What Will the Christians Think?
This is the first novel I’m writing where the shroud of “what will the Christians think?” isn’t draped over me as I create.
The first novel I ever wrote, I believed it my duty to preach and convince, using my writing to draw others towards a certain standard of living through the actions of my characters.
Oh dear god, I’m wholly embarrassed by the book. Each chapter, each paragraph, was permeated by a mini sermon, steering my characters, and by proxy my readers, towards a higher call.
My second novel was a little better. It was a comedy, and I believe my subconscious self was poking fun at displays of virtue. I even created a character who mocked the goody-goody daughters (though secretly he was envious). It was how I believed my real-life mockers felt about me.
My third novel, I intentionally threw off any propensity to preach or teach through the experiences of my characters, though this time I was engulfed in the rules of writing for young adults. I attempted to force the elements of popular stories into my writing in a way that wasn’t too obvious. I re-wrote the first chapter at least twenty times, never quite achieving what I wanted to achieve. I was so spent on making it the gripping opening pages to a captivating thriller, I lost track of my own intentions in the mire of what was expected from teen novels.
The second half of the book, I certainly found a voice and a style. This carried over into the sequel. In the sequel, I wrote the first chapter once. I was surprised when it turned out better than I anticipated, considering the disaster of my previous first chapters.
“If there is a book that you want to read, but it hasn’t been written yet, you must be the one to write it.”
Now, I’m writing in the freest form I’ve ever written. I’ve learned about my own voice through the labor of writing itself. I’ve learned what I like in writing and also what I like in reading. With this book, I’m holding to one very foundational principle: I’m writing the book I want to read.
With this approach, I believe there are others who would want to read it, too. When it comes to personal taste, I like good books, with words that carry you away and characters who absorb your interest and friendship. But these sorts of books tend to be obscure and, while the author has more talent than any writer of a blockbuster, they rarely appeal to the masses.
I also like some of the mass-appeal stories. The ones that become their own franchise, though perhaps the quality of wordsmithing is wanting. Never mind, the quality of writing is wanting. However, when it comes to art, the question of what makes good art is a question we’ll be trying to answer until the second coming. These mass-appeal stories are good stories, with twists and turns and one or two tantalizing romances. Their relaxed wordsmithing makes them easy to devour after a long day of work or school.
I may be setting myself up for failure, but I’m trying to achieve both with my story. I’m hoping for creative writing and a gripping tale. I know how the story ends. For the rest, I’m letting my characters lead. They’ve already surprised me, often taking over the story, though occasionally I’ll remind them of the direction we’re heading. We work together, my characters and I, and this teamwork produces better results than when I’m trying to wrestle them into a wooden doll of propriety or dress them up with crowd-pleasing face paint.
This is the first novel I’m writing where I’m not consciously thinking, “what will [they] think?” and it’s working out much better. I’ll occasionally experience that icy feeling in my stomach when I’ve finished writing something I believe “they” will be ashamed of, or an agent or editor well tell me it doesn’t work with the status quo.
Many a writer will tell you to write what people want to read. Many a writer will tell you to be true to yourself. But if I write for myself, is it possible I might achieve both descent writing and a story that appeals to others?
I’ll get back to you on that…