Into the Fire

This is my ongoing struggle. Oh sure, people seem to think non-fiction books can be important, vital, and necessary because they sometimes offer incredible insight or reasonable solutions or valuable accounts of a worthwhile person who has gone on before us. But fiction? Not so much in the overall evaluations of contributions to life’s circumstances. And of course I disagree in spades.

But that’s where the struggle resumes. Because it isn’t really about the value of stories depicting real life and real problems that’s inarguable, it’s the other “stuff” that goes with those novels. The sell-your-soul-for-sales marketing, the push-push-push of posting every favorable comment about every book, the self-promotion to the enth degree, all of it . . . you know how much I can’t jive with it. At all.

You see here’s how I see it: soldiers fight for our freedom and protection. Some of them die doing that. This morning at Walmart I thanked an Army soldier in his cammies for his service, and I nearly burst out crying. Tears fill my eyes right now. He gave me a big grateful smile and thanked me for my appreciation. Now he’s important.

Families succumb to divorce and the domino effects crush both sides; the devastation to children, the ugliness of exposing mistakes, secrets, infidelity, and rancor spews like fiery lava making a mockery of sacred vows. The damage is inestimable for years to follow, and the tears and tears continue indefinitely. Now this is terrible—watching love stomped on and ground into unrecognizable pieces of debris.

Illnesses of all kinds bushwhack healthy people, bad things still happen to “good” people, death snatches lives everyday. People of faith bow to temptation and ruin themselves in the process. The refusal to forgive drives revenge and spurs rejection of all things holy to dark places of the soul. Every . . . day . . . these things pock the earth to remind us of the curse of sin.

Perhaps that’s why it’s hard for me to place too much importance on campaigning for a novel. This is the perspective with which I struggle. Yes, I think novels are valuable, important, useful, and can be created and used for noble purposes—especially the ones written for and in obedience to the Lord. Anything done to honor Jesus maintains true value.

Yesterday I reviewed June Bug by Chris Fabry. Valuable novel for so many reasons. You might remember my review of Lisa Samson’s The Passion of Mary-Margaret. Also an important story for multiple reasons. Demon . . . a memoir by Tosca Lee: such insight, a must read. Then I interject The Famous One which I wrote, and as important as it was for me to write, as involved as I became in the telling of this story, the fact that it eventually presents the gospel is really where it holds value. But it isn’t for everyone to read.

Perspective is what makes writing—by anybody, really—so small.

The thing that makes it big is that a novel can reveal the souls of people within characters and take them on journeys to freedom, to revelation, to truth if done well. That is not so small.

Father, you’re the only One who can make writing valuable. Please order and bless mine to make it pleasing to you. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.