Called to Write: What It Is...What It Isn't, Part 2

Last time, as you recall, we talked about writing as a "calling."

As in, my realizing that (as Harry Caray used to say), "...it might be...it could be...it is!"

Yeah, I know. Stop laughing. I know that was his home-run call!

But in a very real way, discovering that you do have a "calling," and that it's something you love with every fiber of your being...is a home run of sorts. (A grand slam, by my way of thinking.)

The next question becomes, then...if you're called to be a writer, who's called you?

The answer to this is obvious, if you're a believer. If you're not, you've got a thicker wicket to navigate. 

Many arguments exist for it being a call from your Creator, but I'm not going into those here--because that's not the purpose of this post.

Although it does address a related issue, which is what I'll talk about next.

And that is...what you're called to write, and how.

And here's where even people willing to attribute their calling to Someone higher can and do get into another sticky wicket.

A generous number of people out there consider their calling--their writing--a ministry.

Some of them even claim that if you are called by God to write, then by definition, that's what your writing is, and you'd jolly well better treat it as such.

But I am definitely not one of these people.

I don't believe that's what a "calling" to write fiction is about at all.

In fact, I will go so far as to say that if you embrace this attitude toward fiction writing...

...you are in very real danger of becoming a hack.

Strong words. I know.

But hear me out.

First off, let's get a distinction clear here.

There is a very real need, and always a market, for good religious writing.

Authentic teaching.

Inspired insights.

Uplifting encouragement.

Exegesis, study, and enrichment.

But IMHO, none of that should be the purpose of your fiction.

And if you're writing fiction with that aim, as the memes are fond of saying, "Ur doin it rong."

I think we as believers do everyone--ourselves, our audiences, and even God--a disservice when we consider our fiction as a way to "minister" to readers.

To get the Gospel in front of them.

To present the plan of salvation.

In other words...to preach.

Because, as Harry Caray also used to say, "There's danger here, Cherie."

I read a review recently in which the reader said a book had "all the elements of good Christian fiction": Scripture was quoted frequently, the Gospel was presented, etc., etc...

...and my blood ran cold.

Because re-read that. And then tell me how that describes a great novel.

Not how it describes a glorified tract, or a "sermon in story form," or a morality play....

...but how it describes a great story.

I would submit that you can't.

And therein, ladies and gentlemen, lies a big problem.

Because inevitably, whether you intend it or not, this approach becomes heavy-handed.

It eclipses your storytelling.

And the ironic part of all this?

It doesn't work.

It preaches to the choir most of the time.

The rest of the time, you join the reject piles of the very people you're trying so hard to cleverly "reach."

Because they know something that maybe you're not ready to admit, and that many of your fellow Christian "fans" won't tell you: that there's nothing clever about it. 

It's manipulative, transparent, and...worst of all...it does fiction in general, and Christian/religious fiction in particular, a bad turn.

In the end, it's little more than script.  

A formula.
And guess what people who write to formulas--who write books in which the same "message" has to be conveyed, and certain boxes have to be checked, over and over--are generally called?

Yeah. 

Hacks.

So what should you write instead?

Stories.

Deep, emotional, romantic, adventurous, madcap, spine-tingling, entertaining stories.

Good stories.

Great stories.

Without evangelization, salvation, Four Spiritual Laws, conversion scenes, testimonies, Scripture quotations, "witnessing," or anything else shoehorned in  that wouldn't be a normal part of the story if it wasn't "inspirational" fiction.

"But," I can hear you protest, "God gave me this gift, and I have to glorify Him with it!"

Yes, you do.

But if you read Corinthians, you know not everybody's called to be a preacher, either.

And I would submit that, if you've been given a storytelling gift...you've been called to do something even better.

Richly, expressively told stories, in wholesome spirit, do give glory to God.  Just as they are. Without the need to mention God's name every other sentence...or, in fact, at all. If it wouldn't normally be part of the story.

If you really feel led to tell the story of salvation, spell things out, and try to "witness"...then write nonfiction. That's where that preaching belongs.

But I would humbly implore you that, if you're called to write fiction that Someone gives you...then, have the trust to simply write it to your very best ability, and put it in His hands to work with further.  Without feeling you have to "use" a book to "get a message out." Without worrying that you'd "better get salvation in here somewhere, or I'm not doing my job."

It's His job to "get salvation in there."

Write the best danged stories you can, and He'll do it.

 Just watch. 

Thoughts?

Janny

Called To Write: What It Is...What It Isn't, Part 1

Okay, this is a post that's been a while in the making.

And some of it is downright serious, even heavy, stuff to consider.

(Don't let that deter you. Keep reading. 😉)

Since I was 10 years old, I've been spinning stories.

Not "lies," as in the tales kids tell to stay out of trouble (or try to get out of same), but actual stories. I clearly remember reading a lot at that age and being fascinated by the idea that you could just "make up stuff" and it'd actually entertain people. So I proceeded to do that with some of the younger kids on the block. Sometimes I'd retell stories I'd read; sometimes I'd make new stuff up. I even tried to write a "book" myself, complete with illustrations. (The less said about that, the better, but hey...I was 10!)

I point out the age at which this happened because I've heard, over and over again, how major "achievers" in the arts, or music, or literature, or anything creative, often have said that they first "caught the bug," as it were, at 10 years of age. The more stories I hear about this, the more convinced I am that that is a crucial watershed in our lives, whether we know it or not, and often, the choices we are intrigued by at that point in our developmental years become the things that "take hold" of us and don't let go. 

Music took hold of me even earlier in life, and it, too, hasn't let go. Just so we're clear on that. But one muse at a time is what we're dealing with here, and so...

...and so, I've been writing. And writing. And writing, since my teenage years.

I was the one the teacher always made read her stuff in front of the class.

I entered a national short story contest at 17.

I was the one my English instructor at Harper tried to persuade to change majors. (!)

I joined RWA, as a matter of fact, not so much because I was a romance writer--but because I read about the Golden Heart contest and decided I was going to win it. You had to be an RWA member to enter. So, I did. (And I did. Win, that is.)

I've come very, very close to selling novels more times than anyone should who hasn't gotten there more than twice (so far), and that with small presses.

I've worked as an editor, a proofreader, a ghostwriter, a writer's mentor, and a ton of other writing industry-related stuff in order to help keep body and soul together.

I love words. Anyone can tell you that.  Heck, I've been known to read dictionaries and say, out loud, to my kids, "Listen to this. This word origin. It is so cool!"

(Yeah. They get that look on their faces, too. LOL)

But it wasn't until I had worked an early version of my romantic suspense book CALLIE'S ANGEL to that magical point known as typing "The End" that I turned to my husband and said, out loud, "This is what I was born to do."

And, yeah, it sounded a tad pretentious at the time.

But it also struck a deep chord that resonated inside me.

And it was scary as heck to declare...even though I felt it, to my bones.

You see, I wasn't raised in the age of snowflakes and "participation medals."

I wasn't raised to consider anything I did particularly special--even when it was.

Which is why when someone gets all excited about a gift of mine, I'm happy--but at the same time, a little confused. And I mean that honestly.

Because part of me, a deep inner critic, is always saying, "So what? Lots of people can do that. And lots of people can do that a lot better than you do."

And trust me, that critic doesn't even take time off to sleep.

This isn't saying that I think what I do isn't worthwhile.

It's saying that, in the overwhelming majority of cases, I tend to think that any particular thing I may have done isn't important or  meaningful or significant enough to designate as "the thing I was born to accomplish."

But in that moment of exhilaration, my heart told the truth...and spoke it out loud.

And I've been coming to terms with that, as part of my sphere, ever since.

It hasn't been easy, or natural, or even believable, at times, to look at my life and consider that a) anything I do is very important in the end and b) the thing that I do that I love to do...may, actually, be "what I was born to do."

In other words, a calling.

But over the past several years, difficult as they've been, I've come to believe.

To acknowledge.

And to accept that, in truth...

...I am called to write stories. 

Sweet fiction in particular. Wholesome. Clean. And, in the end, uplifting.

Not because I set out to "edify" anyone...but because, at my core, this is where I live. I simply bring others into that world, too, when I can. 

This is an honor and a blessing that, now, I embrace...and don't take lightly.

I can accomplish lots of other kinds of writing, of course. And I do.

But these created-from-thin-air stories are what fire my blood.

They're what keep me burning figurative candles at both ends.

And they are--most importantly--a gift God gives me to share.

A gift to both myself and to others.

Engaging "yarns" to spin in my own particular style.

In a way only I can do.

Something pretty miraculous, when you think about it.

And that makes them, and my calling to pursue them, in a very real sense...important.

Not profound.

Not earth-moving.

Not "impactful" or "challenging" or "socially enlightening."

And it's okay that I'm not called to tell that kind of story.

This revelation has turned out to be the most spine-tingling part of this whole journey.

Because a "calling" is as much about what you are not meant to do...as what you are.

How do I discern the difference?

We'll talk about that in Part 2!

Thoughts?
Janny

Books! We Have Books! Part 2...

 

Just got this release from Rob Broder, one of my fellow AKA Literary "Wolf Pack"--and I HIGHLY recommend it. What a sweet book--check it out! 

Janny