Non-Fiction Readers Less Empathetic than Fiction Readers

Recently, at the Speculative Faith blog, I posted an article on how fiction affects the brain in the same way real-life experiences do. While non-fiction can transmit information, fiction transmits experiences that give context and concreteness to that information. The very reason so much non-fiction relies heavily on short story snippets to illustrate their points.

But those short story snippets are no replacement for total immersion into a story. At best they can illustrate the point being made, but the reader is not often lost in a story by which they experience the truth. This is where novels shine and non-fiction is severely limited.

This fact is highlighted by an article from NBC News by Meghan Holohan, titled, "Getting lost in a novel means you're more empathetic." She makes the following observation based on scientific studies:

People who lost themselves in the fiction showed more empathy than people who did not become as involved in fiction or read nonfiction.

“[W]hen we get lost in a book, we are in another world, in which we can freely experience the character’s feelings and thoughts as if they were our own, through which we ‘learn’ how other people think and feel about problems in life. This again can be transferred to real life, so by reading a book and getting involved in the story, we are able to sympathize with other people,” Bal says.

Chalk up another point to the benefits of reading fiction. Not only do those who eschew fiction in preference of non-fiction lose out on experiencing reality from different perspectives, a broader cultural exposure, and increased brain functioning, but also lose out on the opportunity to break out of our ego-centric focus. Fiction gives us the opportunity, as my mom always used to say, to "walk a mile in their moccasins." Or as St. Paul would say, "Treat each other as more important than yourself."

Do you think those who are more empathetic lose themselves in fiction, or does losing oneself in fiction makes one more empathetic, or both?

Devil's Hit List Excerpt Frank Creed

I'm kicking off the Splashdown Books Blog Tour for October's new release, Devil's Hit List: Book Three of THE UNDERGROUND by Frank Creed. Book one is Flashpoint, published in October 2009, and book two is War of Attrition published in October 2010. After two years, readers get to hop on board for another exciting ride through the cyber-punk world of Frank Creed. Here is the blurb:

The One State has contracted the Ash Corporation to produce virtual-e, a brainwave technology chip so highly addictive that it's eventually fatal.

The chip is used in the hottest new entertainment product that will hook any who experience it.

Calamity Kid and his crew fight the production of virtual-e and get backing from the Body of Christ to run an operation to keep the chip from being marketed in North America.

But how far can the underground heroes get when the global government and a megacorporation work together?

Today, we have an excerpt from the new novel to wet your appetite. Enjoy.

The train grunted and chugged out of our way. We strolled the pedestrian walkway across the tracks, a crude asphalt footpath, and then the sidewalk toward Main Street. Specialty shops lined the street and we took our time scanning their windows, giving other walkers a good head start. By the time we’d made it to a pottery shop, the block was empty of travellers.

“By the way,” said e-girl, “Serene got the Body Surfers’ cell back up and running. I finally have some hack support.”

“That’s good.” We passed a fabric store and a small antique seller. I thought I heard something.

“You know, Lethe likes you.”

“Uh-huh. I like her too.”

“Hello? I know! You told me the first time you saw her!”

Hurried footsteps sounded behind us and I ignored my sister. “Not right now, okay?”

“What ever.”

Two sets fell, paced to catch up with us by the next corner. I looked to e-girl. She still gazed in the store windows with no idea at all about our tail.

My electro-magnetic sense displayed something like an old photo-negative, and I did a slow blink to check my mind’s eye. With dark jackets and lip piercings they matched the loitering guys I’d recorded at the station—the image was not clear enough to tell if they were the same guys.

If these jokers were who I suspected, it would be better to lose them while there were still only two. Near the first block’s end, the Spirit spoke to me in the Word. Then Joshua and all Israel with him turned around and attacked Debir.

I turned around. “Wait here,” I told my sister, and walked back at them. They were now only five meters away so I closed quickly with big strides.

One was nearly as short as I. His big friend stood a bit over two meters. They stopped and muttered to each other, unsure of what to do. They stepped under the awning of a confectioner, and tried to hang out by its front door.

I stopped alongside them.

Draw. Both pistols obeyed my thought. They left their bicep holsters and sprang down coat sleeves to my ready hands. I snugged one under the ear of the short ganger, pointed the other at the tall one, and namedropped, keeping my voice low, to assure their compliance. “Tailing the Calamity Kid is not a prime career move. Tell me why I should not shoot you.”

The tall one hesitated before speaking. “’Cause then you won’t have security at your meet with Toad.”

I growled and pushed the short ganger into the tall one. Backing toward e-girl I said, “Thanks for your concern, but we’re safer without you drawing attention to us. Stay here or I will shoot you. And tranq rounds leave a mean headache.”

With another thought I holstered my pistols, holding my arms out so they could watch them disappear. Snagging e-girl’s arm, I led her across the street.

She kept sneaking peeks at me from her eyes’ corners.

Frank Creed's Links:

Homepage: http://frankcreed.com/
Blog: http://blog.frankcreed.com/
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/frankcreed
Twitter: https://twitter.com/frankcreed
Devil's Hit List Amazon link (print): http://www.amazon.com/Devils-Hit-List-Frank-Creed/dp/1927154316
Devil's Hit List Amazon link (kindle): http://tinyurl.com/92j7amx
Join the Lost Genre Guild: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/lost_genre_guild/
My publisher has other great Christian spec-fic: http://www.splashdownbooks.com/

Blog Tour Links:

R. L. Copple	http://blog.rlcopple.com
Ryan Grabow	http://www.egrabow.com/rm.php?e=Prime
Grace Bridges	http://grace.splashdownbooks.com
Caprice Hokstad	http://caprice.splashdownbooks.com/
Diane M. Graham	http://dianemgraham.com/blog/
Travis Perry	http://travissbigidea.blogspot.com/
Jennifer Rodgers	http://jfrogers.blogspot.com/
Greg Mitchell	http://www.thecomingevil.blogspot.com/
Paul Baines	http://www.pabaines.com
Keven Newsome	http://www.kevennewsome.com
Kat Heckenbach	http://www.katheckenbach.com/
Timothy Hicks	http://fantasythyme.blogspot.com/
Robynn Tolbert	http://ranunculusturtle.blogspot.com/
Fred Warren	http://frederation.wordpress.com/

Morality vs. Christianity

Yesterday, I ran across two news articles, from Christian sources, which seemed to be pitting art that seems to decry the subtle "morality" approach in order to appeal to a broader audience, at the expense of presenting the Gospel in one form or fashion. It was blatantly portrayed that way from one of the founders of the Veggie Tales, Phil Vischer:

I looked back at the previous 10 years and realized I had spent 10 years trying to convince kids to behave Christianly without actually teaching them Christianity.

Veggie Tales: Morality, not Christianity

Granted, teaching morals isn't the same thing as Christianity. You can believe and teach morals without being Christian about it. But I would propose that Veggie Tales did do so with a Christian background. Now, if the founder was saying that he personally had approached it purely from a moralistic standpoint, and that's what he thought Christianity was when they were doing them, certainly he was wrong for doing so. Christianity is much more than a set of morals to follow. But the article seems to then imply that what they were teaching wasn't Christianity because they didn't have much in the way of Gospel presentations in it. So the claim is the kids weren't taught the Gospel through them, just morality. Which may be true, but does that make it not Christian? More on that in a moment.

And then later I ran across a much more balanced article in dealing with the movie, October Baby.  The reviewer, obviously a Christian, praises the movie on several fronts, but laments that the Gospel wasn't presented any stronger.

Christian films too often seem to find themselves in a place of limbo, somewhere between moralism and preachiness, between downplaying or assuming the gospel by saying too little and appearing preachy by emphasizing or over-emphasizing the gospel. If a film only vaguely references faith—a Scripture passage here, the obligatory church scene there—we will complain that it says too little. If a film explicitly references the gospel—the whole gospel—we will say that it is too preachy.

You probably won’t be surprised to hear that while October Baby shares a good and powerful message, it comes perilously close to moralism by only vaguely referencing the gospel.

October Baby and the Challenge of Christian Film

Once again, a good example of quality Christian art, and while the author of the article acknowledges the difficulties in hitting it just right, feels this movie needed more of an overt Gospel message to it and that it came "perilously close to moralism." But that misses the whole point. This film, a decidedly pro-life message, has the chance to reach across faith lines and address that issue with people of other faiths in ways that will touch their heart. To have any kind of overt attempt to preach the Gospel, no matter how low keyed it may have been played, would have gone counter to that primary goal. And yet religious folk, in the Evangelical community especially, just can't get past Christian art that doesn't always have the goal of presenting the Gospel, even when it is obvious that's not its main goal and mission.

Here's the deal. In a carpenter's toolbox, there are all sorts of tools. Depending on what you are building and the specific piece you are working on, different tools will be called for at different times. One set of tools to lay the foundation. Another to cut and put up the frame, another to roof it, another to drywall it. And so on. There is not one tool that does everything. If you back a cement truck up to a frame and start pouring, you'll be tearing it down and starting over. Likewise, the best way to catch fish isn't a hammer, but a hook and bait. No work of art can do all things needed. All works of art shouldn't have the same goal, to preach the Gospel.

Veggie Tales was good at what it did: teaching kids about Christian morality. It wasn't designed or focused on teaching the Gospel. Could it have been? Sure. But my guess is it would have appealed to a lot fewer kids and adults, not been as popular, and not had the impact it did have on children growing up hearing their favorite Bible stories told in an engaging manner. How is that not Christian? Any parent who held that up to their kids, saying, "This is what being a Christian is all about," is the one to blame. They are responsible for making sure their kids learn the full Gospel, and how the morality fits into it. Not Bob the Tomato. Veggie Tales was designed to fill a specific need, not say this is the totality of Christianity.

In the same way, October Baby was trying to communicate a message in a non-preachy way about abortion. It may very well reach some non-religious people with its message because the Christianity in it isn't "in your face." For the goal it had, attempting to slide in the goal of communicating the Gospel to non-Christians would have done more harm than good to the main goal.

While I certainly agree that there needs to be Christian art that can skillfully and clearly express the Gospel message through film, books, and art, that should not be the only goal. And even in casting the nets out for the Gospel, you approach it as St. Paul did in Athens. Sometimes you first get the interest, get people to thinking, adjust perspectives, so that when they do come across the Gospel, they are open to it instead of automatically rejecting it. Sometimes you have to do more than cast seed. You have to plow. And that means not being overt about it right at first. And it should be an accepted and important goal that some art is designed to be subtle and open ended, to get people to start seeing things in a new light. And let God worry about getting the Gospel to them.

But I think this attitude that it must always contain the Gospel message in a fairly overt form is what will keep Evangelicalism from really using the arts to get their worldview and message across to more than a limited number, because it is a one-size-fits-all approach not only to the Christian life, but to evangelism and art itself.

Even Jesus didn't use a one-size-fits-all approach in spreading a message that often people would walk away thinking either, "I have no idea what this man is trying to say with his pretty stories," or "Wow, He's a great moral teacher!" He was willing to be misunderstood, to not speak plainly, to let people get the wrong idea about what he was saying, to not overtly state what He was saying, because He knew that those who had ears to hear, would hear and respond. Why would we not have the same approach to our art in spreading the message of Christ? And why are segments of Christianity so ready to call Jesus' method non-Christian?

What lines would you draw in the sand on what Christian art must contain to be Christian?

October Baby and the Challenge of Christian Film

October Baby and the Challenge of Christian Film

Reality's Fire Cover and Blurb

My new book being published by Splashdown Books is due to hit the shelves in June, just days away. But we have a preview of what is to come!

First, we have the new cover for the final book in The Reality Chronicles, Reality's Fire. Cool, eh? Credit goes to Grace Bridges for the great cover.

And of course we have a blurb to introduce it:

The Day shall declare the reality revealed by fire...

Destinies are forged in the dark night of the soul. Kaylee and Nathan pursue a zombified Crystal to ensure her safety. A vision of death propels their mother, Gabrielle, to chase them in order to prevent its fulfillment. Her wizard friend, Josh, accompanies her to keep his promise to protect her. A mysterious religious leader wants to seduce Kaylee to violate her morals. And a demonic being seeks to bury the reality of the ring through temptation and deceit. Through their twisting journeys, each encounters their destiny. Including the ring.

...Reality's Fire is revealed, and no soul can hide from its judgment.

And that's not all! No, today, for free, you can get a preview sample of the book! Click here to check out the opening scenes.

So, save your money. It will be available soon! Watch here for more info as it becomes available.

And I also want to take this opportunity to thank publicly those who have had a hand in helping shape and bring this book to its final form. First, the critiquers on the old Notebored.com forum. You know who you are, more than I do. My primary critique partner who invested a lot in the initial edits from rough draft, Selena. And a special thanks to Grace Bridges and any at Splashdown Books who had a hand in editing, offering suggestions, or otherwise on the cover, blurbs, and story. You've all put in a lot of work that I pray you'll feel the investment was worth it, not just monetarily-wise, but in touching people's lives as well. This book would not be what it is without all these people's input and support. And of course, I thank my family, my wife and God for their support. I pray He will use it to accomplish His will, whatever that might be for each person who reads it.

This is a bit of a milestone for me, since this will constitute my first, full-fledged, completed series. But have no fear. This is not the end for the Reality World either. Another series has been spun from it, and will be on its way in the future. We're not done yet.

Perfection and the Church

Recently, it seems I've heard a good bit about Christian fiction and how so much of it paints a "Beaver Cleaver" perfect picture of Christians. The CBA publishers and readers have been especially labeled with this accusation, of not portraying "real" people. Though that has and is changing to a large degree, there is no doubt that especially in Christian romance's history, such portrayals have been the rule more than the exception.

And this is not to suggest that we shouldn't show people who are doing the right thing as well. Indeed, there are such people in the world and the only reason some people consider them unrealistic is because they hang out with the wrong crowd and so have never met them. Or they tend to project their own sins upon everyone else in hopes of not feeling so bad about themselves.

But the truth is, no one is perfect, save one. And none of us are Him. And even those that are portrayed as doing the right thing will have their faults and failings, whether we show them or not. Because we live in a fallen world, even the most spiritual among us will fall at points, be hypocritical at points, and flat out sin, and be in need of God's grace and forgiveness. It is why Jesus told Peter when Peter didn't want Him to wash his feet, that if He didn't wash Peter's feet, Peter would have no part with Him. Feet get dirty even among the cleanest of us.

But I would suggest that these perfect Christians that are so often portrayed in Christian literature in times past, are a symptom of our current Christian culture that is fueling a movement more and more away from the Christian ideal that started with Jesus' disciples. If you go back into early Christian literature, one of the most important aspects of the Church was to preserve its unity, to preserve the union of the Body of Christ in all ways, including physically meeting together as one church. But in the last few hundred years, it has instead become more and more splintered until now there are so many groups labeled as Christian who don't associate with each other that it has grown into the thousands.

And while this movement started some time ago, it is now gaining steam as Mike Duran talks about in his blog post, Is the Church Really to Blame for the “Nones”? That was actually the first time I'd heard of the term, but it describes all those who under religious affiliation select "None of the above." They believe in God, but for whatever reason have given up on any kind of organized religion in favor of a denomination of one.

I was wondering why this might be the case. After all, we are commanded not to forsake the gathering of ourselves together. Why has the move to go back to the early church's paradigms fractured Christianity instead of uniting it? If Jesus prayed that we all be one as He and the Father were one, and I would find it hard to think of the two existing in separate churches, was His prayer a pipe dream or a reality to attain?

We could talk about secularism here as a reason. And there would be some reality to that charge. We all grow up with a secular philosophy, a secular view of how the world works, even many Christians see it that way. So it is no wonder that we tend to think everyone just getting along, being relativistic in their beliefs and such is what is really important. What I think is what is important, not what some theologian said hundreds of years ago. Because I'm more modern and have a better understanding of things. Which may be true in a scientific sense, but maybe not so true in a revelational sense. The closer one is in time to the revelation, the more you understand its cultural and worldview underpinnings, meanings that to them were obvious, but to us are a mystery because we are so far removed from that language and culture and its idioms. We tend to overlay our own cultural assumptions on it and come up with different interpretations of the revelations, which is a large part of why as time moved on from the revelation, that interpretations have tended to fracture when not checked by the whole.

But really I think this goes back to two things. One is pride that refuses to submit to authority, to acknowledge that if my interpretation disagrees with the bulk of understanding throughout Church history, guess who is likely to be wrong? Humility, so praised in the Scriptures, comes about through obedience and submission. Both things we see as slavery, being taken advantage of, of trampling upon my rights. And the last thing we want to do is to submit to a church authority that could be just as sinful as we are. So pride tells the individual that they have it right, and everyone else has it wrong, or is okay for them, but not for me. And we like to believe, have often put on the front at church that we are perfect in our Christian walk. And we only want to associate with Christians we see as perfect. And when someone says something we disagree with, who isn't living as they should by our definition, we shun them.

I actually have a couple of scenes in my next book that plays upon that reality, in a town called "Paradise" where everyone believes they are perfect and kills anyone who they don't perceive is. It is contrasted with the real Paradise. It will come out this summer, in the final book of The Reality Chronicles, Reality's Glory.

But this ideal we have set up in our Christian literature of the perfect Christian not only reflects the above pride we have, but sets us up for what we are experiencing. We should, like Christ, expect to find sinners and adulterers and hypocrites in any group of people. Jesus' answer to the hypocrisy of the Pharisees wasn't to dump Judaism. He claimed to fulfill the Old Testament "official" religion, not get rid of it. He obeyed the rituals, said to obey the Pharisees, just don't do what they do, only what they say. All the while He was bringing religion back to its roots and where God had intended for it to go, it was the religious leaders who left Jesus because they didn't recognize him as the Son of God. The few that did, like Nicodemus, followed Christ.

But He never said, "My Father had a good idea with all these ritual things and the temple. But it just didn't turn out like we thought it would. So let's ditch that and start over." Yet, nearly every "reformation" of religion has sought to reform by leaving rather than working within to unite. Because when they didn't agree with our interpretation, which they knew had to be right, they ditched their authorities and started their own group. And that has continued until finally, disillusioned at finding a group that believes exactly as I do, they go it alone, refusing to associate, like Jesus did with sinners, with those hypocrites.

But here's the reality. No one person will have the whole truth. That is a given in relativistic thinking. Because my truth is not your truth, so they say, not believing in any absolute truths, even if they believe in a God, often of their own making. But no matter who you are, how much you have studied, what degrees you have behind your name, no one but Jesus Christ would ever have it all right. I'm sure I hold beliefs and underlying views that are wrong. I'm sure there are actions I've committed which go against my beliefs and morals. Why? Because I'm finite, human, and unlike God, I'm not infallible. All of us are hypocrites because none of us have followed perfectly our own moral code and beliefs.

And because of that reality, no one in any church group will be either. And that is why Jesus said He was called to the sick, not the healthy. If you think you have it all together, are correct in all you believe, and that everyone else is in error, Jesus did not come for you. You're on your own. No, God's prescription for those who are called by His name are that they are humbled before God and man, seek His face, and admit they are sinners. Even, as St. Paul said, the chief of sinners. Then will He hear you, forgiven you, heal you, and call you one of His.

Now, what's more important? To feed your pride and think you have it all nailed down so well that you can ditch all the other Christians in the world and not associate with them or submit to anyone? Or to be called by God as one of His chosen people? Are we willing to accept the position of door keeper for the joy of being in God's house over the exalted position of our own making? Are we ready to admit that we too are sick and need Christ as much as that hypocrite over there? And if so, are we called to minister to them, or not associate with them? Read the Scriptures, see what Jesus did, and if you have an open mind, the answer will be obvious.

When we give up on us being right all the time, and accept that the Church, the Body of Christ, is full of flawed sinners and morally corrupted people who desperately need Christ, the very people He commanded to go into the highways and byways to find, but that our salvation is inherent in submitting to it, then we can start to get back to the early Church's reality and life as a body of Christ living on this Earth. The perfection our literature tends to idolize should not become the measure of our own Christianity, or we will have none of the above, including Christ.

What Does Your Story Say?

One of the big discussions in Christian writing circles revolves around the topic of what Christian fiction should do. I've discussed that here a time or two. Recently on Mike Duran's blog, deCOMPOSE, he brings this up again by asking, "Why Christian Fiction Should NOT Provide Answers." Check it out when you're done here. Some interesting discussions ensued.

But the post caused me to think as people chimed in with their various points of view. So I thought it a good idea to dive in a little further and discuss in what ways a message drives fiction.

First, understand the purpose of the type of writing, and work within that. A romance story has a particular purpose, as does a science fiction story, as does a sermon. A sermon's purpose is to get a distinct message across in a manner that impacts the listener with "truth." A non-fiction book's purpose is to convey information that is perspective enlightening and beneficial for the reader to get, hopefully in an engaging manner, that will better their lives. Both of these types of writing make judicious use of illustrations, often in story format, that highlight and serve the truth and/or information being conveyed. When a reader picks up a book of sermons or a non-fiction book, it is generally because they believe the information presented there will help them. They read the book for the message, and expect the author of the book to speak directly to them.

In general, fiction's primary aim is to entertain. When your general fiction reader wants a novel, they are little concerned with whether it has a specific message. What they want is a great story that they can get lost in and will be satisfying to them as a reader. Note, this does not mean every fiction reader feels that way. There are those who feel entertainment is a waste of time, so if they don't feel they are getting a message out of their fiction, they will feel they've wasted time. It is one of the reasons that non-fiction sells so much better than fiction. The fiction reader that likes fiction with an overt message generally view entertainment as a secondary function of any book. In other words, they read fiction like they would non-fiction.

But that group is a small subset of the fiction readers. Most fiction readers, if they feel the author is pushing a "message" or to put it in more negative terms, "an agenda," will put the book down and walk away. Why? Because if they had wanted that, they would have bought a non-fiction book. And yet, does this mean fiction shouldn't have a message? Not if you listen to many writing books. And when it comes to Christian fiction, most will tend to have a message of some kind. So what makes the difference between an engaging story that delivers a theme and message that resonates with the reader as opposed to the reader feeling the message is an agenda hitting them over the head?

In fiction, the term most often used as to what the author is trying to create is the "suspension of disbelief." That is, we want the reader to become absorbed into the story, to get lost in the characters, to "live" in the world the author has created. But when the reader runs into something that doesn't make sense or pulls them back to the reality, they are reading a story and not living it. The effect breaks the suspension of disbelief in the same way it would if in a movie you saw a camera boom momentarily dip into the top of the screen. It reminds you that you are watching actors on a set, and it breaks you out of the story.

One of the ways an author can do this is when their message turns into an agenda. That is, instead of the message serving the primary purpose of entertaining the reader, it becomes a non-fiction book by the story becoming a giant illustration for the message. Like non-fiction, the reader feels the author is speaking directly to them, rather than the characters. When the message breaks into the story in an artificial, shoehorned feeling, breaking character motivations or circumstances or reality way, then it destroys the suspension of disbelief for the readers, and they are no longer in the story. At the point that happens, the message becomes an agenda.

When does that happen? Two ways. The least used anymore but most famous is the author interruption that used to be so common in stories, especially morality stories. So after telling the story, the narrator would say, "And so, the moral of this story is..." and then proceed to spell out what the reader should have come to believe or see from the story. The other way is doing the same thing, but through either the character (instead of a narrator) or through an obvious circumstance, like the "bad" guy getting his due.

For an example, allow me to use an old flash fiction I did a long time ago (currently in my Ethereal Worlds anthology). In the story, I had the main character come to the realization that what they were doing was killing the "unborn" children of an alien race, after a few scenes of attempting to defeat these aliens from taking what they had. In the future world I had created, abortion had long since been abandoned and was looked up by them as we currently look at slavery now. So I felt it natural at that point for the protagonist to realize he was doing something that went against his morals, and gave him motivation to stop fighting them and let them take back their children.

Well, I sent that into one magazine, and the basic message that came back was that they felt I had hit them over the head with a big anti-abortion message, and that the whole story was written to come to that point. Actually, it hadn't. I didn't know where the story was going to end when I started it, and when I got to that spot, that seemed his natural conclusion and thought. But what they were telling me is that it felt like I had intruded into the story and used the story not to entertain people, but to attempt to convince people that abortion was wrong. I was in effect, giving a sermon illustration, not telling a fiction story.

So before sending it to the next magazine, I simply took out the character's realization of that fact, and made him not want to kill them once he realized why they were so adamant in getting back their children, unborn though they be. The only real difference was that I no longer directly had the character bring out the specific conclusion. Yet the dots were still there that these unborn alien children were worth saving and not killing. But it would be easy for the "pro-choice" reader to interpret it differently at that point, as being respectful of the wishes of the aliens who felt it was important, and maybe those babies weren't the same as ours, since the babies obviously were not residing in a mother's womb specifically, but in a cloud of cosmic dust.

It is also true that the more controversial the topic, the more this will happen. If I had been talking about slavery, I doubt my more overt message would have raised as many hairs. If I had my character realize the were killing a sentient being, like some cosmic pet the aliens were protectors of, I doubt the editors would have felt they'd been hit over the head with an agenda. It wouldn't have taken them out of the story, they wouldn't feel that if the character had thought that, it would feel I was using the story to make a point. The more people who disagree with your character's thoughts on something, the more it will feel to them like the author is attempting to knock you out and drag you to their side of the argument.

It is for that reason the biggest topics that create a sense of agenda in a story are religion, politics, and culture/morals. Anytime those become overt as the underlying message in a story, that's when it will feel like an agenda to anyone who doesn't agree with it. It is one of the reasons why Pullman's "His Dark Materials" trilogy bombed as the books went along. The first book, The Golden Compass, was a big hit. Pullman's atheistic beliefs, however were subtle in that volume and didn't rise to the level of being an agenda. But as the series went on, it became more and more overt, as the whole story was about the death of God. By the last book, it was clear that Pullman's ideology had become the reason for the story. The whole trilogy was a huge illustration about how God was irrelevant and not worth believing in, and a statement where society would one day be: godless.

So a theme or message transforms into an agenda once the reader picks up that the author's primary purpose is to convey a message to him or her. And once that happens, suspension of disbelief is destroyed. Then you'll either have an amen corner from the choir that likes the message, or a closing of the book from those who do not. And even a closing of the book from those who might agree, but didn't buy your book to hear you preach a message. The message and theme must remain inherent to the story. It must serve the story rather than the story serving it. Once that gets reversed, then you no longer have a novel, but a non-fiction book. Once the reader senses, "This author wants me to believe X because of this story," then it subverts the primary purpose for fiction: to entertain.

The answers can be there, but it has to be the reader that comes to drink from that well and sees them, rather than a fire hose spraying it over the pages.

At what point does a message evolve into an agenda for you?

7 Top Ways to Ensure Your Story is Preachy

Yesterday, author Mike Duran on his popular blog, deCompose, posted an essay titled, "The Problem with Message Driven Fiction." As usual, his post generated a good bit of comments. One of the themes arising in the comments is what makes a story "preachy." As one commenter put it, no one says they want their story to be preachy. Yet, we find a lot of Christian fiction that is preachy. So it must be a more poplar goal than the commenters were willing to admit.

Therefore, for those authors who do want to write preachy Christian fiction, I thought it would be a great service to list the seven best ways to accomplish that worthy task. After all, without a preacher, how will they hear? So here they are in reverse order.

Seven

Ensure you have some perfect Christian characters. All by itself, this does not guarantee preachiness, but without it, you have no one to deliver all those poignant lines of spiritual wisdom. And what is a good Christian story without perfect Christians in them to inspire us to such perfection? Someone needs to be the preacher.

Six

Also ensure you have characters that not only need salvation, but will get it by the end of the story. Preferably in an altar call after hearing a sermon, because they by chance stumbled upon a church and decided for the first time in their life to go in because a street preacher called out a Bible verse and it spoke to him or her. Again, doesn't ensure preachiness, but without it, the opportunity for preaching gets scarce.

Five

Make sure the characters end up in a church service at some point in the story. What is more natural to preach to the reader than for your character to end up in a service and listen to a sermon that speaks to them? If the church factors into your story, great! Take advantage of that to get a salvation sermon in. If not? I'm sure you can find somewhere to tack that on.

Four

Sprinkle plenty of Bible verses throughout the story. Especially if you have that perfect Christian pastor or friend who can expound on the meaning in those verses, just in case it isn't clear enough by itself. After all, most Christians don't go around all day quoting Bible verses, and may not know what they really mean.

Three

Don't just show, tell. Don't trust your reader to be smart enough to get what you are attempting to convey in the character's actions and dialog. Make sure one of the characters or the narrator takes some time to fully explain what the reader should understand from what just happened. So if someone rushes into a burning building and saves an baby from the inferno, don't forget to tell the reader how that selfless act illustrates how far God's grace has brought them from the sinner they used to be.

Two

Make sure the plot offers plenty of chances for preaching, either by the perfect Christian or a pastor/evangelist. Remember, plot is to service the message, and that requires getting your characters into situations or discussions where they learn the truth of the Gospel message and other Christian values. Good places to make sure your characters go to are the jail, a bar (but make him/her not like it), the hospital because of some illness or wreck, or a church (see point five above).

One

And the number one way to ensure your fictional stories are preachy: say every truth you wish to convey at least three times. Every sermon has three point, and the Trinity is three persons. The Bible did it and look how popular it is. The formula is tell, show, and tell.

Do you have other methods to ensure preachiness? Don't keep them hidden under a bushel, do tell.

The Bible, Fiction, and Real Life

At the risk of hitting a dead horse, once again, I'm going to respond to something I've heard recently. I've heard it before, and I've responded to it before, but I don't think I have on this blog...until now! What did I hear? In fear of Christian fiction devoid of bad words and violence, etc., someone inevitably brings up the line, "But the Bible is full of horrible violence and rough characters," or its cousin, "The Bible is R-rated."

First, I want to acknowledge where that point is correct. There is Christian fiction that reflects an unrealistic, idealistic life that few actually live. The Bible is full of stories about some very bad people doing some very bad things to other people. Even the "good guys" like King David committed horrible sins. It shouldn't be taboo, as long as we are not in the end promoting sin, to show our characters committing sins as well. Perfect characters are not as easily relate-able to the reader as one who messes up. We inherently know this because we all know just how imperfect each of us is, even if we want to hide that from everyone else.

Consequently, any fiction that only wants to show the ideal instead of reality will be hard for most people to relate to. Heroes should have flaws. Though I will add, sometimes it is good to have the one person who can be the example, but they are usually secondary characters in a good story, not the main character. Like Faramir was with Frodo in Lord of the Rings (the book, not the movie).

And the Bible adequately reflects that reality. All through it we see flawed heroes, not perfect characters. And that fact gives hope to all of us. If God can do something great with that person, then maybe I'm not too far gone.

With that understanding as a given, sometimes I get the feeling that people use that line to give themselves permission to make something as foul-language ridden and graphically violent as they dare, and then use it as a stick to beat anyone over the head with who disagrees with their approach, who says they don't want to read something with that kind of language in it. These are the folks likely to say that the Bible is R-rated, so why can't their own stories be?

Problem is, the Bible is far from R-rated. It isn't what happens that makes a film R-rated, but in how it is shown. A great example are the Lord of the Ring's movies. They are rated PG-13, even though they have a lot of violence in them. Even though you see a head get cut off. What is missing? Blood spewing out when that happens. Even the battle field where they orcs are killed by the good guys isn't blood stained as one might expect after killing a whole pile of orc bodies with swords and arrows.

The Bible doesn't describe in detail all these bad things, it merely relates them to us. It does what we as fiction writers are instructed to avoid: it tells rather than shows. For instance, take a look at the following Bible verse, clearly one of the more "graphic" in there:

Jdg 5:26 ASV  She put her hand to the tent-pin, And her right hand to the workmen's hammer; And with the hammer she smote Sisera, she smote through his head; Yea, she pierced and struck through his temples.

That is PG-13 rated at best. It simply tell you what she did, with no "showing." If we were to write this as fiction authors, we'd have something along the lines of:

She placed the tent-pin against his head. The hammer shook in her right hand so much she feared if she missed, it would crush his head. She only wanted to pierce it, to kill him, to end this nightmare. She breathed deep. Get it over with, before he awakes! She drew the hammer back and without giving it another thought, before she threw it aside and ran, she plunged the mallet onto the tent peg as hard as she could muster. The head jerked as the pin pierced his skull and warm blood shot over her hand. His eyes flung wide and a gasp escaped his lips as his head sank back to the ground, blood draining from his wound, pooling below him. His eyes acknowledged the fact that she had killed him, and there was nothing he could do about it. Air stopped gurgling from his mouth. She threw the hammer down only to discover his red liquid on her hands, staining them with the murder. She heard herself screaming, even though she didn't will it.

So, what do you think? Should God have contracted me to write the Bible? (grin) But you see the difference. That would be R-rated, the former is not. The Bible has a lot of nasty stuff in it, very true. But it doesn't show it, it tells it. And that is why it is not R-rated, nor can it be used as an excuse to make one's book R-rated. If you want to make an R-rated book, that is fine. Go for it. But don't say that God made you do it because the Bible is that way. That's simply not true.

Make the stories real, but make them graphic at your own risk of losing readers. Sometimes it is a fine line to walk, and not everyone will hit it all the time, nor will a particular author always avoid it, if only because everyone's line is drawn in a different place. But the Bible is not R-rated, nor the fact that it does relate some bad events mean the extreme is fair game because of it. If you want to follow the Bible in that regard, you'll never show, only tell. And I don't think most authors want to go there on a regular basis.

Where's your line between "real" and "extreme"?

Is It Christian Fiction?

I'm shamelessly using author Mike Duran's post on this topic to launch into a more expanded thought about the subject. He discusses the issues surrounding how to address a question of "Is this Christian Fiction?"

His answer is it depends on what you mean by "Christian Fiction"? After all, there are those stories which are obviously targeting a Christian market, and those which are not. But in between those two are stories with some underlying Christian themes, but the stories themselves are not overtly so. Sometimes the Christian themes in them are themes that most people would identify with, and so not exclusively "Christian" even though perhaps the author writing the story is Christian and has that ethos in mind.

The problem evolves when a story in that in-between stage makes its appearance on the public scene. Because it is in that gray area, different people are going to identify it as to whether it is Christian or not, based on their own experience or sensitivity to the issues. And what sometimes happens are those who are sensitive to the issue, at the first hint or mention of anything Christian sounding, are going to label it as a book trying to "trick" people into reading "Christian propaganda."

I've not had to deal with this a whole lot, as of yet. Mainly because most of my two published books have been sold on the Internet, not in a brick and mortar bookstore. No one has had to figure out where to shelve my books. If one reads my blurb, while I don't come right out and say, "This is Christian Fiction," it is pretty obvious that it deals with God as a character in the story, though an unseen one. The main character is clearly a Christian, as is his family and the culture he is in.

I've had it happen before, but am still surprised if someone doesn't get that this is Christian fiction. I shouldn't have to spell it out to them. So why don't I? You want to know why I don't put the following in my blurb:

Warning: This book contains explicit Christian messages and images. Your life could be vastly improved by reading this book. Unhinged joy could result if this story is not consumed in moderation. Buy at your own risk.

It's simple. Some people have preconceived ideas about what Christian Fiction is, and I would rather my work be judged on its own merit. So how I approach this subject is based on content. If someone were to ask me if a book of mine was Christian Fiction, I would respond that my book deals with...and list out what the story is about. Then go on to tell them what's in the book, both the Christian elements and the other things, like the basic plot. Then if they think it is Christian Fiction based on that, so be it. If they don't, then so be it.

But if I state my subjective opinion, or try to avoid the label explicitly, when they, if they, read it, they may think I lied to them if their subjective opinion is different. But by focusing on the content, it allows the person to decide. If the story sounds interesting enough, they may not care that it has Christian characters and themes to it. As long as the story is good.

And I have some books, which I hope will come out in the next couple of years, which don't have anything to do with religion. Maybe one can pick up on some generic "good" themes, but the label "Christian Fiction" wouldn't fit them at all, despite the fact that I am a Christian and have written what most would consider Christian Fiction.

In all cases, my opinion is to let the content do the talking. I avoid the label "Christian Fiction" from my end only because I don't want to short-change the reader by them assuming what my story is like based on what they've heard is "Christian Fiction." And because there are elements to my stories that some Christians wouldn't care for as well, they might not call it "Christian." Because "Christian" isn't one homogeneous group.

My brother took my first book, Infinite Realities, and let some Muslims friends read it. Guess what? He said they liked it. Despite the fact it was obviously Christian, they didn't feel I preached at them. Would they like my expanded book coming out, hopefully soon? Maybe not. But the point is, they liked it even though they are not Christian.

Some Christians will like my stuff, some won't. Some who are not Christian will like it, and some won't. Why should I cut one or the other group off by saying, "This is only for Christians"?

To me, that's what it comes down to. I naturally want the biggest exposure, and I know some have preconceived ideas what anything labeled "Christian Fiction" is. I'd rather it be judged on the content, so I'll let them decide by telling them what the book is about, without avoiding the Christian elements in it. That makes the most sense to me.

What about you? How do you judge whether something is Christian Fiction or not?