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 The Art of Conflict When Writing Conflict
I should be an expert in writing conflict. After all,
I was on the debate team in high school, and a seventh grade boy wrote in my yearbook, “You would argue with a sign
post if you could.” I’ve had my share of personal conflict—family problems, ex-husband, relationship disappointments,
and yes, my own report card of failures.
As if that wasn’t enough, I’ve had a first-class seat to
some of the most spectacular conflicts on the planet. I worked for twenty years as a court reporter. The adversarial nature
of the job left me exhausted. I would sit at my stenograph machine for long hours each day, between attorneys and hostile
witnesses, recording the barrage of questions about lost reputations, cheating husbands, financial ruin, and hearts broken—high-powered
lawyers bent on winning at all cost.
Conflict raged within me as I hated being at the center of it all. The louder
they argued, the more nervous I became. Please don’t ask me to read this back. It’s hard to write well when everyone
is yelling at each other. If I could count the number of strokes hit on my stenograph machine, the amount would not be measurable.
Conflict abounds and sometimes borders on murder in a courtroom, where truth isn’t always the ultimate goal. Because
experience and memories shape our worldview, to this day I cringe at the thought of going back to that life—please God,
never again. I don’t want that conflict.
Today I work as a broadcast captioner for television and write as
little news as possible. Very few upbeat stories get reported and I have grown weary of captioning sensational beats about
kidnapped children, victims of abuse, Washington bureaucracy, and a world at war—at the gas pump, in the Middle East,
and a host of ideologies that scare me. I cherish my freedom and don’t want it taken from me. (Yes, I do feel much of
what I love about my country is eroding). But most of all, I hate captioning tragedies that could have been avoided. Life
can be very depressing—and steeped in conflict.
As much as I hate conflict, as an author, how do I use it
in fiction? Or do I even want to create painful conflict for my protagonist? Do I shy away from building a story that needs
high-stakes conflict to create a fabulous, climatic ending? Or can I use conflict to remind me of a nobler purpose in God’s
eternal plan?
Put into the context of life, is there a reason behind the conflict which we encounter every single
waking moment of our lives? Is it not the result of the stinking sin in myself and others? How do I resolve this paradox in
my writing?
Fortunately, as writers, we have the freedom to go where our heart and art takes us. Unless I write
poetry, however, I won’t have a story without conflict. Acknowledging that the dénouement is what makes a story
remarkable, I can set the scene for redemption before I begin the first page.
In the 1990’s, Hollywood released
a lot of box-office films that had downer endings; the bad guy won, the problem wasn’t resolved the way I wanted, or
the main character died. I quit going to the movies.
My mantra now is I refuse to write, read, or see movies where
there is no redemption. If I feel stuck without a good moral choice in life, I will search for it. God can bring redemption
out of the worst possible circumstance. There is good in the world if we look for it.
In writing a great book,
there should be something in the dénouement that causes the reader to grapple with the story’s action-idea. The
unraveling of the conflict must result in a satisfying conclusion. I don’t want the reader to feel as though he has
been cheated by mediocre creativity or immorality that wins.
While our stories imitate life, the climax needs
to reach a higher level of “being.” When I read a story, give me more. Give me excitement worth remembering, knowledge
extraordinaire, and thought-provoking ideas. I want to relate to a protagonist that overcomes incredible odds and wins. Beauty,
love, peace—we are not sufficiently redeemed to appreciate this trilogy of goodness in all its meaning, but because
writing imitates life, we can catch glimpses of it in a redemptive ending.
As an author, my passion is to bring
a "taste of heaven" to this earthly kingdom inhabited by kings and peasants, and all of us in between. That means
what I write must linger. I must create meaningful connections in the reader’s mind after his eyes have read the last
page. I wield incredible power—to bless or curse. As a Christian, I want to captivate the reader with words that are
uplifting, powerful, thought-provoking, and life-changing. That might seem impossible, but the greatest stories ever written
have those qualities—unique characters engaged in mortal conflict, either internal, physical, or both.
I
write where my heart takes me, digging into my past, and seeing what God stirs up from within. I write for myself first and
then for others. It's up to each of us to decide how we use the "rules of writing,” acknowledging that those words
will live on long after we are gone—for good or evil. History is replete with both.
I can’t dilute
the plot to avoid conflict. I want redemption to reign supreme in the last chapter. I must weave the nature of fallen man
into the story through conflict, knowing that I have the answers that a sinful world craves. I can do it subtly or not so
subtly, but if I compromise on either, I will weaken the story that God has given me. Great conflict deserves great redemption.
How does conflict work in writing? The conflict must propel the story forward and relate in some way to the protagonist's
nearly unreachable goal. There must be clear turning points (three-act structure works well), and there should be a main goal
and at least one minor goal. Often the minor goal relates to character development (so the protagonist can reach his main
goal).
With "up" endings, the protagonist wildly succeeds and goes through a metamorphosis in the process.
He is not the same at the end as he was in the beginning. Despite his character flaws and numerous obstacles, he overcomes
the odds and achieves his dream or even something better. Surprise endings are always the best
I have wondered
if there is a higher standard for writing novels than the Aristotle tradition of dealing with conflict, but for a different
reason. I want to write great stories in heaven, and in heaven, there is no conflict. What shall I write? Maybe I will become
a poet. If you are one of those saints, pursue your calling with passion; keep writing those beautiful sonnets and songs.
When my world becomes steeped in shadows, I turn to the Psalms and relish those soothing words of comfort and security.
In the Bible, Jesus knew the evil tentacles of life would strangle his listeners if they succumbed to their base nature,
so he told amazing, redemptive stories, steeped in conflict, to reveal profound truths. If I follow that example, perhaps
I can conquer my inner conflict of wanting to avoid conflict and write a great redemptive story—which must abound in
conflict
Fear of being judged is a great spoiler of creativity. Unnecessary rules affect me the same way, and I run from negativity
like the plague. I have learned it is better for me to be alone when I am "in the spirit" and writing; hence, my
frequent trips to Starbucks."Perfect love casts out fear" is one
of my favorite passages from the Bible. I have come to believe that those who say negative, unloving things-in reviews, in
comments, or in other aspects of living-either are insecure or narcissistic. I may not know which, but I avoid those types
of people like roaches. I can make my own pity party without their help. Instead, I seek out those who are full of the spirit.
Most noticeably in the John 3:16 Marketing Network, we have individuals who are uplifting and caring about others.
I love the song, "We are one in the
spirit, we are one in the Lord..." May we love better as we write because we write what the world needs to hear. As the
song goes, "What the world needs now, is love, sweet love..."
Love Your Characters
A recent event popped into my head where I misjudged somebody’s comment. Fortunately, it bugged me enough that
I said something about it to my daughter, who promptly straightened out my misunderstanding. I was thankful she did and later
wondered how many times I’ve misjudged someone and never knew.
As a fictional writer it’s important to understand the inner workings of even the most
bastard character. The psychology of being is at the core of every living thing and crucial to what makes each individual
unique. If we want to make believable characters, we better know what makes them itch, do something stupid, or surprise the
reader; but to love them? I am not sure I can do that. Perhaps I can love getting to know them better as I create them, but
I don’t know if I have the power of Dickens to love my antagonistic characters the way he did.
The context here of “be
perfect” should be considered active, not passive. We can never be perfect in the passive sense, but with God’s
help, we look forward to what we can become. We can try to write the perfect story, the perfect book, the perfect whatever,
knowing humanly-speaking we won’t achieve it, but also knowing we are a work in progress. If we walk with God, the more
we learn about Him, the greater the possibility of achieving perfection.
I believe some saints of the arts have come close. I think about the perfection of Handel’s
Messiah and Pachelbel’s Canon. When I was in Italy I visited The Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci. I stared at the painting
for about thirty minutes all alone (a gift in itself) admiring its beauty. Even in its compromised condition, the artwork
was perfect to me. The amazing masterpiece brought me into a sweet communion with God which I had not experienced for a long
time. As far as the art of writing, we have the greatest story ever told
in the Bible. While there may be copying mistakes, do we really see them? I get so “in the spirit” with the beauty
that comes close to perfection that I forget it was written by imperfect human beings. Why would God not continue to dole out creativity like that today? I believe He does. We don’t strive, but we
do give God our all, knowing that when we create, we become most like Him, the Creator. As a child of God, we know He seeks
to give us more than we could ever ask. When we think of art and developing the talents He’s given us, we can come close
to perfection.
Otherwise, why would demons waste so much time destroying creative minds? Look around and see the
beauty; it is all around us—in nature, in museums, in music, and in books. God’s creative spirit indwells and
woos us to believe in miracles, in redemption, in love, in hope, in art. The world needs us and God blesses us with our creativity
for His good pleasure.
My comments are based on Ken Kuhlken's book, Writing and the
Spirit. Get Real
Becoming the person God created me to be has been fraught with unbelievable obstacles. I don’t know whether it
is so with others, but from the time I was a child, I have struggled with being “me.” A broken home at an early
age, unrealistic expectations, lack of spiritual truth, insecurity, and a failure to recognize myself as “created in
God’s image” kept me on dead end roads for years.
The gumption never to give up in search of truth
was God’s gift. His unconditional love has enabled me to overcome the demons from the past, the lies I believed, and
the grace to let go of the hurt. Redemption is the reward in this world for a life well-finished in spite of perilous beginnings.
And for that I am thankful.
My comments are based on Ken Kuhlken's book,
Writing and the Spirit
Begin with the Spirit
I have discovered the greatest killer of creative writing for me
is lack of sleep. The second greatest obstacle is worry—about the future, my family, my career, or not being in control.
In recent years, I have made sleep a priority, but I haven’t conquered
this dragon. On some days he roars out and I am beat completely. I tell myself, this, too, shall pass. Tonight I will get
a good night’s rest and tomorrow I will begin again. The first step, though, is recognizing the need and then pursuing
the need with commitment. I have found the commitment is attainable, though not without sacrifice. Sometimes other things
don’t get done. But to be creative, I must get sufficient sleep; no ifs, ands, or buts. The second obstacle presents a more slippery slope. I call this the battle of emotions. My human nature is to worry;
my spiritual nature is to trust God. As pointed out in the chapter, I must begin with the “spirit” to even have
a chance of winning this battle. Without God, I can’t do anything. My writing is stale and I don’t even have a
desire to write. All my energy is consumed with whatever I am besieged with, and the result is depression.
I have come to realize there is something circuitous
about this; I write not to become depressed, but I can’t write if I am depressed. So it begins with the Bible, focusing
on God, and prayer. These tenets of the faith help me to be in the right mindset to overcome evil, and I believe it is evil
that prevents me from writing. It is a battle of the mind for control—worry versus trust, belief versus unbelief. These
battles, though, can be woven into wonderful stories with redemption. That is why I write.
The Art of Stuckness While I have never experienced stuckness in writing, more appropriately
called writer’s block, I have to admit a great portion of my waking hours I am stuck on something; i.e., stuck in traffic,
stuck waiting at the red light, stuck standing in line, stuck on hold on the phone, stuck staring at my computer screen, stuck
waiting to get paid; or for someone to answer an email, or to get out of the dentist chair, or to get over a cold, or to get
the car fixed, or for the stock market to return to transparency; or stuck waiting for free time—to read, write, slow
down, relax; or get off the air from captioning. Tonight I didn’t finish till 12:30am. My chair seat and I spend too
much time together. I might as well be stuck to it, too.
Recently I took my dog to the vet. She had poop
stuck inside her that wouldn’t come out. Talk about being stuck—I’ll spare you the details, but being stuck
is part of the fallen world and the human condition from which we can’t get escape. I can’t be spared the stress
even in my dreams.
One recurring dream pictures me driving an orange bus. I am sitting in the back seat
trying to maneuver it over a road that angles down a mountain at 180 degrees. I always wake up and never reach the bottom.
I wonder what the bus represents. Why am I at the very back driving? And why does the road have such a steep incline? Which
problem am I stuck on and unable to solve?
The worst part about being stuck is that it robs me of creativity,
frustrates me, and puts me out of sorts with the world—and God in particular.
So, to give an example
of an ongoing stuckness for this week, enjoy the following. Cry with me or laugh with me—either way, hysterically. Is
this really believable?
At the beginning of the year I decided to bundle my cable, phone, and internet accounts
with Cox Cable. These services previously had been provided by both Bell South and Cox Cable. According to the Cox Cable representative,
this would save me about $30 per month. In these “tough economic times,” I figured even with all the hassle of
switching, over the course of time, $30 per month would become significant.
I wanted assurances from the
Cox Cable representative of three things: First, how much money it would save me; second, that the switch in phone lines would
not affect my internet/email; and third, I would not experience disconnects using their phone service.
Because
I use my phone lines to provide live captioning for television, disconnects on live programming causes captions to become
disrupted. If a station loses too much airtime, it will be fined by the FCC. Since stations don’t want to be fined,
they take it seriously when a captioning provider has too many on-air issues, whether it be poor captions, disconnects, corrupted
captions, or no captions at all. Too many issues will likely mean when the contract comes up for renewal, that company won’t
be awarded the contract. Contacts with the larger stations like Fox, ESPNews, CBS, and others are multimillion-dollar contracts.
If a captioner has too many disconnects, the captioning provider will “dump” the subcontractor, somebody like
me, and hire someone else to perform the work.
I was assured by Cox Cable there would be no problem and that
the quality of their phone service was as good as what Bell South had been providing me for years.
Fast forward
a few days. The technician arrived and spent all afternoon wiring my house. He checked everything before he left, or so we
thought, and I believed everything was working properly. Later that evening, I went online to check my email. I discovered
while I could receive my email through Microsoft Outlook, I couldn’t send anything out of Microsoft Outlook. I called
Cox Cable, and somebody came on the phone right away and fixed it. I breathed a sigh of relief.
Then, later
that evening, I experienced several disconnects on programming I had never had disconnects with before. I ended up having
more disconnects in one week than I had experienced in five years. I contacted Cox Cable two days later—I should have
called them immediately—after several disconnects and was alarmed by their lack of responsiveness. In fact, they seemed
shocked that such a small inconvenience as getting disconnected could cause me such anxiety. After a while, probably more
to shut me up than anything else, the Cox representative assured me they would check it out and fix the problem.
But the disconnection issues continued. Within a week I was on the phone to Bell South to switch my lines back with
them. I spent about an hour talking to a very nice representative answering various questions. At the end of the call, she
said, “We need the information you have given me verified by a third-party.” I was running out of time and needed
to finish up to go on the air. I thought I would answer the final questions and be on my merry way; but the third-party verifier
said her information showed I was only transferring one line. I said, “No, I am transferring two lines.”
We argued back and forth, and I realized I couldn’t solve this unexpected issue in one minute. I would have
to cancel the entire request for the switch in service and redo the process the next day. I couldn’t risk having only
one active phone line. I needed two active lines to caption. I told the representative, “If you can’t transfer
both lines over, then cancel the order and I will start it all over tomorrow.”
The next morning, I
called Bell South again. The woman on the line said, “Oh, it just shows up as one phone line, but it’s really
two. The people that do the verification don’t know that.” And she said, “We can just undo the cancellation.”
I said, “Great.” I had better things to do with my time than spending it redoing what I had already done the night
before.
Fast forward two weeks. The disconnects continued, and I was forced to fill out far too many discrepancy
reports. In the meantime, while I was waiting for the lines to be switched back, I discovered that my iphone would not let
me send out emails. I needed it to work because I was going out of town. I called Cox Cable to verify what the strange settings
were I needed for my iphone. The representative from Cox Cable convinced me to reset my settings on my Office Outlook back
to what they were before I added the phone lines. I was skeptical about changing them, but I sent myself a verification email
which came back to me promptly, so I assumed incorrectly she was right and knew more than I did.
I changed
the settings on Microsoft Outlook as she instructed. I then called AT&T to put the settings back to what they were before
on the iphone. I had changed them trying to get the iphone to work with the new settings for Microsoft Outlook. I spent a
couple of hours on the phone with AT&T. Once this was accomplished, I thought everything on my email would be back to
the way it was originally.
Later that evening, I went on the computer to check my emails. Once again, I couldn’t
send out emails. It was late at night and there was nothing I could do about it except be frustrated.
Over
the course of the ensuing weekend, I talked to several representatives at Cox Cable trying to find somebody who could change
the settings to allow me to send emails. Most of them told me, “We don’t support Outlook.” By now I was
approaching my limit of “niceness.” But I was going out of town, couldn’t take my computer with me, and
figured I could send emails off my iphone; not very efficient, but better than nothing. I would live with the inconvenience
until the following Tuesday (this was on a Friday), when my phone lines were scheduled to be switched back to Bell South.
With the settings I had, my Microsoft Outlook should work by then. I would be patient, even though I was frustrated.
Tuesday came and went, and nothing seemed to happen with the phones—except I continued to have disconnects.
ESPNews had called twice about the number of disconnects during my programming. I had filled out about thirty discrepancy
reports for lost air time with various companies for which I worked. I was concerned when nothing seemed different and was
getting more paranoid. I called Bell South on Wednesday to ask if they had switched the phone lines and was told, “You
cancelled it two weeks ago.” When I told the representative that the woman said she would un-cancel it for me and that
the lines would be switched in two weeks, she said, “You can’t un-cancel a cancellation.”
Now, I was angry. All this time I thought things were in process for the switch. Two weeks later, I had to start all over
again. I spent an hour on the phone, going through the questions and answers the second time. I thought everything was taken
care of now. But an hour later, I got a phone call, “The verification wasn’t done right. We need to redo it.”
I said, “Okay,” and redid the verification a third time. “This is the final time,” I told myself,
again.
A few hours later I returned home to a waiting message on my phone, “We need to verify the switch
again. It wasn’t done correctly.” I wondered which verification was done wrong; the second one, the third one,
or both? I called Bell South and told them, “I am fixing to go on the air, so I need to do this quickly.” They
put me on hold and I assume forgot about me. I hung up and dialed in for my show, angry at the inability to accomplish something
so simple yet so important.
The next day I was headed out of town and had no time to call Bell South. I was
still unable to send emails out of Office Outlook. This was a big inconvenience because I receive over two hundred emails
on a normal day. I continued to have disconnection issues while captioning. But I couldn’t do anything about it until
Monday.
First thing Monday morning I made the dreaded call to Bell South. How many verifications did I need
to do to get it right? After going through the whole story once again, the representative told me the switch had already been
made on one line and the switch on the other line would be made in one week.
I was still experiencing disconnects
on the line that supposedly had been switched so I was concerned. The representative from Bell South connected me with the
technical department to see what could be causing the issue. I gave that person the number with which I was having issues.
To my dismay, she told me, “That number is disconnected.”
Now I wondered who the blankety-blank
was providing my crappy service on that line. I yelled at the poor woman and demanded to speak to a supervisor. While I was
on hold, I dialed out to make sure the line was still working. I got a dial tone. Soon a woman who was “Ms. Control”
came on the phone and was everything but helpful. Because she wouldn’t listen to me, I asked to speak to someone else,
and then I was disconnected. I couldn’t imagine why.
I called Bell South back and got disconnected
again. I called a third time (what else could I do), and explained all over again what I had been through to another person
who knew nothing. She listened, put me on hold, and came back and told me that the line had not been switched yet. She said,
“I was told by the technical department it looks like it’s disconnected because it is still in the process of
being switched back.” In other words, they hadn’t received the paperwork yet. This was different from what I was
told earlier, which probably explained why I was still having issues. The line was on Cox Cable’s equipment.
Tonight, as I sit here, I hope she is right and that my lines will be switched next Monday, as promised, and I will
still have a job.
I was too worried to wait a whole week for my Office Outlook to work properly. I called
Cox Cable and demanded they find somebody who could fix it to where I could send emails. I heard the usual run-around, “We
don’t support Outlook.”
I gave them my angst, “You said switching the lines would not affect
my email service, you made it possible for me to receive emails until your representative changed it to where it would no
longer work, and I demand you find somebody to fix my Office Outlook NOW.” I was put on hold for too long, and then
told a technical person would call me back shortly.
I waited two hours and no one called. So I took Joy to
her gymnastics class. While driving, my phone rang. Of course, it was the Cox Cable technical support, now that I couldn’t
talk. I asked him to call me back in fifteen minutes; I dropped Joy off and hurried home. A few minutes later, we connected
on the phone. In lightning fashion, even faster than I thought possible, he fixed the issue. It’s amazing how quickly
something can be done by competent people. As of right now, I am able to send from Outlook, though, of course, I still can’t
send from my iphone.
The almost end of the story is the bill I just received--$250 for the two phone lines.
My Bell South bill in December was $154. The plan was to switch to Cox Cable and bundle my services so I could save $30 a
month. When I asked the Cox representative about the higher-than-expected bill, she said, “Well, this isn’t a
bundle.” I asked her why in the world I would switch from Bell South to Cox Cable if it was going to cost me $100 more
per month. No, I am not stupid; even my kids give me more credit than that.
Why have I gone into such detail?
Because I don’t think my reality is that different from everyone else. I just took the time to write it all down rather
than throw the computer out the window, or throw my cell phone across the room (I do have experience with that), or wring
somebody’s neck. I really don’t want to be stuck in jail.
But bringing stuckness back to writing,
is it possible to have what is more commonly known as writer’s block? I don’t know about others, but for me at
least, I have never experienced it. Any blocks toward writing do not stem from the writing act itself, but from the other
parts of living that constrain me from creativity—worry, distraction, or near insanity dealing with issues like the
above; the parts of living we long to escape from that consume our time, energy, and resources. Given enough futility, I can
be left with zilch desire to write.
We don’t live in paradise yet and won’t until the Lord’s
return; so the question is, how do I deal with the stuckness that wraps its ugly tentacles around my emotions and invades
my life? Does God even care, I wonder, when I am most depressed?
I fail in ways I would rather not mention
in this “G”–rated piece of writing. I have a long ways to go to be like Jesus in dealing with stuckness
of most varieties. But I have found the one thing that irks me the most is dealing with incompetence. Even something as simple
as trying to unclog the commode or sink can send me into a tailspin of four-letter words a Christian ought not to say.
Caring is not enough. I care whether I can flush my commode, or that my dog needs to poop and can’t. The
question, as raised in Robert M. Pirsig’s Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, is the definition of quality. Quality
has much less to do with caring than competence. A person might care, but if he doesn’t have the necessary knowledge,
all the caring in the world won’t fix that broken bone or save that broken marriage.
I might care
a lot about my writing, but if I don’t know how to build a believable plot, all my caring isn’t going to make
me a best-seller. (I tried that, it doesn’t work).
In the same way, almost everyone I talked to at
Cox Cable and Bell South cared, but incompetency at various levels made their caring insufficient to fix my problem.
Stuckness always comes back to competence. Quality comes out of competence. It rises above mediocrity and exudes perfection.
As a Christian, quality takes on a far more important meaning. Jesus was and is the Quality, and out of
the Quality comes goodness. Taken in the context of a fallen world, we must find the goodness in the world or we will become
too despondent with sin.
God commands us in the Bible to look for the good in everything. Philippians 4:8
tells us, “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is
admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.”
Out of the
worst circumstances, good can emerge. In earthquakes, we see “goodness;” from help that arrives in the form of
volunteers, food, water and medicine. There is nothing like putting a face to quality. We shake our heads at what one determined
person can endure to survive and become reacquainted once again with love and goodness—the quality that makes life bearable
and for whom we are image-bearers. We reassess what’s important remembering once again life is precious, and only through
love is there quality and reason for careful living.
If we didn’t have the struggles, we would have
no story. If we didn’t have goodness, we would have no quality, no benchmark to measure our efforts, nothing worth striving
for in writing. We would not be able to find redemption.
Even in my story here, there will be redemption.
Why? Because I didn’t give up. I rarely give up, and perhaps that gets into the gumption aspect which I will save for
the next writing piece.
I think what is most important is that we focus on process and not outcome. If we
destroy ourselves or others to attain quality, we have short-circuited God’s best. As my mother used to say, “The
road to hell is paved with good intentions.” I must learn how to handle the frustrations of process—impatience,
incompetence, uncertainty, worry, and all the less productive ways that tell me I haven’t arrived; if anything, that
will end up leaving me stuck on the road to nowhere.
Who wants to stay stuck? We must do whatever it takes.
Perhaps it takes years to get unstuck—from a divorce, from depression, from loss, or a host of other unimaginable circumstances.
In order to attain quality, we must keep looking up, cease striving, and know where there is Quality, we can find “goodness”
that is worth living for—and writing about. Sooner or later, if we are honest in our search, we will find more than
competence. We will find quality in ourselves and in others, because we are the vessel of the Holy Spirit, and in that hidden
place within us, there is “Quality.”
In my advanced writing class at Perelandra College, Professor Ken Kuhlken wrote, “When we have preconceptions,
we need to let go of them if we hope to find new answers.”
Preconceptions can set us up for failure if we are rigid. But what if we use our preconceptions
to catapult us to a level of excellence not limited by our finite vision? A
couple of years ago, I wrote my memoir about the adoption of my two daughters as creative nonfiction. I meticulously researched
facts and details I had forgotten. I scoured the Internet to verify locations, names, dates, and chronological order of events.
I pulled out every document I had saved from both adoptions and poured my heart and soul into my writing.
I asked many friends, professional acquaintances,
and editor-journalism-communication types to read Children of Dreams and offer suggestions on how I could make it better.
I listened and made revisions that created an almost unbelievable story.
Two weeks before the Florida Christian Writer’s Conference in 2009, I sent off my completed
manuscript to be reviewed by an editor attending the conference. I spent $50 and downloaded a file to prepare me for the right
attitude while at the conference. I had attended this conference twice before and came away both times disillusioned. This
time I was determined not to let that happened.
I couldn’t think of anything that an editor could say to me for which I would not have an answer. I launched
my website before the conference and signed up for the marketing class with Randy Ingermanson. I was ready to dive in and
market my book if an editor or agent offered me a contract on Children of Dreams. I did not feel like I was setting myself
up for failure. I always set lofty goals and then leave the outcome in God’s hands.
The conference arrived and I was excited to be there. I couldn’t
wait to share the joy of my book with others. But when I showed my manuscript around, I was surprised by comments.
“No one is publishing memoirs right
now,” one person said. “Oh, a memoir,” another stated. People stepped back from me like I had bad breath.
Nobody would read one line and acted like I had written something “C” rated at best. But I remained positive.
I was certain when I received my manuscript back from the reviewing editor the next day, he would be interested.
The moment arrived when all the reviews
were handed out to the attendees. When mine wasn’t, I went up and inquired. Despite the volunteers looking everywhere,
they didn’t have mine. While my book was “lost,” all the remaining slots to meet with other editors filled
up. Nobody knew where my book was. If the editor who had received my manuscript didn’t like it, I would have no opportunity
to present my book to someone else. To say I was disillusioned is an understatement,
but it didn’t come close to what I felt when my manuscript was found. I read the note the editor wrote. “You might
consider submitting this to a magazine.”If the editor had read one
paragraph of that 235-page manuscript, he would have known the story couldn’t be condensed into an article. I had presented
part of it to a “Focus on the Family” editor a year earlier, and her comment was, “It’s too long.
If you can shorten it, we would love to take another look.” I was unwilling to cut it down any more, and it was that
comment that made me realize I needed to write the whole story. It took 235 pages to do the story justice.
I did meet later with a couple of editors at the
conference and was told by them—as well as an agent, “When you have one thousand people on an opt-in list, come
back and talk to us.” While I was nice to them, I thought to myself, if I had one thousand people on an opt-in list,
why would I need you?
As a result
of that experience, my “gumption” kicked in. I reassessed what I really wanted. What was important to me? Sometimes
“no’s” become wonderful opportunities to think “outside the box.” We are free to pursue goals
we never would have considered if we had been given what our preconceived ideas told us we wanted.
The key is to be open to change, to give up something to receive
something better. Since God controls the outcome, we should focus on the process and what we can do to enhance our chance
to achieve our goal.
I have
never met an author who didn’t have a lot of gumption to become published. Good writing and successful marketing are
key, and money helps the process to go faster as far as exposure, but without the seed within us never to give up, the chances
are we won’t go anywhere with our writing.
Today I have forty-three reviews with five stars on Amazon. I thank all my friends and professional contacts every
time a new five-star review goes up, knowing without their honest input—and yes, some of it hurt—Children of Dreams
wouldn’t have all those wonderful reviews.
My gumption not to give up is still intact, and I am more determined than ever to share my writing with others. Preconceived
ideas have long gone out the window. I am setting a new path into the unknown with the John 3:16 Marketing Network, writing
a new young adult fantasy novel, obtaining my Masters in Creative Writing, and hopefully someday will teach at the university
level in China when I finish my education.
God gives us a cup overflowing with opportunity when we commit our way to Him. Gumption is the human quality He endears
us with to get us started. If God is for us, who can be against us? The Fictional Dream 
I am thankful the writing of the fictional
dream has no rules. This allows our fictional dream to explore “where no man [or woman] has gone before.” Jon
Gardner admonishes in The Art of Fiction: Notes on Craft for Young Writers, don’t write what you know; write what you
don’t know. Is there enough creative artistry within me to pour out my soul—and write my fictional dream? I cherish
the freedom to risk. As someone who becomes bored easily, I cannot write only what I know.
As I think
about Gardner’s words and the fictional dream, I have come to realize seeking a Masters in Creative Writing can be risky
to an artist. The creative process can be killed as one takes captive every tidbit of advice. With the earnestness of a perfectionist,
zealous corrections may creep in which destroy the fictional dream. The broken threads threaten to braid themselves into a
twisted nightmare which may be technically sound but artistically wanting.
But there must be limitations
unless we are God. When I wrote my memoir Children of Dreams, I sat down at my computer on a Sunday morning and started writing.
I didn’t study any “how to” books or even question if I knew what I was doing. I just started writing. The
more I wrote, the easier the task seemed. But this “fictional” dream was rooted in reality. Once I had tasted
the sweet victory of finishing a book, I wanted to write another one. I also realized at that point I had attained the highest
level of writing I could achieve. Raw, God-given talent can take you only so far.
What happens when you want
to go to the next level? The reality of ignorance rears its head. Like when you study the Bible for the first time seriously,
you soon realize how little you know. A writer is much like an artist. I studied creative writing and books by Jon Gardner,
Linda Seger, James Scott Bell, Charles Dickens, Linda Pastan, Edward Hirsch, Carolyn Wheat, William Zinsser, Jon Franklin,
Mark Jarman, Jack Bickham, Graham Greene, Michael Tierno, Robert McKee and Ken Kuhlken. My mind became overwhelmed with rules
of do’s and don’ts, plot and structure, complication and denouement, point of view, scene, style, arc, and creating
believable characters.
On the marketing side, voluminous sites on the Internet promised shortcuts to success.
One even claimed, “Pay me X dollars and write a book in a weekend!” Would I even want to read my own book written
in a weekend?
But anything worth achieving has no shortcuts. Gardner points out you must learn the rudiments
or you will never become a Master. I felt my fictional dream floating away from me. Derisive voices shouted at me convincing
me I couldn’t write anything anybody would want to read. My fictional dream became filled with demons disguising themselves
as truth. “You can’t do this. You are no good.”
Pain and doubt plagued me, “Am I
going forwards or backwards?” I questioned. I slammed the book down and screamed back, “Shut up!” But as
one continues on this journey into the unknown of the fictional dream, slowly, but painfully, mastery sets in. We come to
the realization, “I can do this, and now I can do it better.”
If we are human, we will never
quit dreaming. Our job as writers is to take that dream and put it on paper. Fiction gives us the freedom to state it more
real and dreamlike if we use the tools in the right way. We can escape into another world that we create through use
of verisimilitude. Verisimilitude allows us to tell our story in a convincing way through proper use of voice and devices.
We must persuade the reader that what we are telling is true. Details should paint a setting that’s real. Characters
need to be lifelike. Problems must appear unsolvable; and the protagonist must beat overwhelming odds. We may move the reader
to tears or hilarity, to disgust or anger. But we must move him emotionally. Otherwise, he will stop reading and say, “This
is not believable. I am bored,” and put the book on the shelf. Not only have we failed to achieve success with the fictional
dream, we have lost an opportunity to change a life (and will probably lose the reader for future books).
My most recent example of a fictional dream that failed is The Shack. The beginning of the book was surreal. I
had to put it down. I was terrified that one of my daughters would be kidnapped and murdered. I still have a hard time looking
at ladybugs the same way, deliberately not counting the number of spots on them. The detail in the writing drew me into the
fictional dream and I was terrified.
I eventually picked the book back up and started reading again. I was
too hooked to not finish it. But then something happened. I read the scene where the Trinity was split into three life-like
people. The God part of the Trinity was called “Papa.” Immediately the fictional dream was no longer real. While
the writing was creative and the rudiments were in place for a great story, the fictional dream in this case interfered too
much with what I know as truth. I couldn’t turn off my unbelief. The fictional dream deviated too far from my core values,
much as Tevye in Fiddler on the Roof could not bless his daughter marrying a non-Jew. His acceptance of her marriage would
have broken him. I put the The Shack down in disappointment several months ago. I retrieved it from my bookshelf as I thought
about the fictional dream and attempted to read it once again. But I couldn’t.
From The Shack
experience, I believe Gardner left out one important point about the fictional dream: If the core beliefs of a person are
too violated, the fictional dream cannot become real. The fictional dream has limits of believability that for me, at least,
can’t contradict the Bible. But recognizing the limits of the fictional dream shouldn’t dissuade us from pursuing
it. In the process, we will elevate our writing to a higher level than we would have achieved otherwise.
I
see the Bible as the greatest story ever told, and the proof-texts in the New Testament are well documented in the Old Testament.
It was the proof-texts that validated the Old Testament that convinced me that the New Testament was true. Jesus was born
into the world to save mankind from his sins. As I think about that, I am struck with the importance of building the proof-texts
into the story We must authenticate every detail, provide a colorful history, present the vividness of our world in 3-D, create
characters that are striking, and a story that the reader will care enough about to forego going to the bathroom until he
can no longer bear the pain. The fictional dream becomes his world now, leaving him in suspense. He worries about the characters
as if they were his friends, his family, or himself.
As another example, the fictional dream should be like
our dreaminess when we sleep—where we absorb everything into it like a vacuum. The thunderstorm outside the bedroom
window becomes part of the reality of our dream. The characters who pop into our dream out of nowhere are people we know in
that other world. Some of those people are found in the real world. Some aren’t, just like in the fictional dream. In
the dream-state, I have places I have visited time and again, places that do not exist in reality. I have friends, jobs, crazy
things I do that seem perfectly normal in that other place. I recently woke up one morning and wondered who that man was I
married during the night. Our dreams take us to places we have never been consciously, but unconsciously, have touched us
in ways we may not be aware. We work out our fears, our hopes, our drudgeries, our unsolvable issues, and wonder the next
morning, “Why did I dream that?”
The fictional dream may reveal the answers to some of these
perplexing questions. Are not most of our stories borne out of the frailness of our human nature, our fall from grace, our
sinful condition, and our hope for resolution? Like stardust from a star, even a child knows fear, worry, pain, sadness, and
death, and the fictional dream can promise insightful answers. We write as a lover woos his mistress, convincing the reader
to discard his logical thinking and embrace our creativity. We ask him to risk embarking on this fabulous journey that has
become our fictional dream. Can we offer hope of escape from reality, even redemption? The choice is ours. If I was possessed,
I could present a terrifying world of despair and hopelessness. As Gardner points out, however, be careful. The written word
can’t be erased easily from a sensate individual’s memory. Our words will live on in books long past our existence
on this rock suspended in space. We possess the power of demigods from hell or messengers from God. How we touch the lives
of those around us, even many years into the future, for good or evil, comes from deep within us.
Let us
not disappoint. May we give the reader the roller coaster ride of a lifetime, with all the thrills he hoped for; and then
surprise him with more. Let’s not waste the opportunity or gift of writing God has shared with us. As an author hoping
to emulate the Greatest, let us begin our journey with one word, and then another, and then another, as an artist draws on
a canvas, until the fictional dream becomes a masterpiece. And hopefully, the reader will say, “That was good. I wish
I had more to read,” close the book, and relive the fictional dream.
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