An article on the perils of Romance fiction, Amish stories, Tales of the Bonnet, and other subversive incitements to lust, lasciviousness, and impure imagination caught my eye the other day.

I experienced a thunderbolt of inspiration. Divine inspiration. The author, and the rest of us, have missed the true spiritual threat lurking among the stacks of supposedly “uplifting” reading material that burden the shelves of our supposedly “Christian” bookstores.

Cookbooks. Hundreds of ’em.

You might say that nothing is so natural as food, and a shared meal is the foundation of Christian fellowship and family unity, and I would agree with you. All sin begins with something good, some gift of God that becomes horribly twisted by our fallen desires. The cookbook may begin from an innocent motivation, but it leads inevitably to the destruction of the fellowship and unity that we seek. Here’s how:

1. Cookbooks breed dissatisfaction with traditional home cooking. Suddenly, salt and pepper aren’t good enough. We need exotic spices with unpronounceable names from exotic places with unpronounceable names where people participate in unholy rituals with unpronounceable names. Mom’s meatloaf and fried chicken seem bland and uninteresting by comparison. Family members begin to prowl the urban backalleys late at night seeking the titillation of Pressed Duck, Beef Wellington, or, heaven forbid, Moo Goo Gai Pan.

2. Cookbooks create dissension and jealousy within the Church. Once the cookbook has infiltrated the house of worship, nothing is ever the same again. Grey-haired cornerstones of the congregation totter home from church potlucks in tears, their macaroni & cheese and carrot-jello molds barely touched. Families stop reading the Bible and turn to ever-more-expensive recipe tomes, searching for the perfect dish to silence the boasting of their neighbors across the aisle. Cherry pie is supplanted by Cherries Jubilee.

3. Cookbooks corrupt the mind with lustful images of culinary excess. I mean, just look at this. It’s shameful. Gluttonous. There are worse things out there–dishes prepared from parts of the animal never meant to see the light of day. I’ll spare you that indecency.

4. Cookbooks are cutting into my market share. I have a line of spiritually-uplifting cookery pamphlets that keep food in its proper place and preserve the Christian values of a modest meal, tastefully prepared. They’re available in paperback and e-book from my personal publishing house, FredBooks.com. Here’s a sample:

• Cooking with Jesus: Satisfying Meals from Five Loaves and Two Fishes
• The Prophet Diet: High Protein, Low Carb, Organic Dishes Inspired by John the Baptist
• Manna Rebooted!
• The Sanctified Chicken: Because Game Birds Will Kill You (Numbers 11:31-34)

Now, go forth and eat the way God intended.

I am in conflict. I believe in telling the truth and I believe in the creativity of Man based on the Imago Dei.

Part of me resonates with the “Evolution Of The Artist.” It sounds so freeing to color outside the box, to soar above and beyond any limitations. I’ve even written an article here at Spec Faith describing how the Christian is the most free writer of all.

On the other hand, I’ve recently written an article at my own blog stating that truth puts parameters around our imagination. Which suggests closing Christian writers and Christian fiction in a box — a regulated, formulaic, orderly, artistic-killing box complete with gatekeepers to insure no toe crosses one of the lines.

Are Truth and Imagination in conflict?

They can be.

Think for a moment about Nebuchadnezzar, king of Babylon. He imagined himself to be the central figure of the empire he ruled.

The king reflected and said, ‘Is this not Babylon the great, which I myself have built as a royal residence by the might of my power and for the glory of my majesty?’ (Daniel 4:30).

The truth, however, was that his importance was all in his head. God proved this fact to him by setting him aside for seven years. Funny how the empire managed to survive and thrive without him.

Imagination in Nebuchadnezzar’s case led him away from the truth that God is sovereign, and he was not.

I’d say imagination is misleading people today. Some professing to be Christians claim they are freeing God from the box of orthodox Christian theology by re-imaging Him — another way of saying they imagine Him to be however they want Him rather than accepting Him the way He revealed Himself. Their imagination leads them away from truth.

It seems to me that all false teaching shares this “imagination over truth” component. Man’s ideas about what a loving God should look like lead universalists to imagine eternity without hell. Man’s imaginings about faith and God’s promises lead Word of Faith believers to invent “revelation knowledge” and “faith-force” that contradicts the sovereignty of God and the authority of the Bible. Man’s inventiveness about the Bible and Christ’s return led Harold Camping disciples to proclaim and follow a foolish and false prophecy.

When it comes to fiction, am I saying that the critics, and especially those criticizing speculative fiction, are right — that we ought not dabble in “lies”?

As forcefully as possible, I want to make clear that fiction is not a form of lying. Lying is an attempt to deceive by passing off that which a person knows to be untrue as if it is true. In contrast, fiction, by the very label on the back of the book or the inclusion of the word “novel” on the cover, declares that the contents within is not a retelling of actual facts about actual people.

On the other hand, while using inventive characters, worlds, events, it seems to me an author of fiction is constrained to tell the truth. Not All Truth — which story could ever accomplish such a goal? But in the realm of ideas that the author communicates to his reader through his story, those ideas should be true.

And here is the point that separates Christian fiction, I believe, from all other fiction. Christian fiction speaks the truth about God. Other fiction can speak the truth about morals or the way the world works or what makes a person love or hate or live on the edge. Other fiction might be silent about God. Other fiction might speak a lie (though undoubtedly the author believes that what he’s written is true) about any of these things. Only Christian fiction speaks the truth about God.

Not the whole truth, though. Christian fiction doesn’t need to — can’t, even — show all that God has revealed about Himself. But whenever the work addresses God, it must do so truthfully.

In the end, then, I don’t think imagination and truth are intrinsically contradictory. Rather, I believe imagination should lead to the truth.

What do you think?

It’s alive. And it came to me yesterday via the post, one of three books. But when I set this one flat on my desk, I can watch from the side and see a little bubble between pages, flow from page to page, like a living thing … silently relaying to the next white line. Yes, the new Annotated Firebird, by Kathy Tyers and re-edited for Marcher Lord Press, is that thick.

So far I’ve only read the Firebird series once — and yes, it will be a series, starting next year, when Tyers expands beyond her original trilogy with Wind and Shadow (expected late 2011) and Daystar (2012). I look forward to delving into it again, with the new volume. Yet already I’ve begun reading through many of Tyers’ notes and details about her authorial thought processes. Early in the first novel, one of those notes entails the definition of space opera …

Here’s a footnote from my thesis paper regarding the term “space opera,” written in the exotic language of academia:

The term was coined by SF author Bob “Wilson” Tucker in 1941, who was comparing bigger-than-life, action-adventure science fiction with “horse opera,” the U.S. Western, and television “soap opera.” Bob Tucker, “Le Zombie” newsletter no. 36, January, 1941, 1. Photographic simile posted at http://www.midamericon.org/tucker/lez36i.htm (accessed May 5, 2008). The term has gained a measure of respectability; “SciFi” (pronounced “skiffy” by some SF publishing professionals) is now the more derogatory term.

[Hyperlink added to original.]

This reminded me of something Tyers said in preparation for last month’s interview, which she gave me permission to relay to our audience. It began when I referred to Firebird as “sci-fi,” and she explained something I hadn’t considered — and which you might not have either.

I avoid the term “sci-fi,” and let me tell you why, in case you might want to drop it too.

I was told years ago, by a secular editor at a science fiction convention (and this has been confirmed by my experience within SFWA), that among serious professional writers, “sci-fi” is often scornfully pronounced (or even written) “skiffy,” and that for these serious folks, the term refers to substandard fiction like some of the stories that were published during the 1950s, often featuring helpless but voluptuous female laboratory assistants, bug-eyed human-eating monsters, and really bad science.

It was suggested that if I wanted to be taken seriously as a new professional in this field, I wouldn’t use that term at all, ever, amen. Obviously, that advice stuck with me.

I don’t know whether the advice is absolutely current – certainly there’s a TV network that uses it now – and there are lots of enthusiastic fans who either don’t want to take the time to say “science fiction” or else use the term hoping to sound like insiders. Still, “SF” is the more professional term, meaning “speculative fiction” and referring to both science fiction and fantasy. I don’t think anyone will ever notice if you don’t write or say “sci-fi,” but there is that super-serious contingent who will notice (and drop your credibility) if you do.

So as a favor to my friends, I try to let them know quietly, when an opportunity arises (as in your first question below). I don’t think it does any harm to avoid the term. It seems sad that we have to be politically correct among our fellow fans. Then again, we’re communication professionals.

[Only paragraph breaks added.]

So what have you seen in the industry so far?

Is sci-fi or skiffy viewed as a more-cornball pulp genre, whose covers feature men wearing biceps and spacesuits, women wearing little, and horrifying invader robots wearing women?

Or have perceptions of the sci-fi term been changing?

This morning, before my wife left for work, I caught sight of two books in the car’s backseat: the Bible, and Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, which she finished re-reading.

Naturally this pairing made me smile. Though we don’t enjoy Harry Potter books or the Bible (and we hope the Bible more!) only because some supposed villain out there can’t stand either book, it did occur to me that someone might think this odd, even blasphemous.

Similar reactions might result from this column, and last week’s part 1, which suggest: God’s truths can be echoed even in a movie whose lead character was inspired by a pagan “god.”

Yes, Thor is originally the “god of thunder” from Norse mythology, but in the Marvel film Thor he’s shown only as a mighty immortal hero from an alternate planet/dimension. Either way, enjoying this film isn’t automatically idolatry. (If you think it is, then you and those who ask online questions like Do you own movies in which people take God’s name in vain? should be consistent and get off the internet, which other people use for actual blasphemy!)

Rather, I enjoyed Thor’s storytelling, amazing acting and excellent effects because of seven echoes that reminded me of God’s truth. Here are the last four, and mostly spoiler-free.

4. Christ-and-his-Church-echoing romance

Before Thor is banished to Earth for his arrogance (anyone familiar with the movie’s trailers or summaries knows this already), he is still shown as a character audiences cheer for, even while seeing his sins. The film’s writers, producers and actors captured this balance very well — Thor is neither the clichéd Bad Boy, nor the stereotypical Angsty Hero who must See the Good He Truly Possesses Inside and simply get in touch with that to save the world.

No, Thor must learn from others, even those whom he might consider inferior to himself. And it’s clear to see that he does think of the humans he meets in this way, while at the same time not acting disgusted with them  or rude. Rather he’s humble and noble toward them, at least on the surface, even before his true humbling begins. Again, the story is well-balanced.

And of course, among those mortals is a woman named Jane, who becomes his love interest. The film doesn’t emphasize the mush, but it’s there nonetheless, and more powerful because it’s subtle. Thor is kind and chivalrous. He kisses a lady’s hand and makes her blush, even in the 21st century. He promises to return to her, and means it; he’s clearly but subtly shown as a strong servant. This is classic stuff, and even better, Biblical (Eph. 5: 22-33). Christian men’s groups that want to do more than pancake breakfasts would enjoy seeing this film!

I’ve read no criticism saying Ugh, that was really bland; a slick prolonged sex scene would have been more realistic. So the story didn’t need immoral crap to work.

Also, the story manages to do all that while also including the character of an Asgardian warrior, Sif, a woman, who doesn’t behave like the typical impractically and scantily clad, Anything Men Can Do I Can Do Better Battle Vixen™.

5. Myths that prove true

Thor: “Your ancestors called it magic, but you call it science. I come from a place where they are one and the same.”

Partway through the film, when the scientist team that encountered Thor are coming to grips with who he is, Dr. Erik Selvig, mentor to Jane — though not her father, he acts like it — is skeptical. He’s of Norwegian heritage (you can tell because of the K in his first name), and he says it’s not possible for all those stories he as a child heard about Odin, Thor, and a magic hammer to be true. Really, a rainbow bridge between realities? He even has a storybook with an illustration of one of the “gods” coming down a literal curved rainbow to the earth.

More open to the possibilities, Jane fires back the oft-repeated quote from author Arthur C. Clarke: “magic is just science we don’t understand.”

While that’s true and makes perfect sense in the film’s story, I think also about some people’s reactions to Biblical accounts. They’re skeptical. But based on a storybook containing cheesy, child-level illustrations of Biblical events or miracles — a five-year-old boy fighting a giant, a yacht-sized Noah’s Ark with giraffes’ necks protruding from windows — and of course it will look absurd and unbelievable. You can’t believe that stuff. All fairy tales and myths.

But why be skeptical based on how people have wrongly or simplistically retold the stories?

Just like the Norse legends about a “god” sliding down a solid rainbow to Earth: what if the deeper reality were true? In the film we find out early there really is a “rainbow bridge,” to the Bifröst, a fantastic magic/machine that’s a combination of warp drive and transporter beam, for travel between worlds. So the rainbow illustration wasn’t wrong, just simplistic.

That’s Thor’s fiction, echoing reality: Scripture’s histories may seem silly when people tell or illustrate them, but let us not endorse people’s skepticisms based on their reactions to that.

6. Fantastic forecasts of New Earth

It’s like heaven, people said, even hardened geeks who may like to act like they’ve seen it all, in reaction to the film’s portrayal of the distant realm of Asgard. It hovers in the clouds … it’s another planet … it’s another dimension, just off the edge of outer space … it was somewhat difficult to tell exactly. But it looked amazing: futuristic, but traditional, a vast garden and city with towering spires shining in the light from a sun you don’t quite see.

Yes, this reminded me of the New Jerusalem, as promised to descend to a remodeled, sin-cleansed New Earth (Rev. 21-22). I wonder if designers were thinking of those old Sunday-school pictures of Heaven. While perhaps wrongly intended to be about some out-there place to live forever instead of this very Earth made new, they still flicker in our minds.

I think we need more of those images. If Christians truly believe in a future New Heavens and New Earth, ruled by the perfect King, then we must tell stories about it.

Thor did, though its writers likely didn’t know it. And its Asgard echoed to me New Earth.

7. Thor’s sacrificial, humble heroes

Finally, the film didn’t fall into a phenomenon for which I’ll make up a name right now: the Star Trek Motion-Picture Incompetent Captains Syndrome. Maybe you know what I mean — the tendency to reduce other captains in Star Trek original-series films, just a little bit, in ability and intelligence, for the purpose of making Captain Kirk stand out more.

But whatever other things the recent Star Trek film (2009) got wrong, that wasn’t one of them. I recall a 2007 interview with one scriptwriter, who said clearly that he wanted to make Trek’s captains in the new film, including the captain of the doomed starship Kelvin, and Kirk’s own father, and Christopher Pike, into strong characters. Why? Kirk needed to have inspirations, he explained; Kirk could be great along with these captains, and grow even more, because of their strengths, not to compensate for their weaknesses.

Oddly enough, Thor actor Chris Hemsworth was in Star Trek as Kirk’s father, who sacrifices himself to save lives. (Beware heavy spoilers.) And so does Thor himself near the end of Thor, when all seems lost, and only self-sacrifice can prevent the deaths of innocents.

Naturally this reminds me of Christ. Any hero who sacrifices himself to save others will do that. It’s part of the all truth is God’s truth that can get into even pagan mythologies.

In this story, of course, Thor sacrifices himself to save those he loves, many of whom have helped him, and who are in his words innocent humans. As a Christian I do love to see this, yet with the subtle reminder: Christ wasn’t only killed by villains, but by God Himself, and crushed (Isaiah 53) in place of His enemies: human rebels guilty of rejecting Him.

Yet later we find Thor also fighting to save his enemies — wicked Frost Giants — from being slain by someone close to him. Now that is something we don’t see in many action films.

What also of King Odin, Thor’s father? One can’t draw many parallels between him and the real God the Father, for sure, but some similarities are there — especially the fact that Odin shows both wrath and love. And it works. We accept this as believable, for a character very like a man. So why, I wonder, is it so hard for many people (even Christians) to believe in a God Who manifests the same seemingly “contradictory” characteristics of love and wrath?

 

So there you are. See Thor, if you haven’t already, and share what you thought. Perhaps you saw many of these truths echoed, or more I didn’t mention. Or perhaps you aren’t sure about something I said and you need to “hammer” out some questions. … Yes. I had to get that in.

Re-GEN-er-ATE!

I had to. I’m sorry. 0=)

So,  my first Doctor Who-themed post talked about a greater power the Time Lords were bound to. The second was my overall take on the first three seasons. I hadn’t watched the last half of season three when I initially wrote that, so I saved four and five for this one (which was originally just for five). I think it works, though.

Okay, here’s my character sketch of the Doctor and his story arc. I cut down some of this because I feel like I’d be recovering old ground to keep it. This is just an off-the-cuff overview of the Doctor’s personal story arc. Yes, I didn’t mention River. She’s for later.

1. In the beginning, the war-weary Doctor is   an angry, broken fellow difficult to please, but  that only adds to his elation when “Everybody lives!” In a weird way,  Rose’s house was home base for him, so losing them is like losing his second family .  Once he regenerates, the newly regenerated Doctor is an odd mix of brash and cocksure mingled in with an apparent real fear his companion won’t like his new self.
2. I’m counting Runaway Bride in this, but after he loses a companion, from here out is a marked difference in tone.  He never fully recovers from the events of season two. Every time he starts to heal internally, something happens. Over and over and over again all the way through season four. At the beginning he’s miserably lonely, and by the end he’s just as alone as he began, with even more losses in his wake.  Worse, he’s shutting off completely, burying his heart in a kind of self-preservation mode.  I think in the end I have to agree the Doctor’s emotional instability sends some mixed messages thematically. The inner turmoil with the Doctor works for me.  I didn’t have a problem with a brash Doctor that lashes out and does crazy things when he gets emotional…and emotional happens a lot in this season. I liked the play on his “human” and “Time Lord” natures–The one thing he wants, he can never have.
3. And after that, it feels like a Shakespearean tragedy.  It’s full of the entire emotional spectrum. One of my favorite moments is when it looks like the Doctor’s going to take revenge and kill the Master…and instead puts his arms around his enemy and forgives him.  Another highlight for me, anyway.  By the end,  the beloved Doctor has come to the end of himself (no puns, please). And he loses everything – again. He loses his third family (Donna’s). He realizes he’s become everything he despises and done things he swore he wouldn’t.  And he falls apart.  “Waters of Mars” is almost a flip  on the Pompeii episode: In the earlier episode, he won’t fight Time; in the later, he tries. And fails–resulting in even worse consequences.  But the best twist about this season was expecting the Doctor to be the redeemer and instead the Doctor is the redeemed.

So, for me it’s been one long arc from angry and beaten (Ninth) to unsettled and wild (Tenth – 1&2) to miserably lonely and angry (Tenth – 3&4)  until he finally hits the bottom and admits to having become something he despises. For a guy who actively wants hope, he’s certainly lost all sense of it by the end.

 

The TARDIS is falling!

My initial impression of the 11th Doctor was total refreshment. It was a deep breath of much needed air. Don’t get me wrong. I liked the 10th. But by the end it’s his whole being, body and soul, that needs regenerating. He can’t breathe, so the viewers can’t.  And the final minute or so of The End of Time picked up on the need, I think.  They could have ended it sooner, with a downtrodden,  hopelessly alone Doctor locking himself in the TARDIS, tossing his coat, and setting a course, facing his last few moments alone, and setting the whole thing on fire.

I’ll admit, I might have. I’m a bit ruthless that way.  But it doesn’t end on the down note. Now that everyone’s in emotional distress, the Doctor finishes his regeneration , gives himself a once-over, and, still disoriented and out of sorts, tries to straighten out a falling TARDIS.

So now we’re not  sad. We’re not sure he’ll pull out of the crash. The end.

 

Season 5

And season five kicks off exactly where four left us. The TARDIS crashes  in front of a house where a little girl named Amelia Pond lives. (I’m saving a breakdown of Amy and Rory for my next post, which covers the companions and their respective relationships to the Doctor.) And, just like his previous regeneration, it takes him awhile to get his bearings.

I really think Beast Below  is my favorite episode of season five. If you were only going to watch one episode of this season, I’d probably pick that one. (The Smilers don’t qualify as ‘monsters,’ btw. They’re…well, they’re the least scary creatures in the DW universe as far as I’m concerned.) It’s an odd moment where everything you need to know about who the Doctor is shows up in one episode.

And maybe, for him, crashing outside a little girl’s house was itself a pinprick of hope. He isn’t alone now; in fact, he winds up with more companions than he knows what to do with. If Ten was lonely, Eleven couldn’t get any privacy if he tried. He’s internalizing a lot more now, for better or worse, and he’s got friends who can see straight through his facade–which I think he secretly likes. It’s got a good mix of light and dark moments, I think, and I appreciate the subtleties of the new storylines.

He’s taken a great deal of focus off himself.   As a friend of mine put it,  the season’s story really about Amy and Rory, not the Doctor. He’s bound and determined to keep them together and get Amy down the aisle with Rory–and without compromising their relationship. Somehow.

My biggest critique, really, with season five (and, really, a little into six as well) is the number of innuendos and “moments” seemed to go up. Part of that’s par for the course given Amy’s nature, I suppose, but by the end it was a bit tiresome.  And I’m pretty sure it’s time to stop with the Rory death scenes.  And to stop making Rory think Amy’s cheating or something.

At any rate, thematically they’re still playing with the same concepts as before, just not quite as directly. Major themes still include:

• Non-violence as a virtue
• Human nature
• Faith/trust/belief in something/one

All of which I suppose I’ll cover next time.

 

I  think if I had to sum up season five, I’d say it’s the restoration of hope, with this weird parallel between the newly regenerated Doctor and the six year old Amy, his need for her to trust him, and his need for newfound hope.  It’s a search, in a way, for both of them.

 

Dr. Stephen Hawking on fairy tales:

I regard the brain as a computer which will stop working when its components fail. There is no heaven or afterlife for broken down computers; that is a fairy story for people afraid of the dark.

C.S. Lewis on fairy tales:

When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.

With the inspiration of these two distinguished British scholars in hand, I offer here a brief fairy tale, which, like all great fairy tales, is even more wonderful because it is true.

A Fairy Story for Those Who Are Afraid of the Dark

Once upon a time…

The earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.

And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light.

The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of deep darkness a light has dawned.

In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.

And he carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high, and showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God. It shone with the glory of God, and its brilliance was like that of a very precious jewel, like a jasper, clear as crystal.

The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp. The nations will walk by its light, and the kings of the earth will bring their splendor into it.

There will be no more night. They will not need the light of a lamp or the light of the sun, for the Lord God will give them light.

…and they lived happily ever after.

Thor, a movie based on Greek mythology, has released to good reviews, and the buzz is spreading, but last night I saw my first advertisement for the final Harry Potter movie due out in July.

Apparently these two are merely the dorsal fin breaking the waterline when it comes to speculative movies that will air this summer. One writer claims that one or more speculative movies will release almost every weekend — whether about Greek gods, superheroes, mutants, alien invasions, barbarians, vampires, zombies, evil mermaids, robots, boy wizards, magic or the cosmic. Titles include Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides; X-Men: First Class; Green Lantern; Transformers: Dark of the Moon; Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 2; Another Earth; Cowboys & Aliens; The Future; and many more (click here to view trailers for these movies).

Apparently movies don’t have a corner on the speculative market this year. Examiner.com reports that in the fall, all TV networks are “actually catering to the sci fi and fantasy viewer by showing some interesting shows…” Some of the new titles include NBC’s Grimm and Fox’s Terra Nova.

I have several thoughts about this apparent burst of speculative stories. First, I suspect the technological advances that make it possible for movie makers to render the fantastic in a realistic way explain in part the increased number of speculative films.

In addition, I believe our postmodern culture is more open to the fantastic — whether spiritual, magical, futuristic, or alien — whereas the rationalism of the modern era discouraged such “flights of fancy.”

Supernatural stories on the little or big screen undoubtedly bode well for books. The two media seem inter-dependent. Some of the movies were born from previous print sources (books or comic books), and these movies, in turn, will foster new works of a similar kind.

The question is, where will the Christian writer fit into this explosion?

Some Christian publishers such as AMG and Zonderkidz seem to be embracing the speculative genre and are adding writers. Some authors who haven’t found a home in the Christian side of the publishing world or who wish to write for a wider audience are turning to general market houses as R. J. Anderson did. Others are seeking publication with small, independent publishers such as Marcher Lord Press and Splashdown Books. Still others are looking to self-publish, either through one of the established companies such as WinePress Publishing, through Amazon, or through one of the new self-publishing imprints traditional publishers have introduced.

Clearly, Christian speculative literature is keeping pace with the culture, though the Wild Wild West which the book industry has become makes it difficult to know how readers will actually find the books they long to read.

Perhaps a service like the Christian Science Fiction and Fantasy Blog Tour or a community like Speculative Faith will serve as the new “gatekeepers” to let readers know what good books are out there.

What do you think? Right now, how do you find the books you read? Are you open to ebooks as much as to print books? To books by authors you’ve never heard of as much as to ones by authors who have a publishing history?

Do you rely on the opinion of a collection of readers and writers to make your book selections? For example, do you look at reviews at places like Goodreads or Amazon to help you decide which books to buy?

In your opinion, what’s the best way for readers to find the books they would love? Looking forward to your ideas.

To quote from the classic novel, A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens, “It was the best of times. It was the worst of times…” This in large part has been my experience with the topsy-turvy, take no prisoners world of publishing. Like many aspiring writers, we have fantasized over the years the singular dream of becoming a published author. We have imagined walking into bookstores to see our book proudly sitting on the shelf, or long lines of eager fans waiting their turn to have us autograph our novels clutched in their eager hands, hoping to spend a few cherished moments with one of their favorite authors, or going on talk shows to share pearls of literary wisdom in front of an enthusiastic audience. But like most dreams, the reality has not quite lived up to the fantasy.

How many of us have toiled in front of our computers for weeks, months, or years on end, honing our work, polishing it to a high sheen, hoping our story grabs the attention of an acquisition editor. After receiving one rejection after another, in the mail comes THAT letter, the one that says The Really Smart Publishing House loved your work, and wants to publish it.

I’ve had the privilege of getting that letter. And when it did happen, I felt like I was on top of the world. A publisher actually wanted to publish my novel. But after the euphoria fades, and the hard work of getting your novel ready for print sets in, a new reality begins to blossom—the inevitable publishing setbacks. This is the part most writers never think about when they envision what it’s like to be a published author.

It’s easy to see in our heads excited readers turning the pages of our tomes, sinking their teeth into the twists and turns of the story, ruminating on the nuances of our characters. What we never expect is that the cover art for your book looks horrendous, and you have little say in the matter, or that the book distributor the publisher is working with has gone out of business, which means your book is put on hold until they sign with a new distributor. In my case, I had to wait fourteen months before my novel was released as a result of that unforeseen disaster. Or the editor hasn’t finished with the story yet, and because he missed the publishing window assigned you, the release date for your book gets pushed back six months. And when the novel is finally released, the publisher does next to nothing to help you promote it. It’s as though they’re saying, “We’ve done our part. Now it’s time to do yours. So go out and sell your book.” This then begs the question—Is is worth it?

The only way I can answer this most important of questions is it depends on what day you ask me. In some cases, it even comes down to what time of day you ask. There are times after a long stint on the computer that I’m all out of words, what I’ve written is no good, and it probably won’t get published anyway. In those times of despair, I want nothing more to do with writing, except to just walk away and not formulate another word in my head. At that moment, my answer is an emphatic, “NO. All this work for little reward is definitely not worth it.”

However, after a much needed night of sleep, I wake up feeling a whole lot different. My mind has been recharged, story ideas are flowing again, and when I re-read the previous day’s work, I usually find it’s much better than I initially thought. Changes are undoubtedly needed here and there, but there is almost always something promising to work with. It’s at this point I start to get excited about the story again, and have a renewed desire to finish it. And not only finish it, but finish it well. Ask me the same question at that moment, and my response is an enthusiastic, “YES, it is definitely worth it.”

Like other authors who go through the same type of emotional roller coaster ride, the weeks and months it takes to finish your work is filled with plentiful No/Yes moments along the way. But you plow through those valleys of despair, and eventually finish your novel. If you’re one of the fortunate few, you find a publishing house that wants to publish your novel. The next stops in your literary journey are spending several months addressing the story elements the publisher wants fixed, figuring out what the cover is going to look like, writing the back of the book blurb, acquiring book endorsements, and developing a marketing strategy. Then that glorious day finally arrives. Your book is officially released.

If you’re lucky, your publisher will help you with the promotion, but most of it rests on your shoulders. It is you that goes to the local book stores in the hopes of setting up a book signing, usually with mixed results. You’re the one that contacts books clubs, libraries, local newspapers, radio stations, online blog sites, book reviewers, all in the hopes of finding those few who are interested in promoting your work. Then there’s creating your book website, getting book reviews, setting up a publishing party, signing up for shows and conventions, again, all on your shoulders. And after months of almost non-stop promoting, you will probably have a few hundred sales to show for your efforts, often times, not even that.

I don’t intend to paint a grim picture, but this is the typical life for first-time authors, and second time, and third time, etc. It’s a lot of hard work, and you often don’t have much to show for your efforts.

Is it worth it? That depends on why you write. If it’s to hit it big and be a New York Times bestselling author, chances are that’s not going to happen. Is it to make enough money so you can quit your day job and spend your waking hours creating one masterpiece after the other, again, that’s not a likely future for you. If, however, you write novels because you’re a story teller at heart, and you want to share them with others so they can be taken along on a wonderful journey, then you have a very good chance of fulfilling that dream. And if that truly is your dream, then I say yes, it’s definitely worth it.

– – –

Mike Lynch is constantly awed by the wonder of God’s creation, which has led to his interests in theology, astronomy, history, politics, and films, eventually turning his attention to writing. He published his first (non-fiction) book, Dublin, in 2007. His first novel, When The Sky Fell, co-authored with Brandon Barr, was published two years later, followed by two other books they’ve written together, American Midnight and After The Cross (to learn more, visit Ellechor Publishing House). His latest novel, The Crystal Portal, co-authored by Travis Perry, was released in 2011. Mike graduated from San Jose State with a degree in history, and from San Jose Bible College with a degree in Bible and theology. He lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with his wife and two children. Visit Mike at his web site.

This time of year some people (especially around here) go insane over things like horse races or pro basketball, or other stuff that doesn’t naturally appeal to me. Naturally, then, in low moments I like to think I’m more Godly than those who obsess over such frivolities …

So instead I obsess over the best superhero films. Among those is the most recent, about the Norse “god” of thunder turned Marvel comics warrior. Just last Thursday I re-viewed the second Thor trailer and thought, Huh, I wonder when that comes out. Then I saw that date was tomorrow, and after reading a couple reviews, began to geek out.

Now after seeing the film with m’lady, I can confirm the positive reviews are true, including the ones from websites (example) that say this “pagan” film about a “god” hero actually has surprising God-exalting themes. And without them, the story wouldn’t be as great.

Oh yes. I’ll explore a few in these two columns, following these brief disclaimers:

• I’m not saying the filmmakers meant to put in these Analogies. As one of the patron saints of Christian visionary fiction, C.S. Lewis, often said (paraphrasing): truth may be echoed, often by accident, in the pagan stories of the world — including ancient Norse mythology, popular hero comics, and mixtures of both such as Thor.
• Yes, the Bible is the only sure source of God’s truth (the parts He wants us to know). Yet other stories may appeal to Christians or others because they echo the greatest Story. The very idea of a sacrificial savior beating evil reminds us of Christ.
• It took an almost heroic effort, to avoid using a hammer pun in this column’s title (‘Thor’ hammers home Biblical truth, Hammering out myths about ‘Thor,’ etc. …)

1. A Bifröst bridge between classic and popular

Many critics are crediting Thor director Kenneth Branagh with finding balance between “magic” and realism, epic and intimate, and classic storytelling and comic-book thrills.

I think this praise is warranted, and it fits with what I know of Branagh. Yes, he has directed classic Shakespeare plays and acted in them himself, yes he has also played famous pop-star wizard and fangirl magnet Gilderoy Lockhart in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets.

This reminds me that one need not choose between popular storytelling and classic writing that could become more timeless. Every once in a while we get a film or a novel that is both. And that very blend reminds me of Scripture itself, and its brazen presentation as a Book that is both understandable, for every person, and complex, for those who wish to delve deeper. And perhaps this ambitious hybrid should appeal to more fiction writers.

2. Not a ‘god,’ so not automatic idolatry

I know little about the original Marvel comics hero, except that originally the Norse god Thor manifested in a human “host” character. The film does away with that idea (though it does apparently reference that character’s name when an alias is necessary for Thor). And it very clearly shows and even states that King Odin, Thor and Loki, while powerful and immortal, are not gods. They are vulnerable to injury, arrogance and evil, and were only perceived as gods by the Norse long ago because of their advanced culture and science-based “magic.”

However, at least one promotional poster does refer to Thor: The God Of Thunder. That has prompted at least one hasty response from a Christian who likely means well but also doesn’t get it, followed by cackles from those who likely don’t get Christians.

But my enjoying a movie, whose lead character and story elements appear similar to the objects of someone else’s sins, doesn’t make me guilty of the same sins. Sure, I might come away from the film wishing Thor were real, or the fantastic realm of Asgard truly existed, and want nothing to do with the actual God or the actual New Earth those things (to me) echoed. It’s just as easy, however, to identify idolatry only as worshiping a god by name. I also might make idols out of supposed “discernment,” or moral values, or any good thing.

Sure, the true God doesn’t exist in the movie’s storyline. But if it’s a sin to enjoy a story that does not directly mention God, or whose world contradicts reality by leaving Him out, then we might want to get rid of all fairy tales, secular morality fables, maybe even VeggieTales DVDs (advocating a veggie god?), and even many parables and metaphors of Christ.

3. This fantasy world isn’t royalty-free

This next contains a slight spoiler: When Loki, Thor’s scheming, prankster brother (the Norse god of mirth), ends up on the throne of Asgard, four noble warriors approach him, in search of King Odin. They want Loki to rescind Odin’s banishment of the prideful Thor to Earth. Loki informs them that Odin is, well, legitimately absent, leaving the throne to Loki.

And the warriors aren’t instantly rebellious. They’re confused, of course, and disappointed, but regardless they bow before the throne and carefully place their fists on their chests.

Later my wife remarked that this was surprising because it was so traditional. A lesser film would have skipped straight to the subversive stuff. But Thor’s screenwriters, actors and producers seemed to grasp what so many movies miss: without that tradition, without that portrayal of respect even for misguided royal authority, the story would suffer. Its world would not be nearly as fantastic, and wouldn’t tap into that secret desire — even libertarian Americans may harbor it — for a truly good king, whom we want to follow, love and obey.

This is what I dislike even in the first two Chronicles of Narnia films, and much more so in the woeful Dawn Treader: too much idiotic subversion against the institutions of good kings and nobility.

Yes, I’m a patriot and can (easily, in retrospect) support the War for Independence. Yes, I prefer representative democracy to pure monarchy. Often kings should be overthrown. Yet like Christians should, I want to long for that good King, ruling on a New Earth with perfect justice and love. And though Thor’s heroes have their flaws, ultimately their goodness and humility, even while ruling their fantastic world with strength, can remind us of that.

Seen Thor yet? If not, is it the superhero story or other themes that don’t interest you? Any change of mind after reading this? And if you did see it, what did you enjoy — including any of the elements I mentioned?

Next week: romance, myths and a sacrificial hero. Continued in Thunders of ‘Thor’ Echo Biblical Truths, part 2.