I’m not even sure I could have told you the theme of my first series, “The Staff and the Sword,” even after the last book came out. But I can tell you that I started the first book, A Cast of Stones, and set it aside for three years because I didn’t have a theme.

I could have told you the plot: Orphan kid makes good by the grace of God.

I could have told you the inspiration: I wanted to write an epic fantasy that was an allegory for the life of Christ using an earthly model of the trinity. (Yes, I really did mean to do this.)

I could even have told you, in my more transparent moments, that I never expected A Cast of Stones to get published because I wrote it as an exercise inspired by the “Harry Potter” series. I wanted to see if I could write an entire novel in an epic fantasy from the viewpoint of a single character. You have no idea how badly I wanted to introduce a second point of view character during the first draft, but I knew the discipline I’d have to cultivate by telling the story from only one point of view would stand me in good stead.

I did all of this and more. There are layers of symbolism built into The Staff and the Sword series that most people will never consciously realize are in the story. I say consciously, because I believe that that art of story works on more than just the conscious level. I trust and hope that the symbolism I wove into the fabric of the story will tug at readers’ hearts so that they will come back to it over and again, even if they’re not sure why.

I spent hours searching for the right mix of names to go with carefully crafted personalities and extensive backstories so that I could write about my characters as if they’d been personal friends for most of my life. And like a lot of writers, I worked some scenes over and over, trying to find just the right words to convey the tone

But theme?

What?

It wasn’t until later that I realized I had been writing the story from a central theme all along. When I first joined a writers’ group here in Nashville about seven years ago, one of the craft books that was recommended to me was Stein on Writing. I bought a copy and quickly read it from cover to cover, though not in chapter order. Many chapters were so instructive that I would immediately re-read them with a highlighter in hand to mark the best spots.

One chapter that struck me was quite short, no more than four or five pages perhaps, but it described a technique that Stein referred to as “the secret snapshot” where he asks writers to picture a snapshot of their deepest secret. Understandably, I was discomfited, as many of you might be, and this was in the privacy of my own home without an audience.

But the more I thought about that chapter, the more the truth of it and its transparency struck me. The fallen human condition means that most of us, if not all of us, have certain incidents in our past, be they thoughts or actions, that we hope never see exposure to the light of day. Yet, they will. Our faith tells us they will.

It was when I realized this that A Cast of Stones, a novel that I had shelved years previously because I just couldn’t get the story to come alive, finally found its groove. I took a post-it note or a sheet of paper, I can’t remember which at this point, and I wrote on it:

Everyone has secrets

And I kept that note in front of me for the entire series. When characterization and plot started to flag and I couldn’t bring life to the characters as they came into the scene, I would look at that note and I would ask myself the following questions:

“What are they hiding?”

“What secret are they desperate to keep secret?”

Voila! I had a theme without even knowing that’s what it was, but that idea permeates every major and minor character within A Cast of Stones and its sequels. When it came time to set aside that world and craft a new one, I instinctively knew where I needed to begin. I’d already decided that I would have another deeply flawed hero, this time on the inside rather than the outside. But I needed more. I’d learned that my theme was the glue that held my story world together and gave it resonance with the reader.

So I began the search. But what to use? I mean, I really liked my previous theme. I liked it so much that I wanted to use it again, yet within that desire lay a trap. I risked writing the very same story. I’m not saying it would have been bad. There have been writers I have loved who really only had one story they wanted to tell and they made a lot of money telling it over and over again.

But I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to write something different. So I hit upon a different theme for my series and its first episode, The Shock of Night.

“Minds are broken”

As it turned out, this new theme allowed me to work into my story a cast of characters I’d been trying to use for a while. My experience as a teacher has brought me into contact with wonderful students and parents, many of whom are gifted with minds that don’t perceive the world in the same way most people would classify as “normal.” My theme gave me the creative push to not only give these characters a voice, but to make them heroes as well.

With one novella, two novels, and a work-in-progress on the ground, I can say with satisfaction that my theme is doing its job. It’s giving me the creative focus to bring my story together.

Recently a Facebook friend shared an example of Christian white magic in the real world.

You’ll never guess what magic book it was.

His family owned a “book of magic,” a fantasy novel. That wasn’t the dangerous magic. Instead, someone he knew became alarmed at the book. She effectively cast a spell against his family. She removed herself from their contaminated space and created a magic circle.

This phrasing is only mild hyperbole. But unfortunately, this is what many Christians do. We believe in magic, and even practice types of spells, all in an attempt to avoid bad magic.

Such spell-casting isn’t based only on fear of objects. If so, then if Christian 1 fears Christian 2 has an evil object, Christian 1 could ask Christian 2 about it. No—Christian 1 usually fears not just the object. He fears Christian 2 personally. So he doesn’t ask about the object. He doesn’t reason with the Christian who owns it. He just casts a “spell” and leaves fast.¹

Deuteronomy 18:9-14 is usually cited to prove fantasy magic is evil. Instead, God directly warns God’s people to avoid the actual practice of divination and sorcery, in an attempt to protect ourselves from harm—that is, dark spiritual influence—or to divine the future:

“When you come into the land that the LORD your God is giving you, you shall not learn to follow the abominable practices of those nations. There shall not be found among you anyone who burns his son or his daughter as an offering, anyone who practices divination or tells fortunes or interprets omens, or a sorcerer or a charmer or a medium or a necromancer or one who inquires of the dead, for whoever does these things is an abomination to the LORD. And because of these abominations the LORD your God is driving them out before you. You shall be blameless before the LORD your God, for these nations, which you are about to dispossess, listen to fortune-tellers and to diviners. But as for you, the LORD your God has not allowed you to do this.”²

Moses, speaking for God, goes on to say, “The LORD your God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among you, from your brothers—it is to him [and not to the evil occult practices] you shall listen …”³ The point of this passage is not to point to “good” magic to defeat the evil magic. God points away from all personal occult practices. He is pointing to the coming Final Prophet who speaks for God—Jesus!

But Christians may forget about the Final Prophet and get distracted by pretend “dark magic” such as found in books and stories. So what kinds of actual spells do we often cast?

1. ‘Health and wealth’ prosperity spells

Of the many magic spells Christians try to cast, this one is probably the worst. It’s also the most developed magic system among professing Christians. Here’s a basic overview of it:

1. God promises his children can get what they want with prayer and belief. (Source: personal anecdotes, spiritual talk, and Bible verses ripped screaming from context.)
2. What a “king’s kid” should want is health and material wealth, all for God, of course. (Source: uniquely American and western notions of what counts as success.)
3. So give to prosperity ministries to guarantee results. (Source: prosperity ministries.)

This is unadulterated magic. Its spellbooks have smiling faces on the covers. Its classes  are taught by charismatic TV personalities. Its consequences are dismal—thousands of people may think they are following real Christianity, but are enslaved to their own “faith” magic.

John Piper, in one of a few famous video versions, can say the rest so I don’t need to say it.

2. Magic circles, symbols, and verse spells

A recent Babylon Bee satirical article spoofed the evangelical “magic circle” approach:

According to Family Christian, the Bubble™ is “a huge step forward in Christian protective technology” and is constructed of a “revolutionary” poly material that, while completely sealing the child from the outer environment, allows the child to breathe unhindered while the intelligent processor embedded in the skin of the Bubble™ works continuously to identify and block any visual or auditory stimuli its advanced algorithms translate as “secular.”⁴

Such a product like this might be nice, because then you could say it’s based on advanced science. But of course, advanced technology is often indistinguishable from magic. So some evangelicals try the equivalent of magic spells designed to purify people or even geographic spaces. We drift into believing that wholesome reading material, crosses, decorations, or even citations of Scripture can render ourselves, or the places in which we live, “clean.”

God gave Gideon advance assurance of His will via the fleece (Judges 6: 36-40). But did He tell others to seek the same?

3. Personal guidance divination spells

All biblical Christians should believe the Holy Spirit is active in our daily lives. However, good Christians disagree on exactly how the Spirit directs our steps. Some Christians, often without intention, drift into assumptions that the Holy Spirit “whispers” to us or guides our choices in some hidden way, if only we would take the time and practice to listen to him.

In extreme cases, Christians fall into practicing a kind of “magic” in which they expect the Holy Spirit to communicate in feelings and external signs. But if we do this, are we not expecting the exact same kinds of divination “signs” that God disfavors in Deut. 18?

Scripture does not record the apostles receiving this kind of direct guidance for daily life decisions. Even if the Bible did say this, it does not teach or even imply that non-apostle believers can expect the same. The Bible is clear that all true Christians are Spirit-filled. In Romans 8: 9-11, the apostle Paul outlines a binary: either you are “in the flesh” or you are “in the Spirit … who dwells in you.” He leaves no category of Christians who are saved but not Spirit-powered.⁵

4. Sorcerous ‘spiritual warfare’ spells

This next quote isn’t from Constantine (the DC paranormal detective, not the emperor). Instead it’s from a Christian author of “spiritual warfare” training materials:

When I rent a room in a hotel, it is under my stewardship. I have no idea what occurred in that room before I rent it, so I renounce any previous use of the room that would not please my heavenly Father….Next, I commit the room and all that is in it to the Lord and command Satan and all his evil workers to leave the room in the name and by the authority of the Lord Jesus Christ. Finally, I ask for the Lord’s protection while I sleep.⁶

As Elliot Miller notes, “If [author Neil] Anderson cannot even stay in a hotel room without taking such magical and paranoid precautions, how much more superstitious can we expect his less mature and less stable followers to be?”⁷

This may be an extreme example. But many Christians have this image in the back of their mind. Once I did too: it’s the notion that we must perform certain prayers or rituals—magic spells—to cleanse a space of demons or Satanic influence.

Often I wonder if this notion is still around. After all, don’t most Christians commit the opposite error by failing to take Satan seriously? But then I saw this exact sort of anti-Satan magic performed in the recent Christian-made and –marketed movie War Room. Here, a woman “prays up” a miracle to keep her husband from cheating. Then she quite literally prays to the devil, ordering him to leave her family and her house because it’s “under new management.”⁸ That’s an especially bad example of “spiritual warfare” spell-casting.

5. Romance prosperity gospel spells

This is a particular favorite of mine, partly because I used to believe this way myself:

In a second TV program, a young couple takes a church stage. “Once upon a time, we wanted to write our own love story,” they say. “Now we know that only after we give ourselves to God, and let Him have control over our love lives, will He write you the most beautiful love story ever. And if you maintain not only biblical holiness but your ‘emotional purity’ — not even investing feelings before you know for sure this is that special person — God will clearly reveal who that person is and guide your actions.” […]

All of these are specific promises that God’s Word never gives.⁹

Evangelicals should burn our magic books that promise perfect or near-perfect relationship results if only (the magic words!) they would submit themselves to God and pray their way to a divine marriage. Perhaps because I’m in better “circles,” I no longer often hear these notions. But as this evangelical movie clip shows, these ideas are still around.

6. ‘If only’: prayer and program spells

For years Christians were told LGBT activists would enforce their new “moral majority” only in public and wouldn’t chase Christians into churches. Suddenly we’re hearing, in articles like this one, that LGBT activists do take their religion seriously. So in fact they will be chasing Christians into churches to punish this new sin. ¹⁰

In response, many Christians promote spells that start with the magic words if only, as in:

1. If only Christians hadn’t compromised with worldly entertainment …
2. If only Christians had not hidden from the culture and been better missionaries …
3. If only Christians hadn’t only ever emphasized sexual sin (hint: that is not true) …
4. If only Christians hadn’t blurred the lines between gospel ministry and politics …
5. If only Christians would have prayed and followed the right programs …

… Then we wouldn’t today be losing our cultures to enemies of Christianity.

Sure, there’s a little truth here. Christians could have done better at many of these things. But we risk thinking like occult magicians if we assume yet another magical system like the prosperity gospel: that if only we said the right prayers, or followed the right program, then such-and-such negative consequences would not happen to us.

Conclusion

The fact is, God never establishes a magic system.

God never promised us that if we do X, we’ll achieve some reward—health or wealth, protection from evil influence, personal guidance, romance, or popularity in the world.

Instead He promises something better: Himself, with grace to meet every challenge.

What if we reject His real promises and substitute our own? What if we blame other things as if they are the worst sources of occult magic—things like fantasy stories? Then we’re not being spiritual or biblical. We’re acting like practitioners of the occult. Dare I say it, we’re acting like the diviners and sorcerers God has promised will not inherit eternal life.

Thank God that Jesus, the Final Prophet, can save repentant spell-casters like us!

Note: Read the followup to this article, Christian White Magic: Q and A, part 1.

The Spec Faith 2016 Summer Writing Challenge is now closed to new entries. We received a good number of interesting and entertaining stories, some coming in over the weekend.

We want those “last minute” entries to have a fair shot at moving on to the finals, so please take time to read and give your feedback to those stories as well. Remember, to indicate which you like best (no limit), reply to the entries and give a thumbs up. Also, feel free to tell the authors what you like about their story or give them constructive criticism which might benefit them (whether you choose to give a thumbs up or not).

Then next week we’ll announce the three finalists, and we’ll vote for a winner.

The drawback of a readers’ choice challenge is that it might turn into a popularity contest. On the other hand, we need reader feedback for the challenge to be successful. With both these facts in mind, I think the best answer is for Spec Faith visitors to connect with family, friends, and followers (our share buttons make this quite easy) and encourage their fair and unbiased feedback (as opposed to, “Vote for mine—you don’t really need to read any of the entries,” which I’ve seen from some other contests).

Thanks ahead of time for letting others know that we need their feedback.

And special thanks to each of the authors who shared their work with us. We have a selection of wonderful entries to choose from. What a nice predicament! To find the entries, follow one of the links in this article (such as this one). The entries are in the comments section of that post. Be sure to click on the “Explore More” button to see all of them.

Speculative Faith exists to explore epic, fantastical stories for God’s glory. This means we want to see more Christian speculative stories¹ that exalt God through their excellent craft and content.

Perhaps you do not share this goal. Perhaps you’ve recently arrived here from the Mirror Universe, in which fantasy, science fiction, and supernatural/horror novels dominate Christian-owned publishing, but you would prefer more Amish and romance stories.²

In that case, here are seven ways you can keep Christian speculative genres from growing.

1. Only explore the ‘why’ of these genres

Many SpecFaith articles provide an “apologetics” approach for why Christians can enjoy, explore, and create science fiction, fantasy, and supernatural/horror fiction.

Now, let’s only do that for this generation and beyond. Only rehash the basics of this “gospel” as a mere protest against the “sin” of not appreciating these genres. Never go further, into assuming readers agree with these things so we can explore deeper matters.

2. Never explore the ‘why’ of these genres

On the other hand, we can also assume that the wide majority of readers already agree we need to have Christians plowing the fantastical fiction fields. Let’s never discuss the why, that is, the reasons Christians should enjoy these genres. Using God’s word to ensure we’re convinced in our own minds about what we do³ is overrated anyway.

Also, you can ignore the approach of books like this one. Instead, pretend Christians have always been okay with horror.

3. Avoid the fictional magic issue

Last week I started a Do You Believe Christians Can Enjoy Fictional Magic? question and poll (which is ongoing). Most readers answered yes, they do believe Christians can enjoy magic in stories, though they offered different reasons. Fewer readers answered no, also for different reasons. But one poll response sandwiched in between got my attention:

I find this whole “fictional magic” debate strange or unnecessary.

Indeed this may seem a strange debate. But if we want to keep Christian fantasy from growing as a genre, we’ll make sure to avoid that debate entirely. We’ll act like all those news-making “Halloween and Harry Potter are evil” controversies never happened. That way, we can make sure our anti-magic Christian neighbors believe we’re falling into real evils, and also make sure our non-Christian neighbors think we’re trying to cover something up.

4. Only encourage excellent content or craft

A weak movement for Christian-made speculative stories has room only for either:

1. Fandoms, groups, and websites that push for speculative stories with better craft.

Example A: We could only explore ways to include realistic content in stories, partly so Christianity critics are impressed, such as bad words, violence, and sexual situations.⁴ On the way, we might ignore some Christian authors’ inability to, say, add curse words to fiction in a realistic manner, because that is not our native language.

Example B: We could discuss writerly jargon, marketing, and other industry procedures that are helpful only to aspiring authors—thereby making the niche even niche-ier.

2. Fandoms, etc., that push for speculative stories with better content, e.g. truth themes.

Example A: Instead of saying “Christian stories should implicitly acknowledge biblical truths about God’s nature on the way to the actual story, which is about flawed human beings,” we should insist that humans in stories become carriers to advance a particular doctrine or Bible study topic. (See many evangelical inspirational movies, such as this one.)

Example B: Or, like some critics of good biblical-history movies, be annoyed that a movie featuring Jesus does not explore everything doctrinal about him and his nature and gospel.

5. Imitate the DC vs. Marvel fandom fight

Another good way to keep Christian fantasy fandom from growing is this: help our fandoms imitate the Marvel vs. DC fan fights in geek-culture websites and comments sections.

Example A: If great Christian-made stories fail, possibly because of marketing missteps or just bad timing, you could lament about how C.S. Lewis and Tolkien never had this problem, or that it’s surely because the story is poorly made (like all Christian-made stories are).

Example B: Get behind one author, publisher, or approach to storytelling or publishing. Be a partisan for that author/publisher/approach. Condemn others who try different things, maybe because they’re too dark, too light, or only meant for particular readers (see below).

6. Only support Christian-published or crossover market stories

If you want to hinder the growth of Christian-made fantastical fiction, it would be great to take a side in a Christian Publishing Is Better versus Crossover Publishing is Better debate.

On either side, you can call the other side a [select one: compromiser / legalist].

On either side, you can call the other side a sellout because they would rather [select one: impress non-Christians than follow holiness / follow traditions than engage the world].

And on either side, you can say the other side limits the genre’s growth because [select one: they only market to nonbelievers who hate Christians and would never change / they only market to Christians who hate fantastical stories and would never change].

Above all, this strategy is an excellent way to keep Christians from uniting not only under their love for Jesus, but their love for fantastical stories that honor him and gift each other.

7. Neglect an eternal perspective

In all this, let’s make sure to neglect two truths. The first truth is absolutely biblical, and the second truth is a mix of biblical truth and biblically based speculation:

1. Every single human being you have ever met, or will meet, will last forever.
2. Good things on this planet, after purification by fire,⁵ will last forever. These good things will very likely include popular culture, which includes stories.

If we neglect these truths, we’ll opt for the companion half-truths or deceptions, such as:

1. Stories and things that we personally enjoy are more important than human beings.
2. Our eternity will not include stories or fantastical stories, so we only need to use them temporarily as some compensation for sin—not to bring glory to God forever.

By practicing these seven methods, you are sure to keep Christian-made fantasy, science fiction, horror/supernatural stories, and beyond from becoming an excellent, thriving, people-centered, and God-exalting genre. What other methods have you seen in action?

Leaf By Niggle is one of J. R. R. Tolkien’s short works, and one of his obscure ones. I find this obscurity unfortunate, because Leaf By Niggle is the most magnificent allegory I have ever read. Allegory has in some quarters a reputation for being heavy-handed, but the more subtle allegories give readers leeway to make their own interpretations.

I experienced a striking instance of this in Leaf By Niggle. The broader allegory of the story is obvious; the long journey that Niggle does not want to take is death, the Mountains are heaven, and Niggle’s painting is what Tolkien would have called “subcreation.” One pivotal scene, however, offers itself to many different understandings.

In this scene, Niggle—having taken his long journey—listens to two mysterious Voices discuss his fate (who, or even where, they are is unstated).

“Now the Niggle case,” said a Voice, a severe Voice, more severe than the doctor’s.

“What was the matter with him?” said a Second Voice, a voice that you might have called gentle, though it was not soft—it was a voice of authority, and sounded at once hopeful and sad. “What was the matter with Niggle? His heart was in the right place.”

“Yes, but it did not function properly,” said the First Voice. “And his head was not screwed on tight enough: he hardly ever thought at all. Look at the time he wasted, not even amusing himself! He never got ready for his journey. … A bad case, I am afraid. I think he should stay some time yet.”

“It would not do him any harm, perhaps,” said the Second Voice. “But, of course, he is only a little man. He was never meant to be anything very much; and he was never very strong. Let us look at the Records. Yes. There are some favourable points, you know.”

“Perhaps,” said the First Voice; “but very few that will really bear examination.”

The Voices then make the examination, one searching for the good in the Records and the other pointing out the bad —and both, it is plain, equally correct. At the end, the First Voice says,

“It is your task, of course, to put the best interpretation on the facts. Sometimes they will bear it. What do you propose?”

“I think it is a case for a little gentle treatment now,” said the Second Voice.

Niggle thought he had never heard anything so generous as that Voice. It made Gentle Treatment sound like a load of rich gifts, and the summons to a King’s feast. Then suddenly Niggle felt ashamed. To hear that he was considered a case for Gentle Treatment overwhelmed him, and made him blush in the dark. It was like being publicly praised, when you and all the audience knew that the praise was not deserved.

This debate between the unseen Voices, in which both are right but one secures treatment for Niggle quite beyond his merits, has always reminded me … I won’t say of the Trinity. That would put it too strongly. But it reminds me of an aspect of the Trinity—Father and Son, intercessor and judge, a voice for justice and a voice for mercy, “the talk of the Three in One.”

I wouldn’t guess that this is what Tolkien himself had in mind, and I don’t expect other readers to make the same associations that I did. My interpretation is not the interpretation, but it is an interpretation. All fiction is seen through the prism of each individual’s beliefs and knowledge and experiences. Consequently, all fiction—and especially speculative fiction, with its departure from strict facts—may easily mean different things to different people.

The diverse interpretations of stories is part of the fun of stories. As long as readers remain within the bounds of the text, and remember that what is in their heads is not necessarily what was in the author’s head, no one has any cause for complaint.

Frodo isn’t a hero.

Before you denounce me for a Middle-earth heretic or accuse me of being controlled by the power of the Ring, let me offer an explanation.

The typical progression of a story goes something like this:

• We meet a new character
• We come to know and like said character
• Conflict arises, requiring said character to act
• Said character goes on a journey (usually of both the internal and external variety)
• Said character must defeat the enemy as part of the plot

As far as heroes go, Frodo is fine—until that last point. Generalizing can be dangerous when it comes to stories, because no two stories are created equal. However, in this instance, it’s helpful. Keeping that in mind, the hero *should* end up saving the day, whatever that looks like.

Frodo came close. Oh so close. Yet, at the turning point, the moment when everything hung in the balance, he faltered and claimed the Ring for himself.

He didn’t complete his quest to destroy the Ring and thereby save Middle-earth from Sauron.

What are the implications?

• That Gandalf’s faith in the ability of hobbits was misplaced or misguided?
• That Frodo wasn’t the one cut out for the job?
• That the toll of the quest and the siren call of the Ring finally made him snap?
• That Sam is the true hero of the story?

Possibly, and my intention isn’t to debate the what-ifs and whyfors. What I want to focus on is the fact that by any standard, Frodo did more than his best (if that’s even possible). He gave his all to the quest.

He left home. He trudged for hundreds of miles. He fought. He submitted to the burden of the Ring and the myriad trials—physical and psychological—such an act entailed.

And in the end, it wasn’t enough. Because what good is running a marathon when you collapse fifteen feet from the finish line, unable to rise?

To Fail or Not to Fail

How many times are we told to do our best, that giving everything you have is all anyone can ask? That’s partially true, but it leaves situations like Frodo’s failure out of the picture.

The lesson here is startling yet profound. Though Lord of the Rings isn’t allegorical or overtly Christian, its themes and substance stem from Tolkien’s Christian worldview and as such present glimmers of truth throughout.

This image—Frodo’s failing despite his best effort—gets at the heart of the Gospel and the fact that left to ourselves, we can try-try-try all the livelong day and never measure up to what God requires. Never hope to come close.

Granted, the analogy breaks down because Frodo could have accomplished his task, indeed was on the verge of doing so, whereas we are utterly unable to live perfectly as God demands.

What’s the point in all this? To see the golden shafts of truth and hope woven into this dark moment of failure. Yes, Frodo failed, but did the quest?

No. Sauron was destroyed.

Image from Pixabay

In the same fashion, we can take heart that our constant failings aren’t the end of the story. In fact, they’re where the story begins. The story is that of redemption.

Where we failed, Christ didn’t.

Where we sinned, he lived the perfect life.

Where we gave in to defeat, he conquered.

I don’t know how often people think of this moment in Frodo’s quest, but it’s a defining moment of the entire story. When framed with the lens of the deeper meaning running beneath the surface, it goes from an instant where everything went terribly wrong to a promise of hope beyond despair.

A eucatastrophe, as Tolkien termed it.

And that is a comfort to remember.

Next time you read Lord of the Rings or watch Return of the King, remember that truth. Next time you want to look at the many ways you’ve failed, remember the One who didn’t fail.

It’s time for another Spec Faith Writing Challenge.

As a reminder, here’s how this particular challenge works:

1. I’ll give a first line, and those who wish to accept the challenge will write what comes next—in 100 to 300 words, putting your entry into the comments section of this post.

“What comes next” may be the opening of a novel, a short story, or a completed piece of flash fiction—your choice.

In keeping with Spec Faith’s primary focus on the intersection of speculative fiction and the Christian faith, writers may wish to incorporate Christian elements or to write intentionally from a Christian worldview, but neither is required. Likewise, I’d expect speculative elements, or the suggestion of such, but entries will not be disqualified because of their omission.

2. Readers will give thumbs up to the ones they like the most (unlimited number of likes), and, if they wish, they may give a comment to the various entries, telling what particularly grabbed their attention.

By the way, I encourage such responses—it’s always helpful for entrants to know what they did right and what they could have done to improve.

3. After the designated time, I’ll re-post the top three (based on the number of thumbs up they receive) and visitors will have a chance to vote on which they believe is the best (one vote only).

4. I’ll again sweeten the pot and offer a $25 gift card (from either Amazon or Barnes and Noble) to the writer of the entry that receives the most votes (as opposed to the most thumbs up). In the event of a tie, a drawing will be held between the top vote getters to determine the winner.

And now, the first line:

Josie MacDonald was not hearing things—at least not things other people could hear.

Finally, those silly little details we all need to know:

• Your word count does not include this first line.

• You will have between now and midnight (Pacific time) this coming Sunday to post your challenge entries in the comments section.

• You may reply to entries, giving thumbs up, this week and next. To have your thumb-up counted to determine the top three entries, mark your favorite entries before Monday, August 22.

• Voting begins Monday, August 29.

Feel free to invite any of your friends to participate, either as writers or readers. The more entries and the more feedback, the better the challenge.

I’m exploring fictional magic, witchcraft, sorcery, and the occult, and Christians’ responses.

Want to assist?

Here’s why I’m doing this. At and after Realm Makers in Philadelphia two weeks ago, I’ve enjoyed several conversations about magic in fiction.

What is fictional magic?

Does Scripture condemn fictional magic?

Does the fictional origin/power source matter?

What if immature readers cannot discern a popular story series that includes magic?

Does a reader’s background with the occult, or familiarity with people with occult backgrounds, matter?

I’ve explored this topic before, in articles such as Winners Don’t Do Witchcraft and Deuteronomy 18 Witchcraft: What It Is and Isn’t.

But clearly this topic is evergreen.

And this time, rather than writing more about it, I’d rather hear from you.

So here’s the poll. I’ve made it so you can select more than one option. Why? Because I’m sure many Christians have held differing views on the topic of fictional magic. Maybe even now you’re not sure, and hold two views at once.

I’d also love to hear your story. What has/have been your view(s) on fictional magic before? Why did they change?

And if we need another poll answer, I’ll add another option.

Thanks for your help. And always remember the true “magic” of a potentially controversial discussion — friendship!

Note: Since this article’s and poll’s publication early Friday, Aug. 12, I have fixed a poll typo, added a few options, and even clarified the title based on feedback. Thanks for the excellent discussion.

I haven’t seen the new Suicide Squad movie, and from the conflicting reviews, I’m not in any hurry. The cute tagline “Worst. Heroes. Ever.” makes it obvious that this is no ordinary superhero movie. I have seen the animated (and shockingly graphic) precursor Batman: Assault on Arkham, where the Suicide Squad is sent on a search-and-destroy mission simply because their heads will explode if they don’t accept. Mercenaries without getting paid, so to speak. Nothing really heroic, just survival. From what I’ve heard about the new movie, though, there is a greater evil than their merry band of miscreants, though they don’t set out to stop it out of the goodness of their hearts.

Image copyright Warner Bros.

The story world has always spun tales of lovable rogues. Robin Hood and his merry men. Riddick. Han and Chewy. Jack Sparrow. The Misfits. Motley Crue…wait, nevermind. Anyway, we love stories about surly tough guys who just want to look out for number one and end up doing good along the way. They may be bad and selfish, but they end up fighting someone or something worse, which makes them less bad by default. A memorable quote from The Chronicles of Riddick: “In normal times, evil should be fought by good, but in times like this, well, it should be fought by another kind of evil.” Doesn’t really make sense when you break it down, but it makes for good entertainment.

There is also usually some element of redemption in these kinds of stories. Deadshot’s love for his daughter adds a soft spot to an otherwise cold killer. Riddick is ruthless but only to those who deserve it and helps others even when it puts his life in danger. Robin Hood steals from the rich and gives to the poor. We have a hard time rooting for someone who is pure evil, even if they do some “good.” We want to see some change in their character, some melting of the ice. Hannibal Lecter helped Clarice Starling catch the skin-wearing psychopath, but he stayed just as evil and sadistic as he was when we first met him. No one could consider him to be a “hero.” The notion that good triumphs over evil is an inherent human hope, and we reflect it even on those who are evil but do some good actions.

The theme of the Bible is that God, the ultimate good, triumphs over the evils of sin and death. There is no heart too cold for Him to thaw, no sin too black for him to erase. We desperately need to believe that this is true, because we lost without it. We impart this need onto the fictional world as well. Traditionally “good” heroes like Superman or Spider-Man start out good, fight the good fight, maybe a little compromise or moral conflict here and there, but in the end, good wins, and they remain good. Yet it is the evil “heroes” that challenge us with the added need for redemption. We don’t necessarily want them to become “good” but we don’t want to see them revel in evil. We want them to stop and think, “Maybe blowing up innocent people isn’t the best use of my time. I’ll still smash windows and punch out the cops, but maybe there’s more to life than this…” We cheer when characters like Spawn or Ghost Rider, regular guys inadvertently thrown into the supernatural realm, use their evil-borne powers for good instead of doing the devil’s bidding.

Image copyright Sony Pictures

As believers, we know this isn’t just wishful thinking. The world is full of awful people whose lives have been transformed by the healing power of God’s grace. Even those who resist God’s love sometimes feel convicted and forsake their evil pursuits because of their own conscience. Just as light overpowers the darkness, so does good overpower evil. It may take awhile, and the darkness may never leave some people completely, but everyone knows the strength and power of love, even when it’s on the comic page or movie screen.