Some readers of last week’s Why Isn’t There More Christian Fantasy? shared this response:

Well, why do we need “Christian fantasy” anyway?¹

Others frequently discuss how fans should stop looking for any “Christian” label.

They say, “I don’t like/write ‘Christian fantasy.’ I’m a Christian who likes/writes fantasy.”

This implies: We should not have “Christian”-labeled, -categorized, and -marketed stories.

Behind that idea is this argument: Christians are meant to be in the world. We should not separate from the real world in our little churchy enclaves. Also, our cultures of Christian stores and media are so saturated by Amish fiction, Adverb Romance, and dumb stuff. So: shouldn’t Christian fans of fantastical stories ignore “evangelical culture” and join the real world, including non-specifically Christian stores and stories?²

I’m sympathetic to this approach. But I also heartily disagree with it.

I believe we need Christian cultures and subcultures of Christian stories and songs.

This includes “Christian fantasy”—fantastical novels by and (mostly) for Christian fans.

I support the label, the subcultures, the marketing, and even those corny little bookstores.

Here are six reasons why.

1. Christians get to have our own cultures too.

Everyone else gets to have and embrace a “culture,” however lame it is. But Christians seem uniquely embarrassed to have one at all. Think of it: Cancer survivors, single moms, pet lovers, and gamers have groups and arguably  “insular” gatherings. They have their own literature, articles, and subcultures of references, jokes, jargon, and recognized leaders.

Why should Christians feel it’s wrong to enjoy the same blessing of human subcultures?

Popular culture is human stories and songs. All humans have these. A “subculture” is a smaller piece of culture among a smaller set of humans. All humans have these too.³

Christians, don’t feel guilty just because your subcultures exist.

2. Jesus does call Christians to be ‘separate’ in a way.

Plenty of churches and Christians act like naïve children or worse, mean-girl cliques.

But that’s no call to reject Jesus’s call. He calls his people a chosen priesthood, a group of separate individuals acting as one Church.⁴ This means Christians are called to be different from other people. This is not for the sake of “being different” alone. (What would that even mean?) It’s for the sake of being like Him, the God Who saves people.

3. Christian cultures can be ‘redeemed’ like any other.

Irredeemable?

Some Christians carry an assumption like this:

We can “redeem” secular, popular stories such as “Game of Thrones” or The Wolf of Wall Street. But silly devotionals and Thomas Kinkade artworks are beyond redemption.

Frankly, this assumption can betray our own immaturity.

Imagine someone who can’t stand the sight of his own child’s fingerpaint drawings,⁵ but reacts with praise at other children’s work.

If we believe God’s redemption of humans will (in some way, according to his word) lead to present and future redemption of culture, why leave out “Christian” stories and songs?

Someone may say, “But the Christian Fiction Industry is too far gone into Amish lit and so on.” But this is shortsighted. It seems to presume The Industry was founded by wizened bishops in the year 1635. Rather, The Industry has only existed a few decades. Among Christian institutions, this is likely one of the easiest entities to help change and improve.

4. Scripture expects Christians to have their own cultures.

The Bible’s existence alone quietly declares: Study this book. Read it, memorize it, quote the verses, understand these references, adopt this vocabulary, draw the pictures, write the songs. Create cultures that include this Book. Let it seep into and revolutionize your existing cultures.

Jesus and the apostles clearly established a “Church” means of spreading Kingdom cultures driven by Scripture and its Gospel. The capital-C Church is made up of little churches. Little churches are made up of people from many existing cultures, all put together in one group.

There is no way to pursue this divine mission without also getting subcultures with it.

5. ‘Christian fantasy’ can explore worlds ‘regular’ fantasy cannot.

Sure, thanks for that, magician-lady. Also: Who lit all your candles?!

Yesterday I saw a fantastic post by Scott Derrickson. He’s director of the upcoming Marvel film Doctor Strange. He’s also a professing Christian, and his social shares are full of depth.

Derrickson isn’t making “Christian movies.” He’s a light in broader culture. We need this!

But yesterday I also saw an episode of “Arrow.” A magician teaches Oliver Queen to resist dark spells cast by villain Damien Darhk. She tells Oliver: Use the light to resist the darkness. If you don’t have more light in you than darkness, you’ll only fuel the darkness. Helpful, right?

Secular stories have some freedoms. But they also have very tight limits. That’s one reason we need specifically labeled “Christian fantasy”: to explore deeper concepts than shallow and hackneyed “light defeats darkness” themes. Only a Christian making this story can deepen the magic system. Only we can say: The “light” is Jesus and his mission. Only in our “own stories” can we name Names and get specific, and go places other stories simply can’t.

6. Christian authors created many fantasy genres; it’s a family legacy.

Finally (for now), there’s no reason for Christians to shirk from attaching the famous family name, “Christ,” to the family business. We basically invented fantastical stories.

1. Fantasy proper was born from medieval myths, leading to Lewis, Tolkien, et. al.
2. Science fiction has its roots in unavoidably Christian categories for the world.
3. Supernatural/horror is intrinsically linked to the most supernaturally true faith.

Should Christians enjoy (and create stories) that are outside “Christian” cultures? Yes.

Should Christians enjoy and create stories inside our Christian subcultures? Also yes.

We have no reason to avoid either sphere of influence. We have every reason to share a biblical vision of specifically God-glorifying creativity in every square inch of creation.

(If you know what movie the title is referring to, we will be good friends).

I’ve had plague on the brain lately. The primary reason is my upcoming historical fiction epic that takes place in medieval Germany during the Black Death (shameless self-promotion: Nikolai the Penitent releases in July and I am super stoked. I don’t believe there has ever been a Christian fiction book this brutal and grim). Anyway, I immersed myself in the plague-ridden world of the Middle Ages while I was writing the story and it was almost too much for me to handle (and coming from me, that’s saying a lot). The apocalyptic horror that the Black Death unleashed upon the world is incomprehensible in our super-sanitized modern times, even though our entertainment is rife with zombies and bioterrorism and innocuous viruses that end up wiping out most of the population.

Of the usual lineup of extinction-level events, a devastating pandemic seems to be the most possible in our current global circumstances. Did you ever see the movie Contagion? Remember how and where Gwyneth Paltrow contracted her fatal illness (the final shot of the movie)? I’ve been to places like that and it is not hard to imagine a vicious viral killer being spawned from those conditions. With today’s ease of travel, a superbug could hop from hemisphere to hemisphere in a matter of hours. That is one reason why the authorities clamped down so hard on the recent Ebola outbreak in Africa (and why the media was so eager to play out every doomsday scenario in a never-ending news feed). Nuclear war and seismic cataclysms are always looming possibilities but a global outbreak is a more likely threat.

I am fortunate to live in the beautiful city of Atlanta (where the players play and we ride on them things like every…never mind). Atlanta is the setting for a new TV show called Containment. Like Contagion, it is a fairly realistic, non-sensationalized look at how the authorities and the public would handle a deadly outbreak. Of course, the big and small screens serve up a variety of plague-infested entertainment, with most featuring zombies of some sort but some going into full-blown monster mode (the Resident Evil games and movies) and others taking more unexpected routes (12 Monkeys, Children of Men). We all know what it’s like to be sick, and our imaginations don’t have to leap very far to conjure up nightmarish scenarios.

Unlike nuclear war or a 2012-style upheaval, plagues have actually ravaged the world. The Black Death wasn’t a single occurrence; in medieval times, plagues came in waves every fifty years or so. The Black Death reared its ugly head over several decades, decimating Europe and paving the way for the Renaissance. Asia has been hit numerous times, and who can forget the Biblical plagues that God brought down upon Egypt in the Old Testament?

The titan of all plagues can be found in Revelation 16. Seven bowls of wrath are poured out upon the earth, and they are utterly terrifying. Here they are in order:

• Ugly, festering sores break out on the skin of those who worship the Beast.
• The sea turns to blood and every living thing in it dies.
• The rivers and springs become blood.
• The sun scorches those unlucky enough to still be alive.
• The kingdom of the Beast plunges into darkness and people gnaw on their tongues in agony.
• The Euphrates river dries up.
• A massive earthquake causes the cities of the nations to collapse.

If that’s not the stuff of nightmares, I don’t know what is. Suddenly the bird flu doesn’t sound so bad…

Last week, E. Stephen Burnett posted on why there seems to be a lack of Christian fantasy.

Besides digging into an ongoing debate for which there seems no resolution, the post got me thinking. We have Christian readers and Christian writers, the majority of which are found in the glowing lands of sunshine, bonnets, romance, and “feel-good” stories.

Not nearly as much love is given to the genres that lurk on the edges of acceptability with things such as aliens, zombies, or—gasp and perish the thought—magic outside Narnia and Middle-earth. In Christian spec-fic circles, this divide has been discussed as thoroughly as our favorite fandoms, with the recurring theme, “Why doesn’t Christian fantasy, sci-fi, or anything else ‘weird’ sell with the overwhelming success of bonnet-and-buggy stories?

Do we blame the publishers? The stores? The authors or readers? How about all of them?

As Stephen aptly put it:

Our faith is supernatural, fantastical, even “magical.” It’s about a divine/human Hero, Jesus, come to slay the dragon of sin, save His Church, punish evildoers, and redeem the whole world. Given all this awesome, why opt for another (Adjective) Romance novel?

Such tales are brimming with potential to share the most profound, meaningful truths about reality in intriguing, compelling ways. With a few exceptions, Christian spec-fic has done a virtual belly-flop in the CBA pool. The “why,” as I said earlier, has been examined nearly to death. There’s no denying the fact that for whatever reason, Christian readers don’t flock to fantastical stories as readily as do secular readers.

We can debate all day long the causes and trends. The question going forward is, “What will the fate of Christian spec-fic be?”

Here are what I think are the three most likely outcomes.

Scenario 1 – Continued Obscurity

Life in the land of Christian spec-fic will go on as it has—neither vaulted into wild success nor slowly buried by a lack of interest. Authors will continue to write for a small but loyal niche.

Christian spec-fic will remain relegated to a backwoods pond, thrilling those who appreciate what it offers and seeking to transition to the broader ocean of CBA readers.

Scenario 2 – Growing Popularity

I’m in my mid-twenties, and almost all of my reading friends around my age range from interested in spec-fic to obsessed. I know plenty of young writers who prefer science fiction or fantasy over romance or other powerhouse Christian genres.

If there’s going to be a major change in the CBA, this is where it will happen. Speaking generally, Christian millennials hunger for the excitement and otherness provided by spec-fic. They want stories that capture their imaginations. They want to read about superheroes, hostile planets, and daring adventures through castle-dotted lands.

Eventually, they’ll grow up to become editors, agents, and publishers, in addition to writers. They’ll be avid readers and raise their kids to appreciate the delights found not only in classics like Narnia and Lord of the Rings, but in the quality books produced today.

The old guard, readers of romance and all things Amish (except when combined with vampires in space), will slowly give way to the younger generation. A generation that doesn’t see magic as automatically taboo and fantastical stories as useless because they aren’t grounded in reality. A generation that will shine the spotlight on Christian spec-fic.

Scenario 3 – A Shift in Approach

We know “Christian fiction” as a term is a misnomer. There is fiction for Christians and fiction by Christians. This is an important distinction, because it means—enter Captain Obvious—Christians can write stories aimed at the general market. Stories that subtly reveal their worldview instead of blaring it from a megaphone.

If Christian readers continue to snub spec-fic, authors will turn elsewhere to find a readership. It’s not impossible for a Christian to do well in the ABA. In fact, in some cases it’s probably easier. Fantasy and science fiction, while still an undersized slice of the ABA pie, have an avid–and much larger—following in the general market.

Why not turn there?

And in a strange sort of way, I think some ABA readers are more open to “Christian-esque” content than Christians are to “non-Christian” content (language, magic and so forth). Christian authors will try to make inroads in the ABA.

It doesn’t matter who’s to blame in the end for the lack of success, spec-fic stories targeted at Christian readers will slowly fade out of existence. The category known as Christian spec-fic will become legend.

Authors, wanting a readership that, but for a small segment continues to ignore them, will grow frustrated and weary. Publishers won’t take any risks, despite the presence of excellent books, care first and foremost about their bottom line. Publishing is a business. If people won’t pay, you can’t fault the publishers for catering to consumer demands. In order to find the newest release by a favorite Christian fantasy writer, readers will have to look in the general SF/F section of the bookstore.

As a reader or writer (or both) of Christian spec-fic, what outcome do you think is most likely?

In exactly two months, a sizable group of speculative writers with a Christian worldview will gather in Villanova, PA, for the fifth annual Realm Makers Conference. For the past month, here at Spec Faith I’ve been spotlighting some of the faculty who will hold workshops at the conference this year. Today’s featured presenter is Mike Duran, an author who has created a significant platform through his blog, Decompose. His penchant for raising controversial subjects has spilled over to his Facebook page as well.

Mike is a hybrid author, having published his first two novels with a traditional Christian publisher (Resurrection and The Telling, Strang), and his last two books as an independent (The Ghost Box and Christian Horror), with another (Saint Death) soon to be released. He also published a digital novella, Winterland, and a collection of short stories entitled Subterranea.

Mike identifies closely with the horror genre. In fact, he’s addressed this topic in previous years at Realm Makers, has a guest post here at Spec Faith on the subject, and has a nonfiction book—Christian Horror—that explores the topic.

This year he will teach a continuing session on “The Theology Of Speculative Fiction” and an elective on “The Crossover Christian Novelist.”

Because of his past experience as a pastor, Mike’s role as a speaker and teacher is a natural fit. His interest in things on the dark side seems to grow from his experience as well. In an interview with Spec Faith’s Mark Carver two years ago, Mike described his growing up years:

Well, I grew up in a dysfunctional Catholic home. This was during the Vietnam War era and the Sixties counter-cultural revolution. So there was a lot going on socially and personally. My father was an alcoholic, my mother an enabler. I survived Catholic school only to get ensnared in drugs and occult experimentation. After a grueling existential quest, I returned to the faith, bloody but wise. (Emphasis added)

Some of Mike’s favorite authors and those who inspired him also show an inclination toward dark fiction:

I immersed myself in the fantastical: Ray Bradbury, Harlan Ellison, Arthur C. Clarke, Marvel Comics, and Weird Tales. In a way, I still derive inspiration from writers of speculative fiction. Dean Koontz, Tosca Lee, Neal Gaiman, and Robert McCammon are some of my recent faves. (Interview at Author Culture)

More recently Mike identified three writers who have influenced him:

I’m a huge fan of G.K. Chesterton. His stuff is really dense and philosophical. But Chesterton is also wonderfully humorous and witty. I’ve always appreciated his ability to illuminate something complex with a simple image or turn of the phrase. Also, I’m a big fan of Arthur Machen. His style was more Gothic; he embraced a belief that the ordinary world hid a more mysterious world beneath it and a lot of his stories have this creeping sense of horror or transcendence. Then there’s Lovecraft, whose melodramatic language and rather bombastic imagery is something I quite enjoy. (Interview with Mark Carver)

This “mysterious word beneath” seems to be the draw that has Mike interested in horror fiction. He notes particularly that the horror genre

has always trafficked in moral and religious themes. Good and evil, life and death, angels and devils, heaven and hell, human nature and depravity. These themes are staples of the horror genre. They also happen to be intrinsic parts of a biblical worldview. Which is why the genre of horror actually creeps into Christian fiction so often, although it’s not called that. Nevertheless, there is a certain compatibility between biblical themes and classic horror. (ItchyFish Interview)

Mike lives in southern California with his wife, Lisa, who he married in 1980. They have four adult children. Currently he works full time in construction and moonlights as an author.

To learn more about Mike and his writing, you can connect with him in a variety of ways:

• email
• Facebook
• Twitter
• LinkedIn
• Goodreads

Mike’s next book, Saint Death, is due to release July 5.

Storming

by K.M. Weiland

Introduction

Finalist – 2015 Realm Makers Genre Award In Fantasy

In the high-flying, heady world of 1920s aviation, brash pilot Robert “Hitch” Hitchcock’s life does a barrel roll when a young woman in an old-fashioned ball gown falls from the clouds smack in front of his biplane. As fearless as she is peculiar, Jael immediately proves she’s game for just about anything, including wing-walking in his struggling airshow. In return for her help, she demands a ride back home . . . to the sky.

Hitch thinks she’s nuts—until he steers his plane into the midst of a bizarre storm and nearly crashes into a strange airship like none he’s ever run afoul of, an airship with the power to control the weather. Caught between a corrupt sheriff and dangerous new enemies from above, Hitch must take his last chance to gain forgiveness from his estranged family, deliver Jael safely home before she flies off with his freewheeling heart, and save his Nebraska hometown from storm-wielding sky pirates.

Excerpt

One

August 1920—Western Nebraska

FLYING A BIPLANE, especially one as rickety as a war-surplus Curtiss JN-4D, meant being ready for anything. But in Hitch’s thirteen years of experience, this was the first time “anything” had meant bodies falling out of the night sky smack in front of his plane.

True enough that flying and falling just kind of went together. Not in a good sort of way, but in a way you couldn’t escape. Airplanes fell out of the clouds, and pilots fell out of airplanes. Not on purpose, of course, but it did happen sometimes, like when some dumb palooka forgot to buckle his safety belt, then decided to fly upside down.

Flying and falling, freedom and dependence, air and earth. That was just the way it was. But whatever was falling always had to be falling from some place. No such thing as just falling out of the sky, ’cause nothing was up there to fall out of.

Which didn’t at all explain the blur of plummeting shadows just a couple hundred yards in front of his propeller.

He reacted reflexively, pulling the Jenny up and to the right. The new Hisso engine Earl had just installed whined and whirred in protest. Hitch thrust the stick forward to push the nose back down and flatten her out. This was what he got for coming out here in the middle of the night to test the plane’s new modifications. But time was short and the stakes were high with Col. Livingstone’s flying circus arriving in town tomorrow for the big competition.

Hitch and his team were only going to have this one shot to win the show and impress Livingstone. Otherwise, they’d be headed straight from broke to flat broke. And he’d be hollering adios to all those big dreams of running a real barnstorming circus. If he and his parachutist Rick Holmes were going to pull off that new stunt they’d been working on, his Jenny first had to prove she was up to new demands. A little extra practice never hurt anyone—even him—but falling bodies sure as gravy wasn’t what he’d had in mind for his first night back in the old hometown.

In the front cockpit, Taos turned around, forepaws on the back of the seat, brown ears blowing in the wind, barking his head off.

Hitch anchored the stick with both hands and twisted a look over his right shoulder, then his left, just in time to see the big shadow separate itself into two smaller patches of dark. A flower of white bloomed from first one shadow, then the other—and everything slowed down.

Parachutes. Some crazy jumpers were parachuting out here at night? He craned a look overhead, but there was nothing up there but a whole lot of moon and a whole lot more sky.

Then the night exploded in a gout of fire.

He jerked his head back around to see over his shoulder, past the Jenny’s tail.

The arc of a flare sputtered through the darkness, showering light all over the jumper nearest to him. Beneath the expanse of the white silk parachute hung a dark mass, shiny and rippling, like fabric blowing in the wind.

What in tarnation? Parachutists didn’t wear anything but practical jumpsuits or trousers. Anything else risked fouling the lines. And everybody knew better than to hazard a flare’s spark lighting the ‘chute on fire.

He circled the Jenny around to pass the jumper, giving a wide berth to keep the turbulence from interfering. Below him stretched the long metallic sheen of a brand spanking new lake—presumably from irrigation runoff—that had somehow appeared during the nine years since he’d left home. He was only fifty or so feet above the water, and the air currents were already playing heck with the Jenny. She juddered again, up and down, as if a playful giant was poking at her.

Another flare spurted into the night. Thanks to it and the light of the full moon, he could see quite well enough to tell that what was hanging from that ‘chute was a woman—in a gigantic ball gown.

When you flew all over the country, you saw a lot of strange stuff. But this one bought the beets.

This time, the flare didn’t fall harmlessly away. This time, it struck the woman’s skirt.

His heart did a quick stutter.

He was almost parallel with her now. In that second when the Jenny screamed by, the woman’s wide eyes found his, her mough open in her grease-streaked face.

“Oh, brother lady,” The wind ripped his words away.

He couldn’t leave her back there, but he sure as Moses couldn’t do much from inside the Jenny.

He careened past the white mushroom that marked the second jumper. A large bird circled above the canopy. This jumper seemed to be a man—no big skirt anyway. He whould be fine landing in the lake, if he could keep from getting tangled in his lines. But judging his capacity for brains from that blunder with the flare, even that might be too much for him to handle. Unless, of course, he’d shot at the woman deliberately.

Hitch circled wide around the man and chased back after the ball of fire.

This time when he passed the woman, he shouted, “Cut loose!”

She was only twenty feet up now. It’d be a hard fall into the water, but even that’d be a whole lot better than going down in a fireball—a flamerino as pilots called it.

He zipped past and looked back at her.

She couldn’t hear him through the wind, but if she’d seen his lips moving and his arms waving, she’d know he was talking to her. And really, what else was he going to be saying righ now?

In the front seat, Taos leaned over the turtleback between the cockpits. His whole body quivered with his frantic barking, but the sound was ripped away in the rush of the wind and the howl of the engine.

– – – – –

The Author

K.M. Weiland lives in make-believe worlds, talks to imaginary friends, and survives primarily on chocolate truffles and espresso. She is the IPPY and NIEA Award-winning and internationally published author of the Amazon bestsellers Outlining Your Novel and Structuring Your Novel, as well as the portal fantasy Dreamlander, the historical/dieselpunk adventure Storming, the medieval epic Behold the Dawn, and the western A Man Called Outlaw. When she’s not making things up, she’s busy mentoring other authors on her award-winning blog, Helping Writers Become Authors. She makes her home in western Nebraska.

Claim your free copy of her medieval epic Behold the Dawn: http://bit.ly/1OZ8WwF

Recently someone¹ asked in a Facebook group: Why isn’t there more Christian fantasy?

In a few more words: Why don’t more Christian publishers want to publish “speculative”² or fantastical novels that explore magic and/or new worlds?

It’s a common, simple question. I don’t believe I’ve ever directly explored it here.

So here are my answers, expanded from my original Facebook reply.

I know a little about The Industry. At least, I have seen some things mainly from the “just short of being actually published in The Industry” side; I’ve been in orbit for a few years.

I’ve done much advocacy for Christian fantastical stories at SpeculativeFaith.com, where a team of fans/writers and I explore fantastical stories for God’s glory. We’ve also put together the Library of every fantastical Christian-written novel we know about, from any publisher. I think that’s helped give me a perspective on what’s available.

Here are a few points I’ve gathered and tend to harp on.

Q. Why isn’t there more Christian fantasy?

Answer 1: There has been, but it failed.

I know many Christian editors and authors who did or do publish fantastical titles, e.g. supernatural/fantasy/sci-fi. And that effort went over like a dead drone. Not because the publishers were not willing. But because the readership did not respond.

Without exception, the Christian fantastical titles I enjoyed in the 90s and 2000s³ are now out of print at their original publishers. Some, such as Oxygen and the Firebird series, ended up being republished by Marcher Lord Press, now known as Enclave Publishing.

Answer 2: There is, but you haven’t heard of it.

Some Christian authors who tried fantasy/sci-fi at larger publishers ended up jumping genres. Or they moved into indie or self-publishing. In some Christian circles, this means even less opportunity for the Ministry platforms a traditional publisher might afford.

Even apart from that, you likely haven’t heard of an author’s self- or indie-published works.

From here it appears that a new author must be able to be a full-time author/marketer to work at making a living from being a full-time author/marketer. Catch-22?

3. There is, but readers aren’t there.

This question is not about the writers/publishers not giving the supply.

It’s about readers and what they demand.

That’s why I overtly push against the “why don’t Christian publishers and writers do X” line. Fact is: Christian publishers and writers have done X, and readers did not respond.

I’ve begun to wonder, among some of the “Christian fantasy” circles I know, whether some writers simply do not know of the many, many writers and publishers who have tried this, and are therefore led to conclude “Well, someone should try it,” e.g. reinventing the wheel.

After I wrote this material, an editor with a Christian publishing house commented:

It’s not that publishers haven’t tried to publish speculative fiction before, but the Christian readers didn’t respond to it. I actually have on my desk a fantasy trilogy that [my publisher] did in 2007; no one bought it and it’s out of print now.

And while Christian publishers definitely should be more willing to take risks, Christian readers (and Christian stores, even in the age of Amazon it’s actually amazing how much they influence what gets published) have often punished those who took risks. That’s why we’re stuck in a never-ending vortex of Amish Romance (and now coloring books).

So here’s the real question we ought to ask:

Q. Why don’t more Christians want more Christian fantastical stories?

Our faith is supernatural, fantastical, even “magical.” It’s about a divine/human Hero, Jesus, come to slay the dragon of sin, save His Church, punish evildoers, and redeem the whole world. Given all this awesome, why opt for another (Adjective) Romance novel?

Answer 1: Shallow theology and legalism.

The notion goes: We only need to read “clean” stories, if any, about “realistic” things.

Answer 2: Wrongful pragmatism.

This notion goes: The only books we “need” are about real-life-like people and events and valuable things like Family and Evangelism. And even if we do get crazier, like with Frank Peretti or Left Behind, well, those are about biblical facts or events that could really happen.

Answer 3: A flawed and un-biblical view of the purpose of human stories and culture.

This notion goes: We only have stories and songs because of some deficiency because of sin (e.g. to educate, evangelize, or entertain). But stories and songs serve no purpose as part of God-given humanity or God’s command to make something of the world and thus glorify and imitate Him.⁴

What if we work to correct this flawed belief in ourselves and then others? What if we point to the holiness-endorsing, God-glorifying purpose of what stories and songs are really for?

That’s what I want to do: Challenge poor justifications for popular culture (e.g., human stories and songs). I want to explore biblical purposes for these things: To help us glorify God and enjoy Him forever. If we do “inception” on people with this idea, we’ll have more reader demand for better and more fantastical stories. And then more Christian publishers will naturally respond. Because they are not just pastors/ministers who should “do the right thing” regardless of what customers want. They are businesses. And that’s okay.

In this new category—Whiplash Wednesday, an off-shoot of Throwback Thursday—Yvonne Anderson‘s article about preachy fiction delves into the Christian distinctive of Christian fiction.

From time to time Christian novelists inevitably look at the intersection of our faith and our stories. At the same time, readers wonder what they should expect from a novel put out by a Christian, whether as an independent or through a small or large traditional press, Christian or general market. A few years ago one of Spec Faith’s regular columnists tackled the subject.

For what it’s worth, I agree—sort of. I certainly agree in principle with what Yvonne wrote. I tend to think, however, that there are many approaches in accomplishing the shared goal. See what you think and let us know in the comments.

– – – – –

How Can They Hear
By Yvonne Anderson

A common complaint with Christian fiction is that it’s too preachy. Personally, I’m more apt to be dissatisfied because it’s not preachy enough.

Before you prepare the tar and feathers, please hear me out.

Maybe “preachy” isn’t the word I want, if preachy means, as one source defines it, “Having or revealing a tendency to give moral advice in a tedious or self-righteous way.” The “tedious or self-righteous” bit is a valid objection; no matter what the message, those qualities make for bad writing. They’re not particularly desirable in conversation, either. That sort of thing is just plain annoying.

Merriam-Webster’s definition is a little more vague: “marked by obvious moralizing.” What, exactly, constitutes moralizing? and at what point does understandable become too obvious? Is it only objectionable when Christians do it? or should, say, the makers of the movie Avatar be taken to task?

While you’re mulling those questions, here’s another for you: How effectively can Christ’s disciples carry out the Great Commission if they never spell out what they’re talking about?

Yeah, yeah, I know: Jesus spoke in parables. But how many of those parables were directed toward the lost? Not many. Jesus told stories to confuse the faithless while illustrating truths He wanted His followers to understand (Matthew 13:11-13). And, as you may notice, even the disciples often didn’t get the point until He explained.

Another familiar example of scriptural storytelling is found in 2 Samuel 12. The prophet Nathan told King David about a wealthy man who took a poor man’s pet lamb to feed a his guest, thus sparing his own flock. Nathan got the desired response from David – outrage. But until he explained the parable, the king didn’t get that the story was about him.

In other words, unless they’re accompanied by clear preaching, most parables are lost on the lost.

Moreover, Jesus didn’t only tell parables; on some occasions, He spoke plainly. I am the way, the truth, and the life; no one comes to the Father but by me is pretty blunt, if you ask me.

If we truly believe Jesus is the world’s only hope, I think we have a moral obligation to say so. In 2 Kings 7:9, even the lepers knew they had to share the life-saving good news with the rest of the city. More to the point, Jesus commanded us to tell the world. I’ve never seen any scriptural justification for saying, “No, thanks, I’ve got better things to do.”

And let’s not forget what Paul said in Romans 10:14 (paraphrased): how can they believe in Jesus if they’ve never heard of Him? And how are they supposed hear without a preacher?

I’m not suggesting everything we write must include a Romans Road-style plan of salvation. But as Christians, everything we write (as well as everything we say and do) should reflect His truth without distortion.

In his guest post on this blog last Friday, Robert Treskillard related how the Lord used Christian speculative fiction as a tool to draw him to Christ:

…a friend shared The Chronicles of Narnia with me and explained that Aslan represented Christ. This opened my eyes to things I had rarely, if ever, thought about. Within three years, God brought me to faith.” Don’t miss the part where he said “a friend… explained…

Because Aslan’s substitutionary sacrifice was so obviously a picture of Christ’s, it was easy for the friend to use it as an illustration. Nor was it difficult for Mr. Treskillard to get the picture.

“But,” you may say, “not every story needs to be about salvation.” No argument here. But whatever the theme, our stories should give an accurate reflection of God’s attributes. Christian characters (or those that represent them in speculative fiction) should be believable and lead lives a reader would want to emulate. Scriptural values should be valued and sin should not be glorified. Let’s show the world what Christianity’s really all about.

Though we should labor to get the point across with skill and finesse, we should, in fact, get the point across. Most importantly, let’s not be afraid to talk about Jesus—because it’s all about Him, you see. We can make all the vague allusions we want. We can write plainly about God and heaven. But unless Jesus Christ is the foundation of our stories, they’re flammable. Wood, hay, and stubble.

As Christians, our prime directive is to take the gospel of salvation to the world. How God would have each of us do this is between Him and the individual. For most of us, I suspect it will be a combination of writing and something else, something carried out through the vehicle of the church. But if we are called to write, let’s endeavor to make sure what we write is in line with our calling.

Some time ago, before julie Gwinn became an agent, I had contact with her in my role as the organizer of the Christian Science Fiction and Fantasy Blog Tour. At the time she was working for a publisher in a marketing capacity and was the person I contacted to set up tours. Since then, she’s moved to the agency side of the publishing business. In 2014 she became an agent at The Seymour Agency and in that capacity will join the Realm Makers faculty in the upcoming conference. The elective she’s scheduled to teach is entitled “Developing the Best Proposal Ever.”

Originally from Ohio, Julie lives in Nashville, is married, and has two children. She’s spent more than a decade in the book industry in one capacity or another. As an editor in 2013 she won the ACFW Editor of the Year award. She’s also spent many years working in advertising, marketing, and public relations, including volunteer positions at a number of non-profits.

In a recent interview, Julie answered a question about trends in the Christian publishing industry. First she noted that Amish literature seems to have plateaued. Then she said this:

I also see spec/fantasy/sci-fi growing in Christian publishing. Realm Makers, a writer’s conference for Christian spec/fantasy/sci-fi authors has doubled in size in three years.

I find such an answer encouraging on a number of levels. First, it’s exciting to hear this independent report about the popularity of Realm Makers. Second, it’s great to know that industry professionals are taking note of the interest in speculative literature.

Julie’s interest in speculative literature seems to have some roots in her personal interests. She lists Lord of the Rings, for example, as one of her favorite movies, and has named Harry Potter as her favorite speculative hero. She also includes speculative literature among the genres she will represent. However she has some limits. First she doesn’t represent horror:

I do not represent horror as this is not a genre I read and so I’m not familiar with what makes a great horror novel.

Second, some speculative fiction falls in the “done too often” category. In answer to what she has seen too much of, Julie said, “I’ve seen a lot of dystopian, angels and demons, novels where the protagonist suffers from multiple issues (alcoholism, bulimia, abuse, homelessness).” I suspect a writer would have to produce an exceptional story with a unique premise and character if they wish to approach Julie for representation in those areas.

As an agent Julie provides writers with some good advice. She emphasizes the need to create a platform, to pay attention to specifics such as grammar and typos when querying an agent, and doing research to find the best representative for you and your work.

At present Julie is open to submissions. She “accepts queries in the following genres: Women’s Fiction, Romance (contemporary, historical, suspense, inspy. Amish) Spec Fiction and Fantasy, Mysteries and Suspense, Inspirational Fiction and Nonfiction, Historical Fiction, YA.” (from the Seymour Agency website).

Writers seeking an agent who wish to contact Julie may do so at julie@theseymouragency.com . Of course one great way to move your query to the top of the pile is to meet her face to face at the Realm Makers Conference. That’s the best way to get to know her and to pitch your work directly to her.

When Christians in their stories, songs, and discussions mention God’s Law, non-Christian neighbors don’t have a clue what Christians are talking about.

They also don’t get Christian “code” language about repentance, sin, death, and hell.

Fortunately, some other Christians (or professing Christians) understand that non-Christians don’t understand these concepts. These Christians know their non-Christian neighbors interpret these concepts as expressions of hate, guilt, doom, and power plays.

So their solution? Stop talking about God’s Law entirely.

Their solution is to assume their neighbors know all about what God’s grace means.

Several readers of this Franklin Graham post tried this “solution” in the comments section. This “solution” also pops up in conversations, books, novels, songs, sermon series, and blog articles that purport to explore how Christians should Engage A Post-Christian Culture.

One Graham critic used this assume-grace Christian code while making this assumption:

Shame on you, Franklin. Your dear father, Billy, would never have stooped to this level of vitriol against humans we have been commanded to love, not judge nor condemn, and certainly hurl no stones. Islam’s Taliban is a poor example for you to follow. Your father and our dear Lord provide a higher example.

Phrases like “we have been commanded,” “judge or condemn,” and “hurl … stones” are biblical references, particularly to the account of John 8:1-11.¹ So the writer is trying to speak from a Christian perspective.

But the writer does not seem to understand none of this will be any help to non-Christians.

2. Non-Christians do not understand God’s grace

Such slogans as “God’s only law is love” only make sense in Christian subcultures. They provide no sense or comfort to the person who hasn’t a clue about the biblical concept of God’s Law.

I’ll spend more time with this problem because I see it far more often in Christian cultures.

Here’s how the problem breaks down. A Christian is in a discussion with other Christians who are acting mean (or supposedly acting mean). In response the first Christian assumes:

1. My non-Christian neighbor has had the same struggles with legalism as I have.
2. That other Christian is acting legalistic, like the mean Christians I’ve met before.
3. My neighbor feels enough guilt as it is. Someone else already made them feel that way.
4. I don’t want to do that. I want only to reach my neighbors with God’s love and grace.
5. So I’ll talk about Jesus’s grace and acceptance, which everyone (like me) would love.
6. Non-Christian neighbors will see the contrast, and consider embracing Jesus.

To be sure, there are many legalistic and nasty Christians who need to be critiqued (but first with Scripture, not sentimental appeals). Their false ideas and un-Christlike behavior should be naturally challenged and exposed in stories and songs. And in some cases, such “mean Christians” do mean well, but their jargon and assumptions betray their insularity.

But Christians who assume non-Christians easily get biblical concepts of grace, love, and mercy are just as insular.

They don’t have a clue how non-Christians really interpret these terms.

Sure, most non-Christians are (wrongfully) repulsed by the idea of a loving yet disciplining, holy, judging God. They may claim they’re perfectly okay with a “loving” or “accepting” God.

But when many non-Christians hear Christians bring this assurance—“God isn’t mean or nasty! In fact He is very loving and accepting of people”—they are not always thinking like Christians think. They aren’t always thinking, “Finally, here is relief from this guilt I have under the burden of sin and the Law.” They aren’t always thinking, “At last, Someone Who can forgive me!”

Instead, at best they are thinking, “Good. At least some Christians will accept me and won’t ever challenge my sin with this ‘Jesus’ stuff.” And at worst (especially if they are political power-player types) they are thinking, “Good. Here is a Christian who is a useful idiot.”

For those Christians who try the “grace and acceptance” approach alone, trying to find common ground with non-Christians, I must be firm yet truthful: Many non-Christians simply do not understand your journey from sin, to legalism, to forgiveness. They can’t care about or identify with any of that. They view “legalism” and “good purpose of God’s law” as one and the same thing—something evil to get away from, by pretending it doesn’t exist.

Applications to fiction

Alas, when Christians do not understand this fact about our non-Christian neighbors, we grumpily or cheerily head out to combat or “love” our neighbors without having a clue.

And some of us write stories in which we attempt to “evangelize” imaginary beings.²

Not all Christian novels are this way. We need to stop pretending they are. But I have read some of them that are still like this: They are written by, published by, marketed to and sold to Christians, but are based entirely around the story of an imaginary non-believer.

The secular character serves as wish-fulfillment for some of our over-sheltered evangelical desires. He/she is convinced by soft-soap clichés, such as “just take a leap of faith.” Or the secular character hears a good-cop-Christian assurance like, “Yes, God really loves you,” and are led to sentimental tears, rather than confusion or eye-rolls. Such secular characters act as if they somehow already understood the Law, which would mean Grace comes as a relief to them. But of course, in such stories, the Law doesn’t even make a cameo.

So what’s the solution?

One offered solution might be, “Christians shouldn’t share stories or conversations about specific spiritual concepts like law and grace. After all, Just Tell the Story.”

But we may as well claim, “Write a novel, and if necessary, use words.” Law (and sin, guilt, repentance, punishment) and grace (and love, mercy, forgiveness, atonement) are crucial to all stories, and to the reality biblical Christians live every day. Without reflections of law and grace, there is no plot. Without a plot, there is no story—either in fiction or in reality.

Thus our stories, songs, and discussions must include these concepts.

But we must be wiser about how we explore these reflections, not only to a wider non-Christian world but to Christian who are themselves confused about law and grace.

We cannot assume our non-Christian neighbors will get either God’s Law or God’s grace.

And we absolutely cannot leave one or the other out of our stories, songs, and reality.

How have you seen God’s Law and God’s grace best communicated, especially in stories? How have you reflected these beautiful truths to the non-Christian neighbors in your life?