Pondering: futility of godless stories

Ponder with me the shallowness of stories that omit any divine purpose. Any intervention or God-given purpose. As writers creating fictional realms we have the opportunity to omit God… or do we?

A story I moderately enjoy centers around a Buddhist monk who is on a quest to find the equivalent of the chosen one. The chosen one must have certain qualities and the monk seeks out a man with those qualities. In his quest he relies heavily on a prophecy that gives him signs he can follow so that he will know for certain he has found the one. There is never a mention of divine intervention. The story as a whole is devoid of God and in this missing element it becomes shallow.

It makes no sense for there to be a prophecy unless there was One to inspire the prophecy. And it is contradictory to choose one man based on moral qualities and yet ignore where those moral qualities come from.

Is it not interesting? While purporting high moral standards, secular stories miss the all-important question, which is, that if there is a moral law then Who gave that law. And if there is no Divine giver of moral law then morals are dictated by mankind. And if mankind dictates morals then he is not responsible to a higher power, and without that responsibility mankind is free to follow their own moral codes. One person may say that a thing is wrong while another will say that it is right. Who is to say which is which? They are both men. They are both fallible. More importantly there is no Judge to hold them to a standard of morality.

You cannot have moral law without a Lawgiver, and the same law loses its power if you deny the existence of the One who established and enforced those laws. In truth there would be no solid consequences to immoral actions because no one could say that the law was any better than the lawbreaker’s moral opinion.

Q: Do you ponder the necessity of God in stories?

 

How my Grandmother’s book keeps giving

Growing up I read lots of books. I loved a good story. The tales of King Arthur and his knights, of fairy tales, of Christian allegories… they fueled the fire for storytelling. I grew up in rural Connecticut where small towns and their tiny libraries were the norm, and it’s amazing the treasures that could be found on those old shelves.

As a writer you can mine treasures from old books. It is an unparalleled feeling to look through a long-forgotten volume that, to your knowledge at least, may be the only copy remaining to the world.

Those little old town libraries had great book sales. Often you could pick up a hardcover copy of exactly what you wanted for a dollar, or a paperback for fifty cents. But what I was always on the lookout for were the old volumes. Hardback volumes printed at the dawn of the 19th century, or in the 1800’s. I focused on historical books because their accounts were not burdened by the modern perceptions of the author. Little did I know that some of the greatest treasures could be found in short story collections and poetry.

Some years ago I was visiting my grandmother (my father’s mother) and I told her my vision for using my own publishing company to bring old, long-forgotten volumes back into print. She went and retrieved a couple of books for me and I’ll never forget how pleased I was to get a heavy volume titled The Children’s Book of Poetry. It was printed in 1879.
old book page excerpt
I’ve not finished this book… not by a long shot! It is not merely a collection of poetry, it is an arsenal of stories drenched in variety and, most importantly, morally constructive.

The value in this book is that I can read these old pieces, none of which are thus far familiar to me, and find fresh inspiration. Inspiration that will help feed my creativity for years to come. All thanks to my Grandma. She is the sweetest lady and I’ll always hold this book with fondness, knowing that she gave it to me. I’ve already gleaned some great ideas from these “lost” pieces.

You see? The value in an old book (from the writer’s perspective) is the content it offers. Not its value or interest as an antique.

Q: Do you have any old books from which you might glean inspiration for new content?

 

How Star Wars impacted my thinking on stories

I was probably around nine years old. I remember sitting in my grandfather’s living room, my eyes glued to his television. He had an extensive collection of VHS tapes and he was fond of science fiction. That day he played Star Wars: A New Hope… and with a few swings of his lightsaber Alec Guiness convinced me that Ben Kenobi was the coolest sort of hero.

Yep, I’ve been a fan ever since! I love looking back at that moment when I saw Star Wars for the first time. I can recapture that sense of amazement experienced only in that first moment of discovery. I already loved stories. I read extensively and wrote quite a few of my own fictional pieces, yet up to that point I think space opera and fantasy had not entered my realm of creative thinking. My first brush with anything close to it had been Pilgrim’s Progress, an allegory of the Christian life that feels fantasy-ish.

In Star Wars I recognized the value of different strong personalities in story. Han Solo of course would not let anything water down his swashbuckling attitude. He opposed everyone on his team and loved everyone at the same time. Ben Kenobi took every perilous encounter in sober stride, wisely weighing the consequences of his actions and of those around him. He was feeble yet in his eyes was a playful, indomitable will. He would not be denied. Even R2D2 and C3PO possessed unique personalities that made them generationally memorable.

To my young mind these characters were the catalyst for an amazing array of story possibilities. I remember staying up late at night telling my own Star Wars spinoff stories to my brother and sister. In childish fun these spinoffs often degenerated into silliness. (I remember one particular tale where Princess Leia met up with Emperor Palpatine and turned her own powers on him, thoroughly decimating him).

Looking back I realize that all of those silly spinoffs were the continued growth of my creativity.

Star Wars stories helped me realize that storytelling has no limits except those that we place upon it. What you imagine, you can create. What you fear, you can face. What you aspire to be, you can become. Strange places that don’t even exist, you can visit.

The imagination is limitless and its power is exploration to reveal to us the elements of story that matter to us. The elements of story that define the choices we make. The characters whose interactions help us understand how we want to interact with people in real life. The characters that help us understand why we find certain people more interesting than others.

Q: How did the stories you enjoyed as a child impact the person you are today?

 

How to avoid cookie-cutter characters

Cookie-cutter characters kill fiction. Weak villains and weak heroes, characters that we can easily forget. How do we avoid this to strengthen the books we write?

Remember that childhood tale of the Gingerbread Man? Oh yes, he was cut out of cookie dough and ran away from the little old woman, shouting, “Run, run as fast as you can. You can’t catch me, I’m the gingerbread man!” He ran until he came to a river and there the sly fox fooled him and at the last ate him.

The story is simple by design, yet it gives readers and incredibly memorable impression of the gingerbread man. Why? Because in a short time you understand the gingerbread man’s primary traits. Namely, he is over-confident and brainless. He is so consumed by his desire to escape everyone that wants to eat him that he jumps into bed with the devil himself.

Create memorable characters by focusing on the traits that make them themselves. What makes them tick? What makes them different from their peers, or do they follow the crowd? What strengths can they use to rise above their circumstances… or what failings will we see bring them to a miserable end?

It was said of J.K. Rowling that she created 3rd dimensional characters in her Harry Potter series, and I quite agree. The characters had personality. They had depth. We could feel what they were feeling, or at the least understand the motivations behind their actions.

All great fiction stories are like this, even if they are plot-driven rather than character-driven. Weak characters will kill any good story. If you mold them in the image of known characters the readers will resent it, or at the least find it forgettable. But if you fashion a new individual with their own set of traits and deep-rooted motivations for the actions they take, you will create a story worth re-reading. One that one generation will treasure for the next.

Q: What stories have you felt use too many “cookie-cutter” characters?