As readers, we’ve all experienced it. That moment in reading a book when you say to yourself, “I can’t finish this book.” Then we’ll give our reason(s) why.

Why one doesn’t finish a book can be varied. A lot of it is subject to taste. I had to close the book, 2001: A Space Odyssey, after reading a whole chapter describing in detail this person’s trip to the moon. Others love that level of description. It bores me to tears.

So while recognizing that fact, here are my top eight reasons, in descending order, why I’m likely to put a book down and stop reading.

8. When I’m Lost

If the writing is such I have a hard time figuring out who’s head I’m in (usually due to a poor attempt at omniscient pov), the list of characters is so huge I need a program to keep them all straight, and/or it is simply hard to decipher what is going on, or have too many run-on sentences like this one, I’ll be so confused I’ll give up.

7. When I Can’t Understand.

I don’t mind learning a few new words, but if the author has a penchant for using rare, archaic words without context to show off his knowledge, it punctures the story with blank holes that are likely important to following the story.

I’m looking for entertainment, not an education. If the later comes along with the former, great! The moment it eclipses the former, I’m finding a new book to read.

6. When Reading Becomes Work.

If your story is more like a puzzle, trying to figure out what the author meant to say because of bad grammar, misspellings, or typos, consider your story toast. It is rare, even among traditionally published books, to not have a typo or other minor problem. But too many such problems, primarily due to a lack of editing, and I’m reaching for another book.

I’m reading a story to be entertained. The moment it becomes work, is the moment I’m no longer going to slog through the author’s meaning maze.

5. When the Story “Jumps the Shark.”

For those not aware, that phrase originated with the TV show, “Happy Days.” The show had such high ratings when Fonzi jumped a series of cars on a motorcycle that the writers couldn’t help but milk it. To up the stakes, they had Fonzi jump a confined shark on water skies. It backfired. The stunt looked so ridiculous that ratings took a nose dive and didn’t ever recover. The term is used to indicate when any story, show, movie, takes a down turn in popularity, usually due to some unnatural gimmick that doesn’t fit, causing people to lose interest.

Unless a book is written by someone like Dave Berry, going overboard on a plot concept or a character can lose me and send me into reason #4.

4. When Plot Holes Destroy the Suspension of Disbelief.

Plot holes in and of themselves won’t ruin a book for most people. The public regularly rave and enjoy movies full of plot holes.

Case in point: Star Trek, the reboot. (Spoiler alert!) You’re telling me that a planet like Vulcan with warp capability, long before Earth, couldn’t have sent a squadron of ships to shoot that chain in half like Spock did at the end? Instead they’re hiding in their cave, seemly ignorant of what is going on. Earth has planetary defenses but not Vulcan?

However, when the plot holes reach a certain level that makes me say, “That would never happen that way,” too many times, I’ll be kicked out of the story and stay that way.

3. When I Don’t Relate to the Characters.

Whether it is because they are stereotypical, one-dimensional, or lack proper motivations, if I can’t in some way relate to them, get into their head, I can’t care about them. I might as well be reading a history book.

2. When There’s No Conflict Within the First Four Chapters.

Either because the story doesn’t have any conflict, or it doesn’t really start until several chapters in. In either case, I’m less likely to wade through backstory, vivid descriptions, and tedious world-building facts without a promise that this is all leading me into a story. No hint or introduction of the plot’s conflict early on, I’m likely to bail.

1. When the Story is Boring.

When I don’t care about the conflict, I don’t care about the outcome. When I don’t care about the characters, I don’t care what happens to them. When I don’t care, the story is boring. If that doesn’t change within the first four chapters (hey, I’m generous), I’m highly likely to close it and move on. I did this with a novel recently by a big-name author.

Those are my top eight. What would you add or not include in your list?

For any publishers and authors who happen to read this, keep these points and those in the comments in mind the next time you write/select a story.

Happy New Year!

We have a winner! Special thanks to all who participated in the 2013 Spec Faith 2013 End-of-the-Year Writing Challenge–those who entered, who voted in either or both first rounds, who gave feedback to the writers, and who were part of choosing our winner. As you can see in the poll results, our winner is Mirtika! Congratulations!

With the year drawing to a close, I thought it might be interesting if our Spec Faith family takes a moment to share writing and reading goals for 2014. I’ll go first.

For my reading, I plan to participate in the Christian Science Fiction and Fantasy Blog Tour again this year, so that means 10 to 12 newly published books which I’ll read and review. We’re starting with Outburst by Jill Williamson. We’ve also slotted One Realm Beyond by Donita Paul for February, A Draw of Kings by Patrick Carr for March, Shadow Hand by Anne Elisabeth Stengl for April, and Cloak of the Light: Wars of the Realm, Book 1 by Chuck Black for May.

For my own writing, I have three non-fiction ebooks I’m aiming to complete, the first scheduled to come out in early January. But this is about fiction. I’m still working on the prequel to the four-book series I wrote called The Lore of Efrathah. The working title for the new book is LIARS AND THIEVES.

So how about you? What books have you heard about that you just have to read or, at least, you hope to read? What writing projects would you like to complete?

Of course, there’s also TV and movies. Any TV shows you’re anticipating? (Besides Downtown Abbey, January 5 . . . but who’s looking forward to that one. 😉 And besides, it isn’t speculative, so it doesn’t count.) How about movies you’ve heard about that are scheduled for 2014?

Even those naughty families who’ve been very, very bad this year — by implying or telling their children Santa Claus truly exists — have surprising company in the form of a Christian classic author.

Yes, I speak of very myth-maker behind the Biblically derived concepts of myth-become-fact and “eucatastrophe,” and the classic fantasies The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings. J.R.R. Tolkien didn’t shy from Santa, or make historical appeals to St. Nicholas, or vaguely reference the fantasy icon of Santa, or “allow” Santa with default suspicion because Christmas is truly Jesus’s birthday.

Tolkien instead pulled off an elaborate deception. Year after year, Christmas after Christmas, he went beyond the cliched — but I recall highly effective — partly eaten cookies and milk and carrots for the reindeer.

Instead, Tolkien being Tolkien, he wrote letters “from” Santa. In his own hand. With drawings. Color drawings. And custom “Arktik” runes. Along with a mini-mythology of Santa, the North Pole, and at least one comically clumsy polar bear who should not attempt DIY projects. Then Tolkien sent these letters to little John, Michael, Christopher, and Priscilla Tolkien. Yes, I am afraid this patron saint of myth-in-perspective outright lied to his own children.

Cliff House
Top of the World
Near the North Pole

Xmas 1925

My dear boys,

I am dreadfully busy this year — it makes my hand more shaky than ever when I think of it — and not very rich. In fact, awful things have been happening, and some of the presents have got spoilt and I haven’t got the North Polar Bear to help me and I have had to move house just before Christmas, so you can imagine what a state everything is in, and you will see why I have a new address, and why I can only write one letter between you both. It all happened like this: one very windy day last November my hood blew off and went and stuck on the top of the North Pole. I told him not to, but the N.P.Bear climbed up to the thin top to get it down — and he did. The pole broke in the middle and fell on the roof of my house, and the N.P.Bear fell through the hole it made into the dining room with my hood over his nose, and all the snow fell off the roof into the house and melted and put out all the fires and ran down into the cellars where I was collecting this year’s presents, and the N.P.Bear’s leg got broken. He is well again now, but I was so cross with him that he says he won’t try to help me again. I expect his temper is hurt, and will be mended by next Christmas. I send you a picture of the accident, and of my new house on the cliffs above the N.P. (with beautiful cellars in the cliffs). If John can’t read my old shaky writing (1925 years old) he must get his father to. When is Michael going to learn to read, and write his own letters to me? Lots of love to you both and Christopher, whose name is rather like mine.

That’s all. Goodbye.

Father Christmas

Was Tolkien sinning?

Did his children as a result of his “lies” inevitably fall into wickedness and atheistic hatred of Christians?

Even if they did, why exactly would Christians care about listening to atheists reasons/excuses for rejecting Christ? Won’t such skeptics also tell you that they never ever met a Christian who wasn’t a hypocrite or that the Church only leads to worldwide evil?

How did you grow up thinking about Santa? How does this — for it inevitably will — color your view of the Santa fantasy now?

We have plenty more to help you explore the Santa subject, in previous years and in this year’s Don’t Ditch Santa series.

Last week we discussed the Christian origins of the Santa Claus myth. Today, we will see how he came to be secularized, and challenge ourselves to remember the true Christian roots of this legend.

Unfortunately, despite the Protestant Reformers’ many benefits, they “threw the baby out with the bathwater” and got rid of all recognized saints, including those who were named “saints” before the more-corrupt methods beginning in the second millennium. And the religious “Saint Nicholas” as a Christian myth and saint dating from the post-apostolic church — he one of the sad casualties.

But the Reformers underestimated the importance of a figure like Nicholas. It turned out that the guise and person of the Bishop of Myra had to take some form to evoke and push for kindness to the less fortunate in the harshest times of the year.

Such a force for good couldn’t be simply quashed! People needed something to fill the void left by the removal of their beloved Nicholas.

Various folkloric alternatives appeared, and paganism began to once again rear its ugly head as these “alternatives” hearkened back to pre-Christian religions. This was not the fun paganism of stories no one truly believes, but a slow mixing of paganism and Christianity.

In response, Protestants gave way a little bit with some weird, un-Scriptural depictions of a Christ-figure giving gifts. But many saw this as the desperate attempt that it was. Outside of Germany, home of Reformer Martin Luther, folks ignored it.

Eventually, the Reformers threw up their hands in surrender and accepted Santa Claus and Father Christmas, among other versions of the myth of Saint Nicholas, as compromises of sorts. Unfortunately, in trying to straddle a careful line of not offending anyone of Catholic or Protestant traditions in any way, and in trying to avoid the mention of the actual man “Nicholas of Myra” and his sainthood, the symbol began to be somewhat secularized.

Sacred and secular

But mind you, the symbol wasn’t entirely secularized. The Christian origins of the myth are still there if you dig beneath the surface. In fact, many aspects of the largely secularized “Santa Claus” and only a little less-secularized “Father Christmas” are still there.

This includes the anonymous giving — in this case, to children or the poor — dictated by Our Lord, the appearance of Santa to help people as a call-back to the myths of the dead Saint being sent by God to help those in need, and so forth.

Even his outfit is a largely secularized version of the real Saint Nicholas’s bishop’s robes (and the garb of his legendary apparitions). If you go to Holland, Russia, Germany, and other countries in Europe — particularly in Central and Eastern Europe — you can still see those countries’ versions of our Santa/Father Christmas imitators, wearing traditional clerical robes believed to resemble the robes of the real Bishop of Myra.

Here in the U.S., if you go to certain churches such as Russian Orthodox and Eastern Orthodox during December 5th and 6  — for Saint Nicholas Eve and Saint Nicholas Day — you can see the role of the Bishop of Myra played during celebrations of his life.

Only in the late 19th and early 20th centuries did the last vestiges of the religious begin to be swept away from the kindly patron saint of gift-giving, sailors, students, widows and childbirth. Ironically, this process of secularization was begun by Christians who produced charming stories and pictures. Their intention was most likely not to secularize Santa so much as to appeal to various folklore of the people of the colonies. For instance, much of the Santa Claus legend has derived from clergyman Clement C. Moore’s poem “‘Twas The Night Before Christmas,” which in turn borrows from Dutch folklore.

Unfortunately, later generations would begin to purposely continue the process of “de-Christianizing” Nicholas.

‘Twas the light behind darkness …

But my point is this: Saint Nicholas began as a Christian symbol. We should make use of and celebrate this mythological and historical figure, not shun him. Whatever you wish to call him — whether it be Father Christmas, or Santa Claus, or Saint Nicholas — is not important. Nor can we can hardly settle here the debate on whether to allow children to believe in Santa, or play Santa while knowing it is pretend, or do nothing.

What we can do is acknowledge the truth that the origins of the myth are truly and thoroughly Christian, with the beginnings tracing back to the early Church. Our question should not be whether to acknowledge Saint Nicholas, but how we should celebrate and remember this man and the myth created around him.

I don’t believe Christians should abandon this symbol, this myth, this true legend. We should make the symbol and the figure it represents part of our celebrations. We ought to redeem and reclaim the myth and restore the Bishop of Myra to his former place as a truly inspiring Christian myth.

No, we don’t have to believe in the reported miracles and visitations. But the Christlike actions behind the myth are true: gift-giving to those in need, giving God the glory for all acts of kindness, and even belief that those we know pray for us in Heaven. ¹

We should share the incredible story of the man who stood against persecution to protect his flock and stay faithful to his Lord and Savior. His story is a good myth. And we can bring the legend of Saint Nicholas back to its Christian roots, but only if we work to incorporate him again into our holidays. This could be our own Christ-honoring gift to our culture.

I sat in the pediatrician’s waiting room with a sick child browsing a dog-eared parenting magazine. It was a glossy holiday issue full of colorful pictures of luscious goodies, glittering decorations, and happy families.

The magazine contained an article by an expert in things child-related who wrote the typical-for-that-venue column about the holidays (carefully avoid the word “Christmas”). She noted how, for too many children, the reality has little resemblance to the window dressing. Financial constraints can put a severe cramp on gifting, causing a child to feel let down. Broken families can create turmoil, leading to feelings of abandonment or rootlessness. Health issues can put a damper on the joy of the season. The pin of reality can burst inflated expectations and leave the head ringing with depression.

I don’t recall much about the article, but the gist of one statement sticks in my mind. Concerning the importance of maintaining family traditions, she said that, whether we teach our children about Santa, “or the nativity, or any of the usual holiday myths,” we should give the child something stable to hold onto.

Parenthetical note: Looking for images to illustrate this post, I used the keyword “myth” to search the Morguefile site. The photo at the beginning of this post was one of the results.

I once had a discussion with a co-worker about this nativity myth. “I don’t understand why we’re supposed to believe in something as ridiculous as the virgin birth,” she said. “Childbirth is such a beautiful miracle anyway, what’s the point of making up something so impossible?”

For one thing, though childbirth is a wondrous event to be sure, there’s nothing miraculous about it. But this was no ordinary childbirth. The Holy Spirit implanting himself in a young girl’s womb to grow into a full-term baby? That’s a miracle. A wholly unique situation. “Unique,” however, is not synonymous with “impossible.”

There’s also the matter of fulfilled prophecy. Historians of every religious and non-religious ilk agree that the prophecies in question were made long before Jesus was born, so it’s not an issue of after-the-fact revisionism.

Moreover, Mary and Joseph couldn’t have contrived to fulfill every aspect of what was foretold even if it had occurred to them to do so. (“I know it looks like I cheated on you, Joe, but I’m still a virgin. Really. Just like Isaiah said. And to be sure everyone thinks that’s what this is, let’s go to Bethlehem to have the baby. The question is how can we get Herod to kill all the little boys in town afterward? I suppose we’ll have to hide out in Egypt for a while, but we’ll come back here to Nazareth eventually.” “Sure, I’ll cover for you, Mary. Why shouldn’t I? But do you think we can time the birth to coincide with that new star that’s supposed to appear in the sky?”)

No matter what the evidence, not everyone’s going to believe Mary’s story. They scoffed at her then, and murky shame followed her the rest of her life. Nowadays, much of the world either puts virgin birth in quotes, suggesting it never happened, or capitalizes it, adding fantastic details to the story and elevating Mary to godlike status. Making the whole thing a myth, in other words. ‘Cause, you know, we all love a good myth.

It’s a shame that one of the most pivotal events in human history has been bedecked with enough embellishment to break a camel’s back. The simple, breathtaking truth becomes the fairytale while the fictional version is the real Christmas, as far as most of the world is concerned.

Yeah, I know, you’ve heard all this before, year after year, forever and ever and ever, amen. I’ll spare you the re-runs today.

However, though the subject is old and gray, it’s still relevant. If we could make Christmas go away by wishing it—or at least, change it into something more to our liking—Santa would have been grounded ages ago. But we can’t, and the question remains: what’s a Christ-follower supposed to do with Christmas?

Here’s a thought: why not celebrate it?

Traditional festivities involve eating and drinking, of course, which should always be done with some sense of moderation. But we can revel with wild abandon in the Christmas spirit of selflessness and generosity, kindness, forgiveness, and hospitality. How about strewing peace and goodwill all over the place like confetti? Adorning our conversations with encouragement and cheer? Making someone else’s holiday enjoyable instead of moping about how someone has ruined ours?

I kinda think the Birthday Boy might like that.

So what if Jesus wasn’t born on December 25? He was born, wasn’t he? What’s more, he’s still alive. Would anyone believe that from listening to you talk?

We grinchy Christians have more to celebrate than anyone else. So let’s get off our high horses—and off your computer, you nerd! What are you doing staring at a screen on Christmas?—and act like God coming to dwell among us is a good thing.

Unrelated postscript: Though it’s the season to be jolly, it’s also time to bid you all adieu. It’s been a challenge and a pleasure to contribute every second Wednesday to the Speculative Faith blog over the past 14 months or so, but the time has come for me to invest my time in other endeavors.

I may pop in for a visit here and there, but for now, hear me exclaim as I drive out of sight,

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Most know the song, “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: a partridge in a pear tree. No, I’m not going to quote the whole song. It does remind us of one important fact. For most of Church history, Christmas wasn’t one day, but a twelve day period.

What we have today is an absence of Advent, replaced by what I call the twelve weeks of Christmas. Except instead of Christmas day kicking off the celebration, it ends it.

Christmas tends to be celebrated in the twelve weeks leading up to December 25th.

Admittedly, this is a bit of hyperbole. But not by much. The twelve weeks ending on Christmas day would start on October 3rd. Around this time people begin thinking about Halloween, which is seen as the beginning of the holiday season culminating in Christmas day.

We know by October 3rd, the retailers are already thinking about Christmas. Many will lament the commercialization of Christmas, but the buying always happens anyway. Retailers are going to supply demand.

It is not merely commercialism. We have Christmas parties in the weeks leading up to Christmas. We put on and attend special programs. We put up our tree and our lights weeks before Christmas day. We play and listen to Christmas music way before the day arrives.

Then once December 26th arrives, the lights go off, the tree goes down, the music ends, and so does Christmas. Some sort of extend the celebration to New Year’s Day, another seven days, but it is understood to be the holidays, not Christmas.

No, very few celebrate the fullness of Christmas. We celebrate Christmas during its preparation plus one day.

We’ve lost the concept of Christmas lasting twelve days.

The net effect is Christmas being more about food, family, and gifts, than it is about Christ. For many years we’ve heard the saying, “Jesus is the reason for the season” in an effort to combat the secularization of the celebration. But that requires actions, not mere words.

For the last several years, our family has made an effort to celebrate the full twelve days of Christmas. Our Christmas tree and lights remain up and on the whole time. After New Year’s Day, our house is usually the lone lit house on the block. I’m sure some of our neighbors have wondered about us when our lights are still blinking well into January.

The great thing about celebrating the full twelve days of Christmas is it gives you more opportunity to make Jesus the reason for the season. It is toward that end I offer the following book: Celebrating the Fullness of Christmas: Devotions on the 12 Days of Christmas. An inexpensive way to keep Christ in focus during your holiday celebrations.

May Jesus Christ, the Word of God come in the flesh to redeem us from our sins, be glorified in our commemoration of His birth over the next twelve days.

Enjoy a blessed Nativity of Christ celebration! Or, just Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas!