.
However, that is an extraordinarily narrow definition of magic, and is not the kind of "magic" you see in most fantasy books. In most fantasy stories, "magic" refers to special abilities that most normal humans don't have (at least in our real world). It's rather difficult to define in positive terms, so let's look at what magic is not for a second:
If that's not what's happening in your story, it's not magic, and it's nothing for you to worry about. You're not sinning by giving the characters in your story special abilities. And if what happens in your story does fit that definition of magic, then not all is lost: As long as this magic is clearly portrayed as evil (i.e., something the villains do), then you're still abiding by Christian morality, depicting evil as evil and good as good.
Here's a few other finicky questions you might have about magic:
What about spells? Well, what is the purpose of the spell? If it's an incantation meant to summon up the dead/evil spirits/etc., then it's prob'ly "bad magic." But if the spell has the same purpose as say, a wand--channeling the power you already possess in a more efficient manner--then you're all good. (Another thing to take into account is that words are traditionally regarded as extremely powerful: God spoke everything into existence, after all. If your use of spells is meant to mirror the power of logos in a holy way, then you're prob'ly doing something right.)
What about raising the dead (not just communicating with them)? That's iffy territory right there. Most Christians would prob'ly say that raising the dead through your own power is an act of evil, since authority over life and death belongs to God. There are a few specific instances, such as when that power is granted by God, as in 2 Kings 4:17-37, that it's okay. But otherwise, you should prob'ly avoid it.
What about immortality? That's another gray area. Let's look at how immortality is depicted in famous Christian fantasy: In the Wingfeather Saga by Andrew Peterson, drinking special water can heal/restore life/grant immortality. The villains use it to lengthen their life for selfish purposes, but the heroes also use it to heal and restore life. So some of the morality lies in proper use. Looking at The Lord of the Rings by JRR Tolkien, we see that the heroes can go to the Undying Lands and live forever, which could be seen as an allegory for Heaven. So some of the morality lies in how immortality is gained. This is a good place to use your own better judgment.
What about prophets/apostles? That falls under the "power granted by God/benevolent deity" clause, and isn't "bad magic."
What about seeing the future? Once again, the morality lies in the way it's done. If elaborate rituals are necessary, or calling upon spirits or an evil power, then it's prob'ly "bad magic." But if it's a natural ability or a gift granted by God, then you're in the clear.
Finally, a note about how the word "magic" is used by writers: Everyone from fantasy worldbuilders to superhero comic writers uses the term "system of magic" to refer to the rules, limitations, and consequences surrounding the origins and use of special abilities. This term doesn't refer to magic specifically, but to any system of abilities that doesn't exist in our real world.
Which brings me to one last important point: Even if the system of abilities in your story doesn't technically fall in the domain of "magic," you can still refer to it as "magic" as a convenient handle. It's not ideal, since this double-meaning is what got Christians in the "fantasy magic is evil" mess in the first place, but unfortunately there's not really a better word for a set of special abilities that doesn't exist our world as we know it. (If you know a better word, please comment! I'd love to know alternative terminology, for clarity's sake.)
Hello, fellow writers! Sorry for the slight delay, it's been a busy weekend. Welcome to the Christian Writers' Reading Challenge. If you're just joining us, we're here to learn what it means to be a Christian writer and how to better serve God with our work. Of course, if you're not a Christian, you're welcome to read along--the works in challenge are full of solid writing advice no matter your faith (or lack thereof). Thanks for coming!
ICYMI, here are the links to the other parts of the Challenge. You don't have to go in order or read all the posts in order to make sense of each one, but if you want to, here they are:
Day 1: Short Works by JRR Tolkien
Days 2-8: Walking on Water by Madeleine L'Engle
Days 9-16: Adorning the Dark by Andrew Peterson
Days 17-25: If You Want to Write by Brenda Ueland
Day 26: "On Stories" by CS Lewis
Day 27: "On Fairy Stories" by JRR Tolkien
Days 28-39: Two Books on the Writing Craft by Christian Authors
For the next two weeks, we're reading Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott, a classic among "writing books."
Days 40-54
Quick Guide
Required Material: Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
Reading Guide: You have been given 15 days to read 29 chapters and a lengthy, solid-gold introduction. Prepare to be educated and entertained.
Notes: Lamott is worldlier and more down-to-earth than L'Engle or Peterson, but this is a virtue rather than a flaw: In Bird by Bird, you will see the reality of suffering as most people experience it. Because often, when people die, we cope in unhealthy ways. Often, when we stub our toes, we cuss. In this book, we are not given a picture of the world as it should be, but of the world as it is, and we receive tips on how to bring the two a bit closer together through love, perseverance, and terrible first drafts.
Annotate the crap out of this book. There are so many good quotes and passages that ring true. Read "Looking Around" and "The Moral Point of View" especially carefully. Throughout this book you will see a theme: Writing is an act of faith. To write well for God requires a lot of trust: that the right words are out there, that this is what God wants, that it's all for something and not a waste of time. The creative process that Brenda Ueland wrote about passionately and abstractly is here put down in concrete language. The world is broken, and life sometimes sucks, but we as Christians have a responsibility to remain hopeful and keep fighting for what's good. Lamott offers helpful techniques and reminds us not to take ourselves so seriously.
Deep Dive
Weird Stuff: This book isn't for everyone. It contains content that many Christians are uncomfortable with, such as cussing, sexual innuendos, and mentions of drugs and homosexuality. Lamott is nonetheless a Christian, and her observations on writing and living a writer's life are funny, relatable, and generally accurate (if occasionally exaggerated). Once again, different perspectives are what allow us to see in three dimensions.
Notes for Christians:
One thing writers, especially Christian writers, have to be wary of is how much pride we take in what is, in the end, something we don't have to "show up" for. For all the difficulties writers face, we have comfortable white-collar jobs (or if not that, enough time and mental energy to write, which is something many people don't have). This isn't to say our lives are easy, but they could be a lot worse, and we shouldn't smugly play the victim and simultaneously whine and brag at social events, "Writing is soooo hard..." (Writing Exercise: Make a counterargument against the point I just made. There are prob'ly several, and you wouldn't be wrong.)
In the first chapter, "Getting Started," we see a very different kind of ethics than that of Beate Not the Poore Desk. Lamott suggests writing down everything, including the ugly private things that cast your loved ones in a not-so-flattering light. One of Lamott's better-known quotes is, "You own everything that happened to you. Tell your stories. If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better," which I believe came from elsewhere in this same book. While it may be true that your story is your story, and you have a right to tell it, the motives with which you tell it matter. Vengeance and judgment belong to the LORD alone. So how do we view this advice from a Christian perspective? Lamott acknowledges her judgmental-ness and sinfulness later in the book. She confesses that her gut reactions to being wronged are different from how God would want her to react. This is important: We all act in ways we know we shouldn't--Paul's lament in Romans 7:15-20 is a prime example. What's important is recognizing sin's and the world's influence where it occurs.
In the second chapter, "Short Assignments," Lamott quotes E.L. Doctorow, and this quote is why I have the following phrases written down somewhere where I can see them when I write: "What story am I telling? Why does it matter? How far can I see?" Whenever I stop writing, I can look up at these questions, mentally answer them (or scribble responses in the margins of my story), and forge on. Write down some encouraging, practical questions or a good quote and pin them up where you can see them when you write. This can help nip writer's block in the bud.
The third chapter, whose title I shall omit for reasons of human decency and because my mother reads this blog, is prob'ly the most useful chapter in the book for the struggling writer, so don't be scared off by the title.
"I think perfectionism is based on the obsessive belief that if you run carefully enough, hitting each stepping-stone just right, you won't have to die," say Lamott. This is not only totally accurate, but also holds significance for Christian writers. We know as Christians that we are going to die, that we are imperfect, and we're bound to mess up. Yet as writers, we often strive for unattainable perfection in our ideas and words. We may not even realize we're using this double-standard. Writing is just like the rest of life: We can't do it perfectly, and on our own, we can't even make it worthwhile. God is the only one who can make our passionate pursuits more than a chasing after the wind.
Describe your school lunches. I've been homeschooled since I was a third grader, but I still remember the harrowing horrors of the lunchroom from the first and second grades. I never had a sandwich, that I can remember. I remember the baggies of cholate chips or blueberries, and the cups of yogurt for which I never seemed to have a spoon. The plastic spoons in the lunchroom were to be avoided, as they were washed and reused but never looked quite clean again. I remember apple slices tart with lemon juice to keep them from browning. Who knows, maybe there was a sandwich, but it never caused enough problems to become cemented in my memory. I remember the blueberries because one boy was allergic and went out of his way to tell me not to sit by him. I hated that kid. (Actually, I hated most of the kids--which prob'ly contributed to my mother's decision to homeschool.) The chocolate chips caused problems when I refused to give them to one of my so-called friends. And the yogurt, of course, I've already explained. As with Lamott's boy on the fence, the most valuable thing you get out of this exercise will almost certainly have nothing to do with food. For example, what I learned from my lunch-y tangent is that I tend to only remember (in any amount of detail) problems.
Lamott says, "One line of dialogue that rings true reveals character in a way the pages of description can't." Look at your stories and your characters. Find that one line of dialogue that tells the reader everything they need to know. It's there somewhere. In one of my stories, the line is "Bad things happen to good people for no reason. Get over it," which says a lot about my cheerful, supposedly-fearless MC.
Lamott defines plot as what people will do when they follow a dubious urge. The people who follow that urge are the heroes of the story--or the villains.
For a few seconds, let's stop looking at characters as heroes and villains, and look at them as simply people. Take your villain and your hero and lay them side by side. Make a list of each one's fears, flaws, and desires. Compare these basest attributes without bias. Is your hero really so good? Is your villain really evil? I once saw a writing prompt that went, "Draw a monster. Why is it a monster?" As Christian writers, we need to consider what makes our villains the "bad guys," and why we classify heroes as "good." If our reasons don't line up with God's word, we're doing something wrong.
"Every room is about memory," Lamott says. Take a look at the setting in your WIP. Undoubtedly, even if your story is set in another universe or on another planet or a thousand years ago or a century in the future, you'll recognize it from somewhere. My fantasy worlds tend to reflect the Oregon Coast or the Cascade Mountains, because these were the most beautiful places I knew growing up.
The seventeenth chapter, another title-omission, is also helpful, if a bit crude. But calming the voices in our heads is one thing many writers struggle with, so if that's your problem, it's worth a read.
Index cards. Commonplace books. If you haven't taken a hint yet, now is your time: Carry paper and pencil with you at all times so you can remember all the beauty and sorrow life has to offer and put it in your work.
Find a writing community. Honestly, it is one of the best things that will ever happen to your writing. You will gain accountability. You will have friends whose work you can criticize, and who will criticize your work. You can be a mentor, or be mentored. You can share your stresses and your laughter. Seriously. Find other writers, if you haven't already. There are more of us than you think. At the bottom of this blog there are links to various websites, such as The Habit and The Young Writer, which can provide online community, if there's no one nearby.
Alpha and beta readers, guys. These are amazing tools you can find on Goodreads or in your writing community who will read your draft or manuscript from a reader's perspective and tell you what works and what doesn't. Then it's left to you to edit. Some even do it for free, for fun, because they love to read it. Take advantage of this.
Writer's block is "like a little chickadee being hit by an H-bomb," says Lamott. And why is it so painful, and why does it put us in such a bad mood? I believe it's because we become unsatisfied with our work and ungrateful for all the wonderful things allotted to us. Bring gratefulness back into the equation, and the writer's block won't look so bad anymore. If you're not writing, you might as well be happy while you don't write.
I once wrote a picture book for my cousin's second birthday. My mom did the illustrations, I wrote the poetic description of a bumblebee, and we put it together on MPix. But even if you're not writing a present, you're always writing for at least three people: God, your audience, and yourself. Hopefully you can make something that is pleasing to all three.
Writing out of your "big dark place" while still maintaining hope can be a challenge. Perhaps you don't want to relive that dark place. Perhaps you're scared you'll fall into it again. I know I am. But when we write about a character conquering that darkness, we give the reader much-needed hope in their own dark place. That's something worth writing for, even if it scares us.
1 Peter 5:7 "Cast all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you."
Study Questions:
Introduction: Why did you start writing? If you are friends with other writers, then do you know why they started writing? Do you think there are certain traits writers have in common that cause them to write? If so, what are they?
1. How have you trained your brain to be creative? If you haven't tried to do this (it's an interesting experiment), then what are some ways you can try?
2. What gives you hope when you write? How can we, as Christian writers, find hope in God when we write?
3. "It is just a piece of chicken. It is just a bit of cake." How does this ever-so-sane advice apply to writers of all kinds? How can you apply it in your own writing? And when (or why) is it not true?
4. How should we pray before we write? In other words, what should we ask God for when it comes to our writing?
5. What is "Okay"? Is it possible to attain? Should we strive for it? Why or why not?
6. What photo are you trying to take with your current work in progress? Consider your past works. Is what you pointed at with your writer's camera what you ended up with a picture of?
7. How does who your character is in the face of death (imminent or conceptual) point towards God? Even in stories that aren't explicitly faithful, our worldview as Christians should shine through. How do you propagate a message of hope over fear?
8. How does your conflict or plot relate to/stem from your character(s)?
9. What is the difference between an intellectual understanding of your character, and an emotional understanding? In what way(s) do you understand your own characters? In what ways do you understand the people around you?
10. How can your setting be a symbol in your story? In your current story, what are all the things the setting could represent or bring to mind?
11. When is patience necessary as a writer? What are the benefits of this patience?
12. How do you plot? How do you edit? What do the two processes--one at the beginning of writing, one at the end--have to do with each other?
13. Is a writer ever done? What role does trust play in this process?
14. Are you gentle with yourself? Be honest. Or are you kicking yourself into the yard every time you mess up? What are some methods for being gentle that you can cultivate into habits?
15. Why are you writing the story you are writing, right now? Is this reason changing? Has it changed?
16. What is "your broccoli," in this context?
17. What does it mean, from a Christian perspective, to be "aligned with the Gulf Stream"? How do we know that this is the case? How can we align ourselves if we're not?
18. What is the line between jealousy and appreciation? How can we as Christians turn our jealousy into appreciation?
19. What does the chapter titled "Index Cards" teach us about joy?
20. Just for Fun: What is the weirdest thing you've had to research? (For example, I've had to look up the smell of chloroform.)
21. As Christian writers, how should we receive failure?
22. When do you show someone your writing, and how do you make that decision? What role does your faith play in that decision?
23. If you could write a letter to your past self, what would be in it?
24. What do you do when you have writer's block? What would you do if you thought you were dying? And why is there a difference?
25. How does a writer balance responsibility to the audience with responsibility to the self?
26. Why must you go through the forbidden door? Looking at it from a Christian perspective, should you? (I can see an argument for either way.)
27. How can the Christian writer offer communion in his work? How do you in yours? With whom is this communion?
28. What are some good Bible verses for when we're anxious, paranoid, and impatient? Pin 'em up where you can see 'em, because you'll need them at some point--if you're to be published, then hopefully soon.
29. Do you want to write?
Well, that's all for now, folks! Come back in a couple weeks for the last book of the Challenge, The Writing Life by Annie Dillard, and look at the literary side of the writing process.
Okay, that's the most boring title ever and sounds like a heading from a guide on research papers, but hear me out, because I'm about to quote some really good song lyrics.
As writers, we have to develop our own perspectives and our own unique voice in order to make our writing interesting to others: We have to give readers something they can't get for themselves. The contradiction of terms, though, is that we can't cultivate our own perspectives and voices for ourselves. We can't grow in isolation or become cultured in a sterile lab. Plants grow in the remains of other life. Voices are meant to be heard, and perspectives are only windows through which we see the world around us.
So how do writers develop this rich compost from which our voices and perspectives spring? By gathering information from multiple sources. Many writers keep a "commonplace book," a small notebook they carry around with them, where they record quirky observations, story ideas, fun facts, and striking quotes. I just got home from a church youth weekend today, and several pages of my commonplace book are filled with odd things the senior girls said and did, and the guest pastor's funny jokes and convicting ideas.
As you can see, writers collect inspiration--not only for stories, but for thought--from multiple sources. This is important for young writers, especially: We need to find our voice for our writing, but we also need to develop our own worldview in accordance with the truth. Sooner rather than later, we will be left do deal with reality on our own or with a group of equally inexperienced peers, and eventually our parents' axioms, which guided us faithfully through childhood, will fail.
This isn't to say the advice of others is bad or that our elders' worldview is wrong. But just as Christians must find our personal callings and develop our own relationships with God, writers must learn to view the world in our own unique way, or else we won't be able to write anything our parents couldn't have written.
How do we do this? By looking at information from multiple sources. One of my favorite political commentators said that if you want to separate fact from opinion, listen to podcasts from opposite sides of the aisle, and the information they both have in common is true. Developing our perspectives and personal philosophies works on a similar principle: We compare rich, striking ideas from books, music, historical figures, and our close advisors (among a plethora of other sources--I've only listed a few) and find what rings true for us. (And as Christians, testing all discoveries against the standard of Biblical truth.) A commonplace book is a good place to keep track of these similarities, differences, and sudden fusions of thought--don't you love it when a new idea gets your neurons firing and suddenly you're down a rabbit trail of philosophy?
Let's look at an example. Answer the following question on paper. Just jot down a few sentences or paragraphs about what you think it is, based on all of the influences in your life. Maybe reference a few of them, but don't look anything up right now. If you want to remember an exact detail, you can track it down alter for your own edification. Ready? Here we go:
What is love?
[This space intentionally left blank while you write. Seriously. Why are you reading this. Go track down some paper and a pen.]
When I think of love, my first thought is to narrow down the definition. The Greeks had around nine words for different kinds of love, including eros (romantic love), phileo (brotherly love), and agape (self-sacrificing love). When I think of true love, I usually think of agape, which is God's love for His people, and which is the kind of love referenced in 1 Corinthians 13, in the famous verses that begin, "Love is patient, love is kind." (Love is sometimes translated here as "charity," which is interesting to note.)
I also think about the different "love languages," of which there are five or seven, depending on who you ask. Even within the realm of romantic affection, there are different ways of giving and receiving love, which is an interesting parallel with the multiple Greek words.
But I also think of song lyrics. Not mushy romantic song lyrics (though I love those, too), but a couple specific lines from the chorus of "After the Storm," by Mumford and Sons.
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears.
This idea really appeals to me. When we're in love romantically, or in a loving relationship with friends or family or God, we shouldn't be afraid that they're going to disappoint us, betray us, or break our hearts, because if the love is real, they won't. True love shouldn't have us on our toes, terrified of messing up and being rejected. When we feel loved, we feel safe and we're not afraid.
And the last thing about love is something inspired by my pastor's sermon this morning, a line I'd love to use as dialogue in a story someday:
"Love is not a feeling. Love is an action. I will love you even when I don't feel like it, or else love is meaningless. Because you need love most when you behave in unlovable ways."
And that resonates with me because I think the idea (so deeply ingrained in our culture!) of love being an emotion is stupid and dangerous. Emotions change. True love remains the same. False love--mere attraction or infatuation--disappears when the object of our "love" is no longer attractive or fascinating. True love is a constant effort. True love wants the best for the object of its affection. True love "works out" because true lovers work.
Okay, that was a nice, long, heavily opinionated example of how we can draw ideas from different sources (in this case: the Bible, the field of psychology, the structure of a particular language, a sermon, and a pop song) to craft our own perspectives. Voice can be cultivated using the same methods: Read widely, listen widely, and you can't help but sound like the sources you've drawn from, and yet build on all of what you've collected. (And this building-up of new ideas on the old is what gives us our uniqueness, or else we're nothing but copycats and plagiarists.)
Ask yourself the hard questions. What is love? What is life? What is purpose? What is value? How are these vital elements found? Why does any of it matter at all? And what you discover will inevitably shine through in your writing.
Hello, fellow writers!
My dear friend and fellow blogger Morgan has started a website of her own, Morgan's Books, where she publishes articles on books, music, and Christian living. You should check it out!
Welcome to Day 28 of the Christian Writers' Reading Challenge! For the next twelve days, we'll be look at two books on the writing craft, both by Christian authors: Wordsmithy by Douglas Wilson and Beate Not the Poore Desk by Walter Wangerin, Jr.
Here are links to the previous parts of the Challenge, in case you missed it; however, each part can be done as a standalone, as well!
Day 1: Short Works by JRR Tolkien
Days 2-8: Walking on Water by Madeleine L'Engle
Days 9-16: Adorning the Dark by Andrew Peterson
Days 17-25: If You Want to Write by Brenda Ueland
Day 26: "On Stories" by CS Lewis
Day 27: "On Fairy Stories" by JRR Tolkien
Days 28-39
Because we are covering two books instead of a single work, the structure of this part of the challenge will be slightly different. There will be fewer Notes for Christians and only one Study Question per chapter.
Quick Guide
Required Material: Wordsmithy by Douglas Wilson (his son, ND Wilson, has written many children's books, including 100 Cupboards) and Beate Not the Poore Desk by Walter Wangerin, Jr.
Reading Guide: You have been given 4 days for Wordsmithy, which is slim and readable and shouldn't take you very long to finish. You have eight for Beate Not the Poore Desk, which is thicker and not quite as straight-forward.
Notes: Now that we've explored the connection between Christ and Art, and delved into the importance of Story itself, it's time to take a look at the nitty-gritty of Craft.
Wordsmithy is very practical and blunt but still fun to read. I suggest you pick up some of the habits within, such as keeping a commonplace book (if you do not already).
Beate Not the Poore Desk will ask some trying questions of you, your work, and your motives, and exposes the power of the written word in a way that helps a Christian understand logos. Like most pieces,we have studied, there are tie-ins to previous readings. Pay attention to Chapter 6, "Naming," and think of Tolkien. In Chapters 7 and 8, reflect on the ethical obligations of the writer. And finally, in Chapter 13, pay attention to the section titled "Risk" and the anecdote about The Book of the Dun Cow. Compare to Niggle's painting in Leaf by Niggle and the mysterious mountains that appeared in the background.
Deep Dive:
As both authors are still alive, there is no burning need for an About the Author.
Hard Words: Both authors use a mature vocabulary, and Wilson in particular has some tips for building a better word-pool of your own. But today, instead of focusing on definitions, I want to look at a singular word you'll encounter in Wangerin's book: Scop.
A scop (pronounced "shop") was an Old English oral poet: He created and recited poetry. Scop finds its origins as a word from the Old High German scapan, 'to create or form,' and ultimately Proto-Germanic skapiz, 'form, order.' Scop is a lingual relative of our modern-day word 'shape.' This etymology alone should you tell you a lot about poets, and Wangerin will elucidate this in Beate Not the Poore Desk. (Etymology is a fascinating field, and anyone interested in language, especially poets and writers, should take at least a brief look into etymology and the history of language.)
Notes for Christians:
A takeaway point from Wilson's takeaway points: Organize your writing in a way that can be clearly understood. This applies to fiction as well as nonfiction: If you switch POVs in your novel, follow a pattern or at least make the headings clear. If a scop, a poet, one of the earliest raconteurs, is a former and an orderer, then writers should also be concerned with form and order.
Wilson says, "Interesting people are interested people." This is good life advice as well as writing advice. When you genuinely listen to someone else, they like you better and will actually care what you have to say when you say it.
Homework: I'm sure you have a to-be-read list a mile long, and perhaps assigned school readings on top of that, but in your spare moments, peruse the never-ending hoard of books you haven't read and select three to finish over the next three months: One classic, one piece of slightly-more-modern fiction, and one nonfiction.
In Chapter 5 of Wordsmithy, we run into the idea of the sub-creator again, when Wilson admonishes us not to be stingy with our ideas. Fiction writers in particular are worldbuilders, the "gods" of tiny universes--be a responsible creator, and not a stingy one.
Most of us in America (I have heard that other nations are better about this) don't have the fluency required to translate our work into another language. So, in lieu of true translation, here is an amusing activity involving Google Translate (or a similar device). Paste one of your pieces into the translator and switch it to another language. Now take that language-version and translate it to another language. Repeat this process several times, then return to your native language. My brother, who is not a writer, stumbled upon this process as a source of entertainment, and has since created hopelessly garbled translations of comedic stories by friends and I have written. Much is lost in translation, yes, but brilliance is found, including some of the most creative and vivid descriptions I've ever heard: "Dust rose from his face, his black lips fell into a horrible hole, and his dirty yellow teeth were bare." "Her eyes were as green as a fried egg." "Then he starts laughing so hard that tears flow as the sadness changes."
Wilson's first two points are to live a real life and to read widely. His last point is to keep a commonplace book, and write down what you come across in these modes of living and reading. This is an excellent example of structure in nonfiction: The ending ties back to the beginning in a way that pleases the reader's mind, even if the reader can't identify why he is pleased. There are others ways to end a book, but if you're stuck, then the tie-back is as good a fallback position as any.
Wangerin says, "Everything, everything, works together to weave a tapestry clean and whole." This is the second day in a row we've seen a tapestry used as an image of integrity, or, to put in more plainly, consistency. Yesterday Tolkien mentioned a tapestry in the context of God's plan: that we see the messy underside of the tapestry, and not the beauty that God is creating. Here Wangerin talks about how a piece of writing should be: An application of the sub-creator theme.
"The piece, while it is being read, becomes the reader's universe," says Wangerin. As authors, we are creating worlds not just for characters, but for the readers as well, which we must take into consideration as we shape our worlds.
We find cinote similar to scop, in that both are order-makers.
Humility is the highest thing we can strive towards, because we are arrogant by nature--our first sin, as you may recall, stemmed from a longing to be like God (Genesis 3:5-6). Our culture treats "humility" as a state akin to "humiliation," but the two are different: Humiliation is what happens to us if we do not make the conscious choice to be humble. We may be sub-creators, but the prefix, sub, 'under,' matters. We are under God, as powerful as our words' effects may make us feel.
Wangerin compares bad writing to sin, and revision to forgiveness. For those who despise editing (I, for one, love it), this is a good way to frame the revision process: Forgiving your past self for her mistakes.
Wangerin says that in order to write without prejudice (not in the "racist" sense, but in the "pre-judging" of the world around us sense), "we must become strangers in a strange land." Where have we heard this before? The Bible. We are in the world, but not of the world: We have been chosen out of it (John 15:18-19). The Earth is not our home; it's just where we live, though we have become comfortable here over the centuries. In order to write well, we must see the world anew, as if we are not comfortable here and have not seen it before: We must remember that we are strangers.
Study Questions:
Wordsmithy
Introduction: Do some etymological digging. What is the difference between wordriht and mot juste?
1. What is authenticity? How is it achieved? Why should true authenticity be important to Christian writers?
2. Why are schoolchildren taught to write essays, but not stories?
3. Why should writers care about the development of words and grammar rules?
4. What danger does the echo-chamber effect of flattery pose to a writer's craft? Is there a "flattery industry" centered around the genre you prefer to write?
5. In what ways are self-conceitedness and "safety-net" humility alike?
6. Why has the past been assumed to be better than the present? In other words, why is the natural assumption that the world is in decline?
7. Are there any sources from which you have previously thought we should not learn? I don't mean in the sense of bad influences, but in the sense of worn-out, trivial, or lowly sources. Why did you distrust these sources of ideas?
Conclusion: Why can stability not be achieved in language? How can ideas remain stable when language changes?
Beate Not the Poore Desk
1. Writers sometimes don't realize when our writing gains a life of its own. How can this be? In other words, how can effect be so far separated from intent?
2. What role does the reader play in the "creation" or a work of writing?
3. What could be the unintended effects of the worlds we make? What are we telling readers about our passions? What experiences do we pour into our writing?
4. Where is the beginning of your story? Where is the end? Could there be better places?
5. How can we create order in chaos? (This hearkens back to L'Engle's concept of Cosmos from Chaos.) How can we emulate the scop in the Grendel example? How can we use our art to bring comfort to others? (And, is there an inherent tie between comfort and order?)
6. By what process do you name your characters, if any? Have you named any with the intent of a particular meaning? What is the relationship between Name and Language? Name and Story itself? Name and Order?
7. In the Wendell Berry quote, what did Berry mean by "straining upward toward the humble"?
8. In what ways can a story be used properly? In what ways can it be misused? Does misuse always require ill intent? Does Story itself, as whole, follow these patterns?
9. What is writer's block? Do you agree with Wangerin's assessment of its origins?
10. What do you tend to read? What sort of writing do you want to do, keeping in mind that value and art are not confined to "literary" writing?
11. How do your non-writing pursuits shape your literary work?
12. Look at your current WIP. What are your thesis and antithesis? Have you found the synthesis yet? If so, what is it, and what train of thought brought it about?
13. What's happening? What is the "voice" of your characters? Do they sound like you? How do different characters in the same story see the same situation differently?
14. What is the purpose of editing and revision?
15. How can Christian writers build the network of people necessary to support our writing careers without behaving selfishly or egotistically? How can we point away from ourselves and towards Christ, giving all the glory to God, while still getting agents to believe in our ability and readers to buy our books? (The Young Writer's Workshop is currently doing a course on this topic.)
16. What was your first attempt at writing on your own time (i.e., not for school)? Do you still have that piece?
That should be enough to you busy for the next twelve days. Come back later, when we'll dive into Bird by Bird, the funny and relatable writing book by Anne Lamott.
1. Just because you didn't plant it doesn't make it a weed. One time when my brother and I were pulling weeds out of the gravel planter, we found a dicotyledon plant that must have sprouted only days ago. We didn't know what it was, so we let it grow. Weeks later, a sunflower bloomed in the gravel. I called it the Happy Weed. It grew where nothing else did. That's how ideas are. They might grow out of our harshest, knee-scraping memories. When I wrote about one of the few hopeful memories from the most traumatic time of my life, in a giant run-on sentence that was supposed to be about ramen, one friend said it sounded like a story. The other friend said she would read that story. Beauty sprouts in the ashes.
What's under the surface of your heart? A lot of dirt. All the failures, the times we've missed the mark, the regrets, the worries, the secrets, the quicksand of our minds. But there are seeds in that rich dirt. Someday those seeds will grow into something greater than the earth they came from, rising high above it. The smallest seed becomes the greatest tree. It doesn't start as a tree, though. It starts as a tiny umbrella of green for ants and pill bugs. If no one pulls it up, it will grow into something beautiful.
2. Healing is a creative act. I babysit a three-year-old girl. She had a butterfly-shaped crayon, but in a fit of excitement, she snapped its wing off. Almost immediately, she was sorry, but she couldn't undo the damage. So she placed the larger portion of crayon on the table, and used the broken wing to draw a new wing beside the butterfly's body. "I'm make it beautiful," she said over and over.
Maybe we can't heal the same as we were before. But we can make it beautiful. In our healing, we can do a new thing, become a new Creation.
2. Broken and ugly are not the same. Everyone is broken in a unique way, but that doesn't mean we aren't beautiful or can't create beauty. The wonder of stained glass is in the arrangement of the irregular shards. Where you see jagged edges, God sees a new color of light. Even in your brokenness, God's glory can shine through you that other may see him--and see how beautiful broken people are. You're part of an amazing picture, and don't you forget it.
Don't throw away your trauma and depression as useless or ugly. It was hard, and it might still be hard, but God has a plan in the pain, and someday this brokenness will be beautiful again.
About a month ago I discussed the concept of symbolic dichotomies--pairs of opposing forces that often appear in literature. My specific focus was Order and Chaos, because of the confusion surrounding the nature of that particular dichotomy.
Now let's take a look at a second literary pairing: Justice and Mercy.
Of the five symbolic dichotomies I intend to discuss over the next few months, Justice/Mercy is probably the least-known. Dark/Light, Good/Evil, Order/Chaos, and even Creation/Destruction appear frequently in modern literature. But Justice/Mercy? This pairing is so neglected that many people may not consider the key elements "opposed." However, they are--not in the sense of warfare, such as we see between Good and Evil. Nor in the sense of Order and Chaos, which are elements of nature. Justice and Mercy are elements of mankind.
Justice and Mercy are unique among the dichotomies because they are the only dichotomy that relies on human behavior for its manifestation in the modern world. Yes, ultimately God executes true Justice and offers real Mercy--but until our deaths or the apocalypse, humans have the power (if not the right) to deal out small-scale Justice and Mercy to one another in society. In their simplest iterations, Justice may look like punishment for a crime--a fine, jailtime, or even death--and Mercy often manifests as forgiveness of those who have wronged us (especially when they don't deserve it).
To further explain the Justice/Mercy dichotomy, let's take a look at literature: specifically, a few lines of Percy Shelley's poem "Ode to the West Wind," which you can view here if you like.
First, a little background: Shelley was a later Romantic poet who wrote in a tumultuous time known as the Age of Revolution: The American Revolution had recently succeeded, the French Revolution had turned into a bloody mess, and the English nobility widely feared rebellion at home--which meant some of Shelley's poems, such as "England in 1819," could have been read as seditious. Poems that advocated for revolution or presented it in a positive light were a dangerous venture indeed. That didn't deter the Romantics, however, and this theme of revolution runs through "Ode to the West Wind" as well.
For Shelley, the West Wind (which came out of the west, so technically it was blowing east) represented the change he wanted to see in England--the West Wind came from America, the brand-new land of freedom. Shelley wants this wind to come because he wants revolution, change. A major theme of Romantic poetry is the corruption of the institutions and the need for change, as painful as change could be. (What does this have to do with Justice and Mercy? I'm getting there.)
So Shelley wants change, but death must come before rebirth--the dark winter of revolution before the springtime of improvement. In lines 18 through 28, the poet gives us vivid imagery of a storm swept in by the West Wind:
The imagery of the sky (depicted as a tomb) bursting open may remind the Christian reader of another tomb that burst open a long time ago. Shelley suggests a resurrection (insurrection?) with this description. But in this imaginary scene, the result of the tomb's opening isn't the Mercy and joy associated with Easter, but wrath and destruction. What is the purpose of this resurrection-scene, if not Mercy? A revolution, a righting of institutional wrongs: Justice.
For all the Biblical imagery he used, Shelley was an atheist. It's worth noting the difference Christ (or lack thereof) makes. The awe-full description of "black rain and fire" descending from the heavens reminds us of God's power and wrath in the Old Testament.
Let's do something unpopular and view the Bible as a work of literature for a moment. (Any Christian who has ever written a story or studied literature knows the Bible is not only a guidebook for faith but also a work of literary brilliance.) There is a clear-cut literary dichotomy between the Old and New Testaments in how God is described and what He does.
In the Old Testament, God is the God of Justice, ruthlessly punishing anyone who deserves it--even (especially) His chosen people, Israel. God always keeps His promises, and one of His promises is to hold people accountable for their actions. Bad behavior has consequences, as we've seen from the Garden of Eden onwards--we ate the fruit we were not supposed to, so we must die.
But the God of the New Testament is the God of Mercy. Over and over we see His Mercy. In 1 Corinthians 13, Paul explains the agape* love of Jesus on the Cross:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.
This is a very different picture than the one painted in the Old Testament, and it is the perfect example of the difference between Justice and Mercy. Justice gives people what they deserve, be it reward or punishment. Mercy gives people a love they do not deserve, that they cannot attain for themselves. And why?
Because God decided that the willing death of one innocent man is worth more than the unwilling deaths of billions of imperfect men. God didn't have to, but He wanted to, because He loves us. And we did nothing to earn this. Romans 5:8 sums up the entire Bible in one sentence: "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." In the Old Testament, we were sinners on the road to what we deserved--call it a highway to Hell. But in the New Testament, we were granted amazing Mercy.
And the most heart-breaking part of the story is that we don't accept it. We want Mercy for ourselves but not for each other. Like Shelley, we want revolution--change--Justice for those who have wronged us. We are unwilling to wait for the same God who sacrificed everything for us to mend the world--which he has promised to do. Ultimate Justice is coming, but we forget and treat one another with human pettiness and make a mockery of Justice and Mercy alike. But God always keeps his promises, and He told us not to worry about being treated unjustly during this life--indeed, he repeatedly warned us to expect it, accept it, and trust Him to deal out the final verdict when the time comes.
To summarize: the difference between Justice and Mercy is the difference between Old Testament and New Testament, between the wrathful thunderstorm of revolution and the empty tomb of resurrection. Does this mean Justice is bad? No. Justice is necessary. But only God is Just, so as writers and as Christians we must be careful in how we depict Justice and Mercy in our stories, because there is only one being who rightfully dispenses either side of the dichotomy, and that is God**.
*There are many Greek words for "love." Agape refers to perfect, self-sacrificing love.
**That is not to say we shouldn't punish criminals. God clearly states in his Law that evildoers should be punished. But when we punish someone in a way that isn't in accordance with God's Law (say, overthrowing our own country, which God specifically tells us not to do in Romans 13:14 and Hebrews 13:17), that isn't Justice, that's revenge.