Tundra Moon

Flying home, the sky holds endless wonders. A pale blue tundra deepens to a fuller rich blue, blending sky and snow so where they meet is indistinguishable. Making the pink shrinking moon look flat and pixelated, pasted on the blue tundra, a stretched penny, her features grotesque but stunning, grinning up from the endless tundra, slowly sinking into the ice.  Far above her, blue-gray pales to pink-gray, yellow-gray, then beyond the glory of the eternal sky, growing more piercingly rich with the dawn.  Now the moon turns to gray, buried in snow, the tundra swallowing her whole.

To fly above the moon. To live in the eternal glory of the sapphire sky, its world of wonders, its eternal space.  The heavens. All is swallowed in light as the sun vanquishes the night for the second time this morning, leaving me breathless.

Walking

For several hours I poke at myself. "You really ought to go walk..." Until finally between that and some reminders from the husband, I stumble out the door in a haze.  Then blue-gray mountains and white distant peaks rise up around me, and as I turn onto I-84, the Columbia spreads out below.  My spirit soars and I forget why I ever wanted to be indoors in the first place.

The Tides of Life

Time flows on and blogging sort of got away from me. Yet here I am again, trying to pick it back

up. My writing hasn't expressed spiritual things recently, but I did try art again. I started small and worked up to this more complicated star, combining traditional wychinanki with religious art. I like the feel of cutting paper, the way the scissors move, the quick little sli

ces through the paper, the sound it makes. There's a meditative quality to it.

The soul here in this picture is a flower, held by Jesus and his other, with the Holy Spirit looking down it. Or that's as much iconography as I intended while making it. I wouldn't mind being able to find a bit more in it, or perhaps have the next one dig a bit deeper.

I'd like to slowly find my way back into expressing this dimension of myself in both writing and art. I have some ideas, I'd like to finish Icon, as well as write a couple of new stories I've thought of, but so far it remains hard work to bring it out. But like Teresa's garden, I must first haul water before it flows.

I've been reading a book about Teresa of Avila and the first sections of it are going over her metaphor of the soul as a garden and water as prayer. Our soul is a garden and we tend it with the water of prayer. The first stage of prayer is hauling a bucket, the next a water wheel, then diverting a river through the garden, finally rain.

Perhaps it's not only prayer, but also writing, especially if the writing is meant in prayer, to reflect my thoughts, feelings, and relationship with God. I like the image for the inspiration there behind the writing, that it too is a gift and sometimes it's work to find it, and sometimes it flows to us. If we keep tending the garden of the imagination, our novel flowers will grow and bloom.

Season of Change

Change is coming.

The woods around me speak of it, littering the trail with signs: acorns, oak apples, crisp leaves, yellowed and curled. The collector in me won't let them lie still, but must look for acorns still with their caps, or shiny fat round ones with interesting colors of yellow and brown. Even the oak apples are not safe. When I was young I used to worry they were full of bugs, but I found a couple of perfect ones.

My spirit longs for the change. I'm weary of hot summer days, of staring at my computer screen and nothing coming to mind. I need change, the Holy Spirit moving in me like a brisk fall wind, stirring me up, calling me forth.

I love Fall, a season of rich harvest, of icy mornings and hot afternoons, of tea and juice, rich with fruit and nuts and seeds, a time of nourishment and death, a time between. Fall is a season of change, and my heart longs to change with it. I want to die to my current state of lethergy, of sadness, of being mired and stagnant, and gallop across the golden grass of the hills, run through the falling leaves, sail with the "wish" seeds, bits of fluff of milkweed, blown to find new soil for their seeds.

I want, O Lord, my writing to change with me, to bring forth harvest, to blow with new life, to let things die and be reborn. I want to feel that life within me, the life that flows through the season, and flow with it, feel alive, feel young, and pour out everything within me in a glorious outpouring all of nature in preparation for a time of cold. Bless my desire for change and help me change my life to flow closer to you.

Icon

Most of the time I focus my writing for publication for mainstream markets. I've gotten fairly good (in my opinion) at the mechanics of writing a novel, of plot, characterization, narration, dialog, grammar... but often I feel like I'm lacking anything deeper. I'm telling a good story, a rich story, but not one that reflects the deeper element. So, I decided I needed a project not aimed at my further career as a children's author, but something just for me, something to explore spirituality, mysticism, and writing, something that would let me play and explore in an area that normally takes a great deal of care.

Essentially, I decided to write an allegory.

For the process, I decided to borrow from a Christian mystical tradition of Iconography. This is especially popular in Orthodoxy. The icon writer prays and fasts while drawing and painting the image, seeking through prayer to find the inspiration to create an object that will be used directly for prayer by other people. I couldn't help thinking, wouldn't it be lovely if you could use a novel for prayer as well? In a way, you can with some of the more powerful allegories… I learned so much from "Hinds Feet on High Places."

Now, I'm not a real disciplined person. Unfortunately, extra prayer and fasting tends not to happen, but I did come up with a simple way of trying my experiment. My plan is to write a little each day after my meditation on the allegory. I'm allowed to rip off as many bible stories as I like, as much religious symbolism as I like, etc. By playing this way, I can explore both my faith and my writing further. I named the project Icon.

I'm not terribly consistent (rather like this blog) but I do have 16K words so far. Each time I write, I end up turning to the bible for inspiration, and end up reading as much of that as I do write. Can't be bad for me, can it? I'm hoping to finish the book before I do Nanowrimo in November with a secular project. When I'm done I hope I've learned some good things from it I can reflect on and take with me to my secular projects as well.

Considering Plot and Religion

These days, with so many niche markets, it leaves writers who want to lean on their inner lives with quite a dilemma. Where is the line between keeping your novel mainstream and limiting it to a niche religious market? Often I've been leery of presenting ideas about faith and God in a mainstream book, but when I examine the data, it seems clear to me many people manage it. There's also plenty of historical fiction novels where characters display a lot of their religions.

Considering my goal to allow my faith to actively enrich my writing, it's worth looking at religion and plot and storytelling and seeing what I can learn from others. This post is originally one I wrote for the Toasted Scimitar a few years ago on the subject of religion and plot.

Dangers of a Religious Based Plot

When religious themes, actions, or situations are so central to a story that they drive the plot, it means you, as author, are no longer neutral on the subject. If religion is just a colorful world building devise, the story puts no judgement on it. But if it drives the story, it is drawn into the theme and message of the book, and will say something to your audience about the religion/beliefs that are plot important.

The major danger of religion in plot is of course preachiness. When we pick up a novel we want a good story, to lose ourselves in another world, not to hear a sermon on what we should or should not believe. Nothing is worse than picking up a book, getting into it, and discovering mid-way that it's actually a religious apology for someone's personal beliefs, trying to make you agree with them. No one can stand a novel that feels like only a platform to have philosophy thrust at you. Thus, if you find religion is becoming central to your plot, or have a desire to use religion as a plot tool, your main task is to find a way to do this that is not preachy.

Three Ways to Avoid Preachiness

Many authors have struggled with the dangers of getting preachy and/or limiting their audience, and looking at the best works in fantasy that have faced this problem, I see three choices for writing a compelling story.

First, you can preach, but do it with care, and accept the fact it will limit your audience. You do this by writing for the already converted to the religion you are presenting, and give them a story within their world view that they can enjoy and appreciate, and that will deepen their faith. I can almost hear some groans… because this method has been done so badly so often, however, that's not implicit to the idea. Books can and have been written that are powerful works of literature that do this, and do it well. It's not easy, but I never promised any of these methods would be easy. But it does and will limit your audience, because any reader not already of that worldview will likely find the book preachy, so you must accept that.

Secondly, you can use religious or theological principles inherent in your world building, but disguise them so they are a subtext. In this method, on the surface the story appears to be about broad moral principles, but since it's still central to the plot, literary criticism can easily reveal the religious bias beneath them—you're still saying something concrete about your beliefs. The power of this method is that it can be read by a wider audience than method one, because those not interested in your religious subtext can ignore it. It's present, but it doesn't preach. The downside of this method is that it's a tricky balance to keep the message present but hidden. Too obscure and it will be missed completely, too obvious and you're back in category one.

The third way to make religion central to the plot successfully is to have the characters vividly religious but the narration neutral and the plot and author fair and balanced on the subject when all is said and done. This highlights religious issues/tensions/plot devises, yet does not commit the book to preaching the message of any particular character. The danger is that if the author is not excellent at keeping neutral on the subject, you're back in category one, but done successfully, such novels are thought provoking and enjoyable.

All three ways can create a compelling and satisfying story. I'm going to briefly show this by discussing some well-written fantasy examples. There's so many bad examples out there, that there's no need to get into those. (Although there are more good example in the literary and historical fiction genres… it seems more common that religious plots are done badly in fantasy and science fiction.)

Preaching with Care

One of the best books I've ever read in my first category is "Hinds Feet on High Places," buy Hannah Hurnard. The book is a stunning and compelling Christian allegory, and Hurnard doesn't pretend it's anything else, or for anyone else, than those who believe. It is a compelling character story, and anyone who doesn't mind the concept of Christ as savior, would most likely enjoy the book.

The main character, Much Afraid, learns her relatives are planning to marry her off to Craven Fear, whom she is terrified of. Her desperation leads her to finally accept the offer of the Shepherd to send her to the High Places, where she can receive a new name and life. But the Shepherd cannot stay by her side constantly, so he gives her two companions to help her make the journey, Pain and Suffering. At first Much Afraid is furious and distrustful, but as they are forced to face both the dangers of the journey and Much Afraid's insistent relatives trying to force her to return to the unwanted marriage, she must learn to trust them and accept their help.

Unlike many first category books, Hurnard's allegory is a well-balanced plot with plenty of tension, both in action and in spiritual journey. For someone of a Christian worldview it offers deep insights into the spiritual life. However, someone not interested in the Christian faith would probably lose patience with the spiritual discussions instead of finding enlightenment.

This principle was clear to me upon reading Philip Pullman's "His Dark Materials." While it starts out a bit hidden, the series is most definitely preaching to the atheists, and is beyond blatant by book three. He is advocating through story, a certain point of view and does it openly. Despite the fact the story was well-written and had a good balance of tension and plot, because I am not an atheist, I found it annoying, unsatisfying, and preachy, where I would guess a believer of that world view would have found it moving or enlightening.

By openly constructing their plots and characters around their beliefs both Hurnard and Pullman limit their audience to people who agree with them. However, to that audience the book is valuable and well-loved, and both books have been very successful.

Religious Underlying Structure but Hidden

The most famous book in this category is of course, Lord of the Rings. Widely popular among people of all sorts of faiths, underneath the surface, Tolkien's Catholic worldview and theology are easily found through literary criticism. And, they are no accident, Tolkien was openly Catholic as well as a well-known member of Christian writing group, the Inklings, who strove to show their faith through their writing.

However, unlike Hurnard or Pullman, Tolkien's book is neither allegory nor openly advocating for his religion. Readers may not even notice the Christian structure of the story, of if they do, are free to ignore it. Yet, it is undeniably there.

Huge articles, and probably books have been written on the Christian symbolism of "Lord of the Rings." I'll do the short version. In Middle Earth, there are demons (Sauron) and angels (Gandolf). Magic is a force of evil and the devil (the ring). The forces of evil want to corrupt man into using those powers because ultimately that will bring them under the control of the devil. The characters struggle with moral choices when faced with the corrupting power of evil, and in the end good conquers evil and the world is saved.

If you want more details on the theology behind LOTR, I'd be happy to dig up some references to Christian articles on the subject. For the moment, suffice it to say that the book is full of classic theological references to Tolkien's religion, and that those are central to his construction of the plot, but are also hidden enough that no hint of preachiness breaks into the surface story. It's extra for those who care to find it. In this respect, Tolkien is a master at balance, because I've yet to find a way to do this properly in any of my novels, but then, LOTR wasn't written in a day, was it?

Religious Characters without Authorial Judgement

This category is no less difficult, and mostly seen in historical or literary works. However, in the fantasy genre, the book "Beast," by Donna Jo Napoli is an excellent example of this. The main character, a Persian prince, is a practicing Muslim in his historical tradition of that religion. Yet, despite the fact that his religion is the core factor that helps him retain his humanity after being transformed into the beast of the traditional "Beauty and the Beast" folk tale, the story does not try and convince us to be Muslims. His beliefs are part of his personal struggle, and especially late in the book when he meets the French Christian Beauty, no authorial judgements are drawn on either religion.

Both characters act as true representatives of their separate, and often warring religious traditions. Both characters find their religion a crucial support in their struggles in life. Yet, because this is shown as a personal view of faith, the reader is able to sympathize and understand the characters even if personally they disagree with them on the subject of religion. This works much like having friends or acquaintances of other faiths. The reader can respect the character's beliefs, because the character is not actively foisting them on the reader, but only living them out as they see fit.

And, the book is balanced. A faithful Muslim is shown next to a faithful Christian, and both characters are good and honest people. A book that shows everyone of one faith as twisted hypocrites, while those of another as kind people ends up making a statement on the value of various religions, even if it never claims outright that everyone of said religions is good or evil. It implies it through situation, placing the book back in category one.

Picking What Works for You

In conclusion, you cannot have religion as plot important without dealing with the issue of meaning. So, it is important when desiring to use strong religious symbols, theology, or motivations as plot important, that you take into consideration what sort of meaning you want, and the best way to present it. Done well, all three methods produce wonderful stories. Just be careful and conscious of the pitfalls, if you don't want to end up like many of the horrors out there.

A Chance Encounter

We were camping in the Cascades this weekend. Yesterday, when I tried to go hiking with my husband I was too sore, and so I had to turn back to rest while he hiked on. Intending to write I found a quiet place near the edge of a lava flow. I spread out a blanket and started by reading the bible, intending to work on Icon, my symbolic novel experiment in mystic writing, in a bit. For a while I was distracted by the clicking of some insects that sounded something like I might imagine rattlesnakes to sound like, but I started to calm down reading about Solomon and the queen of Sheba, Joash, Elisha, political uprisings and child kings. Oddly, the biblical violence was soothing and spoke of stories both of God and man and what I might write.

Eventually, I went looking for a new quote for the chapter seven of Icon since it wasn't turning out to be about what I thought it would be about. And in the middle of reading Matthew, a deer dashed around the corner of the lava flow. All I heard was the thunder of its steps and looked up terrified. It skidded to a stop, staring at me, just as terrified, ears outward, dust rising around its red brown coat. For a small fraction of a moment, we just stared at each other terrified, and I was unsure if I should run or if it would run me over first, then the deer turned to the side and dashed off, leaving me exhilarated and feeling blessed.

A second deer poked its head around the edge of the lava flow cautiously, warned by the terror of the first. For a second we watched each other, before it turned back the way it'd come, leaving me in peace. Still their beauty touched me, inspired me to actually try to write. I decided on a passage about vine branches from John from the last supper, looked it up, and I took out the laptop to write.

Terror and beauty and mystery was there in that encounter with the deer and I think I am perhaps rather like them when it comes to glimpsing God. He waits, quietly, patiently, and I turn the corner, busy with my own thoughts, only to stop in sheer terror at seeing him. I am curious, I want to investigate, but also afraid, and so dash on in a different direction. Instead, I hope that next time I come face to face with Him, I will pause, then draw closer instead.

Also, I think I should sit quietly out in the middle of nowhere more often. Nature has a way of leading me to its creator.