Into the Fire

Passionate thoughts about the world of writing and the Power of God

 

Those of us who are avid readers of Christian Fiction will admit to having experienced that “canned” testimony moment in some of its offerings. Or the tossed in “prayers” at critical crises. Or the “preachy” explanations of Christian-ese activities and dialogue. Or the goodie-two-shoes characters or even worse the holier-than-thou characters.

 

So. Is it the "Christian" in fiction that insults, irritates, or inflames its critics?

 

In one of the all-time best novels I’ve ever read, Lisa Samson writes The Passion of Mary-Margaret as a memoir of an aging Catholic Sister who’s been assigned to leave a record of her life. In that story of course readers would expect to encounter some “religion”, but in this book the miraculous comes so—the common word now is—organically, and so naturally, as to set it apart and make it “true” and real.

 

Going back in time to what is considered classic Christian literature, Frank Peretti dared to put “faces” on and give “personalities” to demons. Addressing spiritual warfare in a “down-to-earth” and completely understandable, fathomable way, This Present Darkness and Piercing the Darkness gave readers seeking an entertaining, exciting, and honest rendition of this neglected facet of Christianity an opportunity for spiritual exploration via story and accomplished setting the stage for future supernatural thrillers which no one took advantage of—or equaled—for years to come. Granted, C. S. Lewis wrote The Screwtape Letters many years before either of Peretti’s novels, but Peretti unleashed the decidedly contemporary and American flavor to the battle for souls conducted outside of our normal vision.

 

The “come to Jesus moment” expression has gained momentum in the media, often being mocked by those who hold disdain for anything they deem “religious” and other times referring to a spiritual wakeup call. In truth these supernatural moments can have amazing and exhilarating appeal if addressed with the substantive drama and humility they warrant. Or they can ignite wrath from those who happen to read a “religious” novel expecting it to be something other than what it is.

 

This inherent challenge remains the big deal for writers who serve the Lord. Addressing faith and the issues it incorporates in all the various forms and genres of fiction, while giving writers unlimited options, can be the critical measure in determining the wow factor of a story. This is certainly where the writer exercises his talent with words. Or not.

 

I confess to using multiple “come to Jesus moments” in my stories acknowledging that none of them are directly responsible for saving souls. That burden is totally a God-thing. He calls. People either answer with a yes or a no. He can certainly use novels as easily as anything else, and I’m sure He has, but to think any novel will be an evangelical tool in any form is a mistake at best, an arrogant assumption at worst.

 

I contend it can be the Christian factor in Christian Fiction that causes dissension and discontent because of how it’s sometimes handled and/or received. However, very few professionals who responded to last week’s Question/Poll gave any indication they assumed that the overall genre should not contain material related to our Christian faith. We are instructed to be in the world, not of the world, so that reasoning allows us to unashamedly explore our faith within stories. How this is done varies from writer to writer, dogma to dogma, and genre to genre. Our primary personal question remains: What does the Lord want me to write and how does he want me to write it?

 

 

Father, direct me in your ways always. Help me to hear your voice more clearly, more completely, and to follow with total devotion. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.   

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5 responses to “Could it be the “Christian” in fiction?”

  1. Brenda Jackson Avatar

    And it’s hard to figure out why it doesn’t work when it doesn’t work. On the one hand, I can recall several books I’ve read where the faith element seems thrown in.
    On the opposite end of the spectrum, I read a book where not only the lead character but her whole family was strong in faith and prayerful and I had absolutely no problems believing it and it did not feel forced.
    Thinking about that story and that family, even though they were more faith driven then is common to my personal experience with families, it worked because faith and characterization were welded together in that book. The writer set it up so I knew what I was getting from the get-go, and she made each character unique, clear and distinct.
    As we’ve discussed here in the past, it feels like a large percentage of books are merely average–which means their characters are merely average and not leap off the page. So it stands to reason the faith element doesn’t leap off the page either.
    I wonder too, if the reason the faith element can sound forced is because the author can’t decide if they want to write for CBA or general market? How many of us truly know their target market? I’d bet not that many.
    I also think showing faith in gender is hard. Since I personally don’t have experience with men of strong faith (I’m talking about men I know very well, not acquaintances or the pastors on TV) to me it is hard to write men and faith in a believable way.
    Last but not least, faith is a lot messier then what I typically read (that’s mostly reflection on me I suppose). I can’t even figure out why I’m left tortured and drained every day by my job with no apparent source of rescue, and that’s not even interesting fodder for a book. But I have to take my experiences and translate them to the pages of fiction–and if my faith isn’t a cakewalk, I’m going to be cynical about characters in books who have cakewalk lives unless they are doggone convincing and sew that into their characters from the inside out.
    Of course we could blow all these theories out of the water with one simple fact–the book I read and think faith is naturally woven in, another could pick up and say “that is so fake!”
    So there we go with subjectivity again. 😎

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  2. Nicole Avatar

    You make many interesting points here, Brenda J., but I’m going to focus on these . . .
    I do think subjectivity is huge in fiction. Always have when you’re dealing with subject/plot and characters. And, yes, even the quality of the writing.
    Gender characterization with faith or without faith can be a problem for either men or women when including characters of the opposite sex. I know well plenty of men in the faith and throughout my earlier life plenty of men who were not in the faith. I love men so I tend to write about them a lot and feature them as protagonists or co-protagonists. But I’ve read problem characterizations of men by women authors in Christian fiction and problem characterizations of women by male authors in both secular/general market and Christian fiction. That’s a good point.
    I wonder sometimes if the faith elements are weak because the author’s faith is such that they can’t translate it well in writing. Or if they want to think by just inserting a few minor episodes of faith, somehow they can snag (and perhaps evangelize) the general market readers.

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  3. Jessica Thomas Avatar

    In my college creative writing courses I was taught that you can’t start with a theme, symbolism or moral objective and write from there. You write the story first and theme and symbolism grow on its own…as you say, organically. That may sound too hippy-ish for some, especially some Christians who may harbor an obvious or hidden distrust of fiction. But, I’ve found it to be true. Story and characterization have to come first.
    Symbolism and theme are woven in later. After you’ve written your first draft, go back and read it objectively, looking for places where theme and symbolism are naturally rearing their heads, then go in and play those things up.
    I have a hunch many Christian writers start with their theme or spiritual objective, then they throw playdough at it and try to secondarily sculpt story and character. I suppose a good writer can pull this off. For someone who isn’t as skilled, the end result is usually bad (sometimes painfully bad) fiction.

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  4. Brenda Anderson Avatar

    To be honest, I have no clue what turns readers against some faith fiction & not others. Leif Enger’s Peace Like a River was highly acclaimed, as was Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead. Why didn’t Samson’s Mary-Margaret achieve the same? In my opinion, Mary-Margaret was a far better book than Peace Like a River (I’ve yet to read Gilead).
    I’m part of a small secular book club. When it’s my turn to choose the novel, I try to choose a CBA book that will appeal to everyone. They all loved Scared by Tom Davis. One reader in the group fell in love with Charles Martin, the others were lukewarm. They all thought Laura Frantz was preachy (which really surprised me.)
    What’s the answer? As I said before, I’m clueless. So, when it comes to writing, I’ll just write what’s on my heart & let God take it from there.

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  5. Nicole Avatar

    I doubt I could ever “go back” or insert “after” writing a first draft anything of consequence. If it’s major like theme or serious symbolism and it doesn’t show up amply in my first draft, it ain’t ever goin’ to get there. But that’s me. Not that I start with those, but certain themes have a recurring part in my stories and get developed simultaneously. But I get your point, Jess, and I understand why the teacher would suggest that as a teaching method.
    I’m with you, Bren. I know I couldn’t do a book club period. You’re one of the few I even discuss novels with except for a few of my friends for whom I’m their library.
    And tomorrow I’ll suggest another possibility, but I’m as clueless as you.

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