God as a Plot Device

You know what’s worse that Christian fiction that crams sermons into most dialogue and concludes with a fake-sounding lesson?

Christian fiction with a few stock spiritual-sounding phrases to make it qualify as Christian.

One of my recent freelance editing jobs was a Christian fiction story written by a non-Christian. Strange, I know. And I’m sure that there are many talented writers who can write convincing point-of-view characters even if they don’t share their convictions. This writer, unfortunately, wasn’t one of them.

The “Christian content” of the story was found in three paragraphs—one at the beginning of the novella where the main character’s mother talks about faith saving her from a life of drinking and drugs, one in a moment of crisis where the character prays to God for help, and one near the end where she talks about how God wants us to love our enemies instead of taking revenge.

I’ll admit, it was almost a relief to not have to deal with the heavy-handed morals at the other end of the Christian writing spectrum (You can usually spot them a mile away). But it was also interesting to see how outsiders think our faith should influence our lives. According to this author, God is a convenient plot device to use when….

• You need a dramatic conversion to tear you out of a self-destructive lifestyle.

• You want a miraculous intervention of some kind.

• You are appealing to basic morality or the Golden Rule.

Why the Communist Versions of Monopoly Failed

You’ve probably heard about how the USSR banned Monopoly during the Cold War. But have you heard about what they did to replace it?

According to a Mental Floss article, “Soviet leaders even tried coming up with their own Marxist-themed spin-off games designed to highlight the virtues of frugality. The title of one such knockoff from Communist-era Hungary loosely translated to ‘Save,’ while another in Russia had a name that roughly meant ‘Manage.’”

What, never heard of these? Why on earth did these communist reboots of Monopoly not immediately take off?

Because they were trying to create culture in a purely reactionary way.

There was a cultural movement out there (capitalism) that was being encouraged by a wildly popular bit of creative property (the game Monopoly). If we’re communists, inherently opposed to capitalism, we’ve got to make our own bit of creative property to combat the one from the other side, because otherwise our people are going to be sneaking around covertly buying up Boardwalk and Park Place into the wee hours of the night. And we can’t have that, now can we?

Don’t even try to say that it’s “just a board game,” and that it doesn’t affect how people think. By entering into a game where you are a greedy landlord trying to get rich at others’ expense, you are accepting that philosophy, even if it’s in a small way. We create culture, and then it creates us.

The problem is, if the culture we create is weak and poorly designed—the Hungarian game “Save” sounds pretty compelling, doesn’t it?—people will reject it, no matter how careful we’ve been to infuse it with the right values.

Okay, let’s stop pretending we’re communist board game developers for a minute. (What? You were never pretending? Oh, come on, where’s your imagination?)

Instead, let’s talk about Christian fiction. Or Christian music. Or Christian art in general—or any area where “Christian” is used as an adjective. And let’s ask the question: are we simply reacting to the culture around us?

The Challenge of Ethos

Of the three points of Aristotle's triangle of rhetoric, I tend to be an ethos-heavy writer. That doesn’t mean that I don’t make logical sense or never appeal to emotion, just that my subject matter and “punchlines” (the sentences in a blog post, essay, or story that I spend extra time crafting and drive a point home) are often character/ethics centered.

When I learned about Aristotle’s triangle of rhetoric in high school, my teacher had us write a personal essay that emphasized one of the three points. He ended with a brief warning: “Most students stay away from ethos. That one’s really hard to do gracefully.”

You are seventeen-year-old Amy. What do you do?

Yep. Take that as a challenge and focus on ethos. I had no idea how to do that, really, but I thought I'd give it a try. My essay was about how I thought the select choir group at our school was made up of arrogant divas…until I became a part of it and experienced what it was like to be treated like an arrogant diva.

When my teacher graded it, this is what he said at the end. “At first, I was skeptical and felt like you were being a bit judgmental…and then you turned it around on yourself. And suddenly, everything worked.”

I had unknowingly stumbled onto one of the keys to using ethos gracefully: be a relatable character.

"Please Preach at Me," Said No Reader Ever

Ever read one of those stories that tries to cram in a bunch of SAT words into a novel? (They exist. Check out a few riveting plots here.)

I’ve never read one, but I’ve heard that they are replete with a plethora of haranguing by the author in an attempt to repudiate the claim that they are lackluster and bombast the student with knowledge.

Did that sentence sound a little strange to you? That’s because I deliberately structured it to fit six of the top 100 SAT words into it instead of just trying to communicate my point in the best way possible. Which is not a good way to do things.

How to Get Published, Part Three: The Book Contract

You know when someone asks you a question, and the only answer you can think of is, “It’s a long story….”? Well, this is one of those long stories. When people ask me how I got a book contract, I’m never sure if they really want to sit down and hear everything. So I’ll say it here instead, where hopefully only people who are interested have to suffer through it.

Things don’t always (or, actually, often) work this way. My story is not typical. Then again, if there’s anything I’ve learned over the past few years, it’s that no one’s story is typical. But you can still learn from other people’s experiences, even if your own experiences won’t look the same.

Around Thanksgiving during my senior year of high school, my twin sister Erika, a future elementary education major, was reading a lot of kids’ fantasy series. She didn’t like a lot of them because they were predictable and used random bursts of magic to solve whatever problem happened to come up. “You got poisoned by a snakebite? Don’t worry, we happen to have a venom-reducing emerald on hand.” (No, that really happened. Honest.)

So she did the only reasonable thing to do when your sister is a writer. She said, “Hey, Amy, I know what I want for my birthday. A book.”

And I said, “Well, it’s six months early, but okay. What book?”

“I don’t know. You haven’t written it yet.”

Silence. “Um…what do you mean by that?”

Sabbath Reflections: God Is Not Mr. Potato Head

Have you seen the new Mr. Potato Heads? I’m telling you, these things have accessories like you wouldn’t believe. Kids whose parents buy the whole plastic wardrobe can mix-and-match and create whatever type of potato they want. They can change its gender, emotions, occupation, and fashion sense just by choosing which implements they want to include and which ones they don’t.

A lot of Christians try to do this with God.

We tend to make God what we want Him to be. If we are all about mercy, then God is loving, sometimes to the exclusion of His justice. Slap on the blue hat with little daisies. If we don’t want people to get away with nonsense, God is just and all-powerful. Break out the angry eyes.

If God is a manageable plastic spud with interchangeable parts, then we can worship Someone we’re comfortable with. In a way, we are putting ourselves in control. Even worse, we are diluting the awesome, mind-blowing transcendence of God – the quality that allows Him to say, “My thoughts are not your thoughts, and my ways are higher than your ways.”

We’re not worshipping an idol, not exactly…but we are making God in our own image.

Writing and Building Snowmen

I used to have a really funny intro for this post.

Yep. It was all about how my ulterior motive for writing this was that I wanted it to snow. I also explained the magical charm needed to bend weather to your whims around Christmastime.

But then yesterday it snowed. So there went my intro. On the positive side, the snow put me in the mood for the actual topic of this post: how writing fiction is exactly like building a snowman.

Okay, maybe not exactly. But there are similarities. If you’re skeptical about associating snowman building and good writing, I have three words for you: Calvin and Hobbes.

Sabbath Reflections: Is This a Christian Book or Not?

If you’re anything like me, when you pick up a novel at a yard sale where books aren’t separated by genre, the first question on your mind is, “I wonder if this is a Christian book or not?”

Well, wonder no more. Since it’s obvious that spirituality can be rated by entirely subjective and arbitrary characteristics, score a book of your choice here:

Author Photo/Bio:

• The author lives in a small town in the Midwest. +5
• The author lives in San Francisco. -3

            The author lives on a vineyard outside of San Francisco for most of the year, and in Las Vegas for the summer. -10

• Photo shows the author wearing a cross necklace/earring/T-shirt. +8
• He has Jesus-like facial hair.  +5
• She has a haircut like your pastor’s wife. +5

            (If the picture shows a female with facial hair or a male with a pastor’s wife haircut, give it a -50. And write a letter of concern to the author.)

Sabbath Reflections: Not Your Granny's Flannelgraph

I come up with a lot of get-rich-quick schemes, and, for some reason, many of them are faith-based. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen the ridiculous merchandise in the gift section of Christian bookstores. (Look, it’s a 100-piece nativity set made out of real olive branch wood from the Holy Land! And it has a scratch-and-sniff that smells like frankincense!)

But, seriously, this one is going to work. Feel free to contact me about investing in stock any time. I’ve noticed a real gap in the market, and I know just how to fill it.

You see, there are a lot of books and movies that are “based on true events.” I figure, since most kids are bored with the same old Bible stories, I could fictionalize them to add a little punch.

Sabbath Reflections: Why Did Jesus Tell Stories?

Writers love the fact that Jesus’ public ministry didn’t consist of a lecture tour or sermon series: Jesus told stories, also known as parables.

I’ve heard many people say that the reason Jesus told parables was that he liked to illustrate deep theological truths by using stories that everyone could relate to and understand.

That’s a nice thought. Problem is, it’s not actually biblical.

When the disciples asked Jesus why he told parables, this is what he said, “To you it has been given to know the secrets of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it has not been given…. This is why I speak to them in parables, because seeing they do not see, and hearing they do not hear, nor do they understand.” (Matt. 13:11,13)

That’s right. Jesus told parables to confuse people.