Into the Fire

. . . with some things in the writing world and multitudinous things in the “real” world.

So let’s stick to the writing world since the disagreements I have with it I can actually do something about. Well, I mean for me. For anyone else: not so much.

Okay, we all know I’m a proponent of breaking the rigid “rules of writing”. However, let’s not ignore or forget this important point since I’ve made it every time I’ve referred to myself or anyone else as a rule-breaker. First you must know the rules of writing. You must be savvy as to when and why you’re choosing to break them in your writing. Again, I’ve explained the reason for this. If you don’t know them, you don’t have a clue you’re breaking them. If you don’t know when you’re breaking them, your writing will stand out in its clumsiness and a certain ignorance will surface in your prose. If you don’t know enough about grammar to use it effectively, your writing is going to read like a kindergartner’s term paper.

Having said all that repetitive hoopla, here’s what I disagree with today. Over and over I’ve heard and read writers say the following: “Novels are not sermons, they’re stories. I like sermons but not in novels.” Writers I like very much have said this. I disagree with their premise. Invariably included somewhere with this comment is a token mention of the parables of Jesus—how He used story to illustrate important truths in an identifiable way to the people of that day. What they fail to include is that within that “story” is most certainly a sermon. Not the typical traditional 3 to 5 point homily but a message and a principle within the story. Sounds like a sermon to me.

How can a writer construct words without a message? Our lives illustrate a sermon, portray a message. What are we saying to our coworkers, our classmates, our families? What we believe is written in our actions, spoken in our words, committed to the pages of our novels in contrasting illustrations of lives. Sure it might be symbolic renditions of truth and lies, but it still gives a reader a picture of who we are, how we think, what we value. Are we sardonic and cynical? Are we sweetness and hilarity? Are we dark and onerous but offering hope? Are we funny or sarcastic? We tell stories, but within the framework of those stories lies what we need to relate. Otherwise, why write? And if we need to relate it, by its very nature we think it must have some benefit to someone. Why? Because it says something! And that “something” reveals a message, aka a sermon.

Tied to this is the frequently heard and written, “Don’t preach to me! Preachy novels . . . you-fill-in-the-blank.” If you, as a writer, take the time to arrange the words which compose an entire novel, what exactly are you trying to say? Call it theme, call it purpose, call it intent, call it folly, call it fun, call it an exercise if you want, but the point is you are telling the reader something. We all assume that when someone remarks about how they detest “preachy” novels that the author has included some dos and don’ts to admonish the reader in no uncertain terms. Somehow the writer has offended the reader by switching from using story to illustrate the desired points to suddenly getting behind the pulpit of the pen, creating an inorganic turn off for the reader. This is just bad storytelling.

But don’t kid yourself into thinking that you aren’t preaching a sermon when you create a novel. Something you believe in will unfold through those pages, something you hate or something you stand tall for will reveal a message, and I think it’s much better to do this with intent than to have it assumed. Whatever “it” is, develop it from the lives of the characters, the locations of the story, the vivid scenes, the meaningful dialogue, the colors and fabrics of people, places, and things. Like I said, it isn’t a homily and it’s not the traditional way to “preach”, but it most certainly says something about the writer, and whichever genre you write in, if you’re writing a novel, you have something to say. Or else why write?

Father, let my motives be pure, my desire to please you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.