Wednesday, January 26, 2011

thoughts on story craft and hank the cowdog


"When I took this job as Head of Ranch Security, I knew that I was only flesh and blood, four legs, a tail, a couple of ears, a pretty nice kind of nose that the women really go for, two bushels of hair and another half-bushel of Mexican sandburs. You add that all up and you don't get Superman, just me, good old easy-going Hank who works hard, tries to do his job, and gets very little cooperation from anyone else around here." – The Original Adventures of Hank the Cowdog

“Only the Maker of galaxies would have thought to give mankind such a marvelous gift as a dog.” – John R. Erickson, Story Craft


One of the most helpful books on Christian writing I’ve ever read is Story Craft by John R. Erickson. Ever heard of the Hank the Cowdog series? Same author. Never heard of Hank? Now that’s a tragedy. You can learn more about Hank at the author’s website, and a little bit more about him right here.

The Hank books center on the adventures (or misadventures) of Hank and his buddy Drover, two dogs who live on a ranch with their (human) family and constantly get themselves into hilarious scrapes. Any one who has ever owned or loved a dog will cherish these books. They are funny, memorable, and “true to the essence of dog.” They are also very nourishing to the soul, and deeply Christian at their core – even though the salvation message is never mentioned, and Hank is certainly no preacher.

In Story Craft, Erickson describes his approach to writing, shares his thoughts on the vocation of writing (especially in relation to faith and contemporary culture), and offers practical advice to younger writers. He is very resistant toward pop culture—more specifically, toward its rejection of structure, moral order, and art as nourishment. Stories are to strengthen the soul as bread or water strengthens the body; they are not to poison the reader with despair, chaos, and emptiness. Story Craft reminds us that the best stories are ones that uphold the structure of a universe created by all-wise and all-wonderful God, a God who is the source of all that is good and pure and strong, and yes, a God who is the source of all beauty, joy and laughter. (Who else could have thought up a dog?)

As Dr. Gene Veith reminds us in the introduction to Story Craft, “The purpose of every vocation…is to love and serve our neighbors. […] A writer is supposed to love and serve his readers.” [xi] But Erickson is also resistant toward mediocre, didactic, “Christian” literature that confuses the role of storytelling with the role of preaching. Both might deal with the “structure of the universe” and ultimately point to the same conclusion, but they must travel separate routes:

But Hank never talks about Jesus, some might object, as if dogs were objects of salvation. Mr. Erickson’s vocation is not one of preaching. The Christianity in these stories is not on the surface. It is deeper down. The very structure and the craft of his storytelling: the nature, and human nature, and animal nature that he writes about; and the moral truths that even his dogs have to deal with are in accord with the reality that God created. Consequently, as he points out in this book, though his stories do not have a religious content, they have a religious effect. [xiii]

That isn’t to say that good stories can’t have religious content. But when it comes to storytelling, it is much more effective to show truth than to simply insert moral truths into the mouth of a talking head and leave it at that. A story that is “sentimental and dull, with characters who speak in soft tones and smile all the time,” is a bad story—even if it exhorts the audience “to think on the things that are true, honest, just, pure, lovely, virtuous, and worthy of praise.” [101] These things are the very “things” that make good stories so nourishing and worthwhile, and yet good storytelling requires an approach that is different from good preaching. Showing – not telling – is the key here. The Hank books set a good example:

[x] The animals, as in the time-honored fables that go back to Aesop, remind us of people, including ourselves. Hank’s constant temptation to eat the chickens illuminates our own temptations. Hank’s pride is completely counterbalanced by his shortcomings. When we laugh at Hank’s blustery ego, we are missing the point if we aren’t also laughing at ourselves…[1]

101. “Hank wants to be a good dog, but he’s involved in a constant struggle with his nature: a short attention span, food lust, and an exalted opinion of his role as Head of Ranch Security. He’s a sinner. Sometimes he rises to heroism but he doesn’t stay there long. That describes every dog I’ve known. It also has some very funny parallels with the human condition.”[2]


This is a topic we’ve touched on before, and it is important. But Story Craft covers plenty of other ground as well. If you find yourself in need of good solid advice on writing, consult Story Craft. I trust you have heard some of these rules before: Good writing is clear, not obscure; active, not passive; deals with the specific rather than the general. Moreover, good writers “learn by writing.” They revise and polish. They discipline themselves to perfect their craft. But they also have something to say, and this requires that “Before we write, we should live.”

If you want to write, you must have something to write about. And if you want to write about “life,” you must first experience it. It doesn’t do to hide in the attic, you know (my lifelong temptation) – how will you ever find material for stories? You have to go out there and get it. Keep your eyes open, wherever you are, and observe; get involved in life; interact with people; contemplate God’s creation; pursue knowledge; seek God’s face.

That ought to spark something!

Story Craft is a book I highly recommend. I have only touched on a few of its topics, but there’s much, much more that Erickson has to offer. The book is divided into three parts: 1) “One Writer’s Journey”; 2) “Faith, Culture, and the Craft of Writing”; and 3) “The Top Twenty: If I Were Teaching a Class on Writing.” Interested? Check out his website here. And if you have the time and opportunity, I’d definitely encourage you to buy or borrow a copy of Story Craft sometime. Definitely a worthwhile resource for a serious Christian writer.


[1] Gene Veith in the introduction to Story Craft: Reflections on Faith, Culture & Writing From the Author of Hank the Cowdog by John R. Erickson (Perryton: Maverick Books, Inc, 2009), x.
[2] Interview with John R. Erickson by Susan Olasky, World Magazine, December 2, 2006, pp. 26-7 (quoted in Story Craft).

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

a writer's resources


Hello again. :-) I’m glad to be back at PHC, back into the swing of things! I do apologize for missing last week’s post. In the bustle of extended travel and a late arrival on campus, it just didn’t happen. :-/

So far, we’ve discussed topics such as the Christian imagination, didacticism, writer’s block, etc. While we may touch again on some of these topics in the future, I think from now until the end of the contest we will focus more on highlighting helpful resources that are available to the Christian writer (indeed, any writer). One idea is to interview various creative writers from the PHC circle – students, alumni, possibly professors – and ascertain what resources best helped them nourish their creativity and hone their skill as writers. Interested? Please feel free to jump in and list your own favorite resources—the more, the merrier.

And now, our first interview!

Name: Mary Sue 
Class: Soph...no, Junior. I think.
Major/Degree: LITERATURE!!!!
Favorite book: Gaudy Night by Dorothy L. Sayers is usually in the top three. :D

What encouraged you to start writing fiction in the first place? 

    Books!! I love stories, and there are a lot of wonderful stories still waiting to be given a voice!  

What technical books or resources (essays, articles, lectures, journals, etc.) have most enabled you to improve your writing skills? 

    It would be an absolute betrayal if I didn't here mention the A Beka Language curriculum! I had the privilege of being homeschooled up through high school and my parents used straight A Beka for me. The rote memorization drove me batty sometimes, but I can now see how that has benefited me. Somehow, it sticks!! Knowing the ins and outs of grammar and composition before striking out on one's own as a writer helps the author to be versatile - to know what works and what doesn't.

        Second, there is the Institute for Excellence in Writing. For several years, my sister and I and a number of fellow homeschoolers watched and worked through Andrew Pudewa's writing course. Although one should be careful in using his writing forms for collegiate work, I found that his course really helped me develop a personal, individual style of writing. His teaching definitely taught me to vary my sentences!
    Thirdly, here at school my literature professor and advisor, Dr. Steven Hake, had us read several of his own essays in our Western Literature I course last year. His essays were really beneficial in teaching me about the ethos and logos of storywriting - the heart of the matter, so to speak.

Which works of literature have most encouraged you, inspired you, and/or taught you how to write?
 
    Ooooh, I like this question :). 

    Naturally, I begin with the Bible. From a strictly literary viewpoint the Bible has so many strengths. It combines the very best of fiction with an absolute reality for something I like to call "the luxury of absolutes." How amazing it is that the seeds and the truths and all that is beautiful in fiction, in poetry, in action, history, story, and CHARACTERS find their locus in the Bible! The solidity of such a foundation in what is grounded reality has given me something to write and to understand things from. For the longest time, I felt crippled when it came to experience in writing - what do I know of love and grief and strength and pain and courage and heartache? But in one of his essays Dr. Hake said something that really struck me. He said that our experience as writers is found at least partly in the Bible. As something we hold nearer and dearer to us than anything else, what more can one understand of love and sacrifice besides Christ's death and resurrection for us? Use that knowledge to draw from.

    Secondly: once upon a time - oh, about twelve years or so ago, a kindly librarian introduced me to Dorothy L. Sayers, the incomparable, the magnificent, the talented, the absolutely splendid Christian apologist and creator of my favorite aristocratic detective, Lord Peter Wimsey, and his detective novelist wife Harriet. I fell in love with Lord Peter. Sayers had crafted a character whose stories are full of layers of complexity. Sayers was an incredibly literate woman who regularly referenced classical literature and poetry; had snippets and whole passages in Latin, Greek, and French; and knew her classics, music, and history very well. Now, whenever I revisit her stories I always find something new - whether an illuminating passage from Donne that I just read or a phrase here or there in Latin that I can only just translate. Add to that incredible wit and taste and you might be able to get a sense of what kind of woman she was. Or you could just start reading :). 

       And as any other good homeschooler, I must acknowledge my debt to my beloved Tolkien. Under duress, I will admit that yes, perhaps to the uninitiated, his descriptive passages are a bit of a slog. But the world he created and the characters he populated it with are truly beautiful. Tolkien taught me the impact of the bittersweet and the importance of virtue and revering knowledge and history, as in the fading of the Dunedain, the passing of Beleriand and the West, the loss of Boromir and Denethor, and the fading of the Elves. However, all that is set against the backdrop of the unbelieving joy of toppling Sauron and I think it reflects life so beautifully; the frailty of man tempered with the victories of Christ and that ultimate sacrifice of His that ends in such joy for us. When I think of Tolkien the characteristic that comes to mind is Beauty - a real goddess, not just the Greek ideal, who finds beauty in both the sweet and the bitter. Maybe Grace is the better word. But this is the quality I really desire to attain in my stories - the half-wistful, half-hoping attitude that finds the beauty in, and accepts, every circumstance it finds itself in.

    But I'm beginning to ramble, so I'll just stop with this: Soli Deo Gloria!

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

writing as an act of worship


Well, we’ve reached the (approximate) midpoint. In a couple months the judges will have made their final decisions, and the contest will come to a close – but before that happens, I want to give you a chance to have your own questions about writing (and its connection to Christianity) answered. Are there any topics or questions you would like us to explore on this blog during the remaining half of the competition? Post them in the comment section, and we’ll be happy to explore these issues further.

So far, we’ve covered a few larger themes on this blog: writing as a vocation, dealing with writer’s block, writing Christian fiction, and so on. Today’s topic is similar. A friend and fellow PHC student, Alicia Constant, explores writing as a specifically spiritual calling. While we’ve touched on this before, Alicia draws out new facets to consider, and I definitely think you’ll enjoy them. :-)

Alicia’s article, “Writing as an Act of Worship,” is the second post in a series on her blog, A Beautiful Ordinary.

Writing as an Act of Worship

By Alicia Constant

What is writing? In its strictest sense, writing expresses meaning through symbols that represent language. Writing is communication and creation, expression of ideas in some form more permanent than the spoken word.

Good writing, on the other hand, is much more difficult to define. Critics have haggled over definitions and opinions for centuries, probably since the dawn of written language. And, aside from the mechanical quality of the writing, what about the ideas behind it? Must good writing, by necessity, reflect the good, the true, and the beautiful? Or can masterfully crafted writing that communicates the antitheses of God’s truth still be considered “good”?

Either way, the ability to create with language is a reflection of God’s image. Though He could have created the world some other way, He chose to use language: “Let there be light.” (Genesis 1:3) God reveals Himself to us through His written word, which, aside from its perfect, divinely inspired nature, is also a work of intense literary beauty. As I was reading Job 38 this morning, I was struck by the powerful imagery of the language that God uses: the waters become “hard like stone” at His command, the seas “burst out from the womb” and are clothed with clouds and darkness. In his book God at Work, Dr. Gene Edward Veith describes our creative works as “an imitation of God’s work, a participation in God’s creation and His creativity…. these are what God does, and yet God gives them as tasks to human beings.” (God at Work, p. 62)

Our attempts to wield the written word are finite, and, of course, can never measure up to His perfection. We are created beings; thus, our ability to create is limited by both our lack of knowledge and our fallen nature. He has made everything, and without Him, nothing was made (John 1). Our most original creations are dim reflections of His artistry. Nevertheless, He gave us the ability to create for a purpose.
The main point I’m trying to communicate is this: Writing is a deeply spiritual calling. It’s not something to take lightly or treat selfishly. As writers, we should use the tool of language to create something beautiful.
Ultimately, our purpose returns to glorifying and worshiping the Divine Author, Jesus Christ. None of the glory we attain from our “works of literary excellence” should belong to us. Psalm 115:1 says, “Not to us, LORD, not to us, but to Your name be the glory, because of Your love and faithfulness.” What we write as Christians ultimately reflects on Christ. Our goal should be to know Him more, and as we grow in that knowledge, to help others see Him more clearly.

How can we accomplish this goal to the best of our ability? In other words, what makes writing good? I’ll leave you with this quote from C.S. Lewis: “There is but one good; that is God. Everything else is good when it looks to Him and bad when it turns from Him.”

Questions to consider:

a. How seriously do you take your calling as a writer? If you took it more seriously, what would that change, if anything?
b. What do you believe are the qualities of good writing?
c. How can you make your writing an act of worship to God?

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

thoughts on "story"


Last week in her article, Dr. Libby raised a point that bears repeating. As Christian writers determined to “do all for the glory of God,” we may be tempted to “get our point across” by explicitly stating the moral of our story or by quoting a plethora of Bible verses in our story. Of course it is imperative to live uprightly and to constantly nourish one’s soul through Scripture—but a story must first of all be a story, not a thinly-disguised piece of didactic advice or moral instruction.

This doesn’t mean your stories can’t be Christian (even explicitly), or that your work cannot plumb the depths of ethics and theology in detail.[1] It does mean that this Christian element must be natural to the story; must arise from it, instead of being tacked on to it; must have power and substance in itself, and not rely on Scriptural quotations or witty proverbs to back it up.[2] (After all – if your story relies upon such gimmicks, why should someone read it at all? Wouldn’t it be far better for your readers to consult the original source – the very life-giving Word of God?)

And in all honesty, I think this is very freeing. It allows you to explore the fantastic realms of your imagination without first setting an agenda for yourself – which is one of the quickest ways to kill off the spirit of a story. Anyway, if this Christian element “bubbles out” of the story itself, as Lewis suggested, it is far more likely to plumb the depths of Christian thought than a purely didactic story. It is also more likely to have a lasting (and positive) impression or influence upon your readers.

But that’s enough of my jabber. Below are concrete examples of what I am talking about. Neither of them reference God or are explicitly didactic, but they are inherently Christian, quite relevant to our day to day thought and conduct, and deeply moving.

From The Princess and the Goblin (by George MacDonald)

Context: The two protagonists, Princess Irene and the miner boy Curdie, are attempting to escape out of the mountain where the goblins had imprisoned Curdie. Irene was able to find and rescue Curdie because she followed a magical thread which led her into the mountain and is now leading her out again.

“I told you already,” answered Irene; --“by keeping my finger upon my grandmother’s thread, as I am doing now.”
“You don’t mean you’ve got the thread there?”
“Of course I do. I have told you so ten times already. I have hardly – except when I was removing the stones – taken my finger off it. There!” she added, guiding Curdie’s hand to the thread; “you feel it yourself—don’t you?”
“I feel nothing at all,” replied Curdie.
“Then what can be the matter with your finger? I feel it perfectly. To be sure it is very thin, and in the sunlight looks just like the thread of a spider, though there are many of them twisted together to make it—but for all that I can’t think why you shouldn’t feel it as well as I do.”
Curdie was too polite to say he did not believe there was any thread there at all. […The thread leads them out of the mountain.]
“Now, Curdie!” she cried, “won’t you believe what I told you about my grandmother and her thread?”
For she had felt all the time that Curdie was not believing what she told him.
“There! – don’t you see it shining on before us?” she added.
“I don’t see anything,” persisted Curdie.
“Then you must believe without seeing,” said the princess, “for you can’t deny it has brought us out of the mountain.”

Moral: One might sum up the “moral” in a few phrases: faith is what is unseen; faith is reasonable, founded on evidence; faith increases sight and disbelief instills blindness.

From The Silver Chair (by C. S. Lewis)

Context: After entering the magical world of Narnia for the first time, Jill Pole is separated from her companion (Eustace Scrubb) and, becoming extremely thirsty, encounters an enormous lion (Aslan) beside the stream where she stops to drink. Scrubb knows Aslan, but Jill does not.

            “Are you not thirsty?” said the Lion.
            “I’m dying of thirst,” said Jill.
            “Then drink,” said the Lion.
            “May I—could I—would you mind going away while I do?” said Jill.
            The Lion answered this only by a look and a very low growl. And as Jill gazed at its motionless bulk, she realized that she might as well have asked the whole mountain to move aside for her convenience.
            “Will you promise not to—do anything to me if I do come?” said Jill.
            “I make no promise,” said the Lion.
            Jill was so thirsty now that, without noticing it, she had come a step nearer.
            “Do you eat girls?” she said.
            “I have swallowed up girls and boys, women and men, kings and emperors, cities and realms,” said the Lion. It didn’t say this as if it were boasting, nor as if it were sorry, nor as if it were angry. It just said it.
            “I daren’t come and drink,” said Jill.
            “Then you will die of thirst,” said the Lion.
            “O dear!” said Jill, coming another step nearer. “I suppose I must go and look for another stream then.”
            “There is no other stream,” said the Lion.

Moral: There is only one way to be saved, and that is through Christ. God is not “safe,” but we must trust Him.  

Now, which did you find more interesting: the excerpts from the novels, or my interpretations of them? Which would you rather spend time thinking about? Which would you rather “have more” of?

The excerpts, surely! That’s what I thought. :-)


[1] Lewis certainly did! Think of The Screwtape Letters—better yet, if you haven’t read it, pick up a copy from the library or a nearby bookshop. It will both astound you and enrich your soul.

[2] Of course, there’s an exception to everything: while your story should have its own power and “substance” instead of relying on Bible verses, it isn’t always “bad”or un-literary to quote such verses. You’ll find verses and allusions to Scripture heavily sprinkled throughout many of the best and most beautiful works of literature ever written. The catch is that you must tell your own story, and not rely upon other quotes to give it depth. Use Scripture as a supplement if you like, but tell your own story.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

"writing good stories"

Hello, all. Here is Dr. Libby's article, as promised. :-) Let me know what you guys think!

Enjoy!

Writing Good Stories
By Dr. Bonnie Libby

First of all, know the fundamentals of good narrative practice.  That is, know what goes in to telling a good story, one that will capture the interest of readers with unexpected plot turns, full and interesting character development, enough vivid description to set the tone of the story and lend it a note of reality, and dialogue that fits the characters and advances both the plot and “feel” of the story.

Modern author George Saunders proposes a theory about novel writers, and I think we can apply this to writers of short stories, too.  In his introduction to the Modern Library edition of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Saunders proposes a narrative theory about Mark Twain’s novel that uses the metaphor of a PeopleMover (you know, those moving beltways at the airport that make you feel like you are walking really fast).  Saunders writes:

Imagine the novelist as a person standing at one end of a PeopleMover, with a shovel, in front of a big pile of dirt.  The Pile of dirt represents The Thing This Writer Loves to Do, and Does Naturally.  The writer started writing so that he or she could endlessly and effortlessly do this thing and nothing else—be funny, say, or verbally brilliant, or write lush nature vignettes, or detailed descriptions of the interiors of rich people’s houses—and then be declared Wonderful, and buy a nicer car.  But all writers soon find that their Dirt is not enough.  Yes, their readership stands at the far end of the PeopleMover, eagerly awaiting this Dirt, but if the writer simply dumps shovelful after shovelful of Dirt onto the PeopleMover, the PeopleMover grinds to a halt, and the readership walks away to see a movie.[1]

You can tell that Saunders is a humorist himself, and that he admires Twain’s humor (his “Dirt”) and appreciates as much of it as he can get.  However, Saunders knows that Twain’s readers need something more—they need a story, a narrative with causes and effects, events that are surprising but not random.  A good story is what moves things along and allows the writer to “shovel out” that which he most likes to write, be it humor, description, or even, as some of you may want to write, Big Important Ideas.

You may be tempted to start with a theme based on the prompts for A Call to Pens, which is all well and good, but remember to keep your story first.  Human beings like stories because that form reflects life itself, the reality in which we live.  Certainly we each experience our share of “twists and turns” for which we may not see an immediate reason, but nevertheless the human story—history—is one of causes and effects, with a beginning and an ending, both for individuals and for humanity on earth.  There is purpose in our existence, plain and simple.  Much modern literature denies this purpose, denying the causality of life, and therefore killing good narrative.  We as Christians have a chance to redeem narrative, to restore stories to their honored place as truth-bearers: “The narratives we encounter in epic poems, in plays, and in novels are anything but fanciful alternatives to real life.  The fact is that we never get away from stories.  In and out of literature, stories tell us who we are and what we might become.”[2] 

We may categorize life into abstractions like Love, Hate, War, Peace, and even Faith and Redemption, but until we relate stories that demonstrate those abstractions, that show them being lived out, we do not access the reality behind them.  The Bible itself is a narrative—a true one—that shows us God’s ways and character.  We may consider God’s patient lovingkindness, but until we read of His care for the complaining Israelites wandering forty years in the desert, we don’t understand it fully.  We may think we know about His grace, but until we read the Gospel accounts of Jesus’ excruciating death on the cross, we cannot grasp it.

These are all true stories.  What about fictional stories?  Well, they must have the same elements:

--Realistic characters with human flaws but also potential for nobility or love or kindness.  Think of stories you like and the kinds of characters they contain: Elizabeth Bennett with her good sense but her tendency to misread people, or Huckleberry Finn with his funny disdain of civilization but his well-meaning heart and growing moral consciousness. This is not to say that all characters must be human; readers love Bilbo Baggins with his initial timidity but increasing response to the call of adventure.

--A plot that moves along and involves some kind of important conflict, either interpersonal or with an external force or, most likely, within an individual.  The best stories contain more than one kind of conflict.  Think of Sydney Carton embroiled in the bloody French Revolution, but also waging a war within himself against drunken apathy but that ultimately results in sacrifice.

--Causes and effects.  The Count of Monte Cristo becomes a wealthy man not through randomness, but rather a combination of determination, hard work, and, yes, a bit of luck in happening upon the old priest in prison, but why was Edmond Dantes in prison?  Because some bad men frame him out of jealousy.  And why were they jealous?  Because Edmond has the love of a beautiful woman and a promising naval career.  You get the idea--events in the plot don’t just happen.  Authors have a world full of human actions and reactions to draw from; in real life, one person’s success very often does elicit both adulation and jealousy from others, and wicked deeds naturally cause the desire for revenge, unless something else intervenes, something like love or grace in the form of human relationships.  There is room for coincidence in a fictional narrative, just as there is in life, but most major events must be related causally.

--Story structure.  Most stories follow the usual pattern of beginning, middle, and end or, more technically, rising action, climax, and falling action.  But consider playing with the order of events using flashbacks or flashforwards.  Create suspense by jumping to another scene right when the first scene is  building up to a climax.  Tell a story within a story, where the narrator listens to another character narrate a story, then return to the “present.”  This could take up the whole story or just be an episode.  Play around with narrative point of view: tell the same episode from the perspective of two different characters, alternate narrators throughout the story . . . you get the idea!

--All the rest.  Of course, don’t forget vivid and fresh description, realistic yet interesting dialogue, scenes made memorable by facial gestures, body language, and all the other ways that humans communicate with one another.  It’s the little touches, sometimes, that make a good story great. Stories are meant to be concrete, alive with detail.  But if your plot is weak, uninteresting, or untrue, no amount of embellishment will save the story. 

And the truth we want to relate as writers is so important that working hard on the form it takes is worth all the effort.  C. S. Lewis began his immensely popular series The Chronicles of Narnia not with a moral that he worked to relate to his readers, but with a picture.  He says:

Some people seem to think that I began by asking myself how I could say something about Christianity to children; then fixed on the fairy tale as an instrument; then collected information about child-psychology and decided what age-group I’d write for; then drew up a list of basic Christian truths and hammered out ‘allegories’ to embody them.  This is all pure moonshine.  I couldn’t write in that way at all.  Everything began with images; a faun  carrying an umbrella, a queen on a sledge, a magnificent lion.  At first there wasn’t even anything Christian about them; that element pushed itself in of its own accord.  It was part of the bubbling.[3]

So take Lewis’s advice: don’t begin with a moral and try to build your story around it.  Tell a good story, and the moral will come out.  Write characters and events that interest you, that capture your imagination; chances are you will find some readers who share your preferences.  Keep that PeopleMover of plot moving along, while you merrily dish out striking images or humor or dramatic dialogue or whatever you like.  Avoid the clichés of “Christianese” by using realistic language and events.  Tell a story you would like to hear, not one that you think your audience should hear.  Pay attention to details, but remember to have fun!


[1] George Saunders, introduction to the Modern Library edition of Adventures of Huckleberry Finn (New York: Random House, 2001), x.
[2] Susan V. Gallagher and Roger Lundin, Literature Through the Eyes of Faith (New York: HarperCollins for Christian College Coalition, 1989), 30.
[3] C.S. Lewis, “Sometimes Fairy Stories May Say Best What’s to Be Said,” in On Stories and Other Essays on Literature, ed. Walter Hooper (New York: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1966, 1982), 46.

Monday, December 20, 2010

just a quick update

Just in case you have not noticed, the guidelines page has finally been updated. You can access the online submissions form there or here.

Also, I missed last Tuesday's post in the flurry of leaving school for Christmas break, but I shall post the article this coming Tuesday, tomorrow. It was written by one of my very own literature professors, Dr. Bonnie Libby, and I think you will really enjoy it and get a lot "out of" it. She is a wonderful professor, just so you know. :)

Merry Christmas to you all!

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

a question for you

I hope you all enjoyed Dr. Hake’s essay last week! If you didn’t get a chance to read it, I would definitely recommend looking it over. It’s tightly packed with invaluable insight you won’t want to miss, and quite readable. It might seem a bit long, but I promise you it’s worth it.

Anyway, I think it’s time for me to answer a couple of questions posted on the blog several days ago. Celerina asked:  

Can you please elaborate on the contest guidelines requiring self-editing? What sort of helps would I be allowed to receive from my parents or friends that would not violate this guideline?

It’s a somewhat tricky question, because there’s often a fine line between what is acceptable and what is not. In some circumstances you just have to use your discretion. It is fine for a friend or parent to proofread your manuscript for technical mistakes (typos, glaring inconsistencies, etc.). But the story itself has to be your own: no one can write it for you. No one else can decide your plot, invent your characters, or structure your story. Friends and parents can give minor suggestions here and there, but try to keep their advice to a minimum.

SoulsforChrist7 asked:

Miss Richey,

I wanted to ask a question about one of the hints.

“2. Edit and revise several times before you submit. Clarity of style and grammatical excellence are both a “must.””

I just don’t quite understand this. If these things are “musts” then why have many of the winning entries of past years not shown this. I just don’t understand. If you don’t really judge by this what do you judge by? Thanks so much for organizing this contest, I always enjoy it.

Lulu

Ouch. Hmm…that’s definitely worth looking into. Thank you for raising the point! To clarify, though, let me say that clarity of style and grammatical excellence are “musts” in that they are highly preferred, and they definitely do matter to the judges. However, the stories are judged for other qualities as well – originality, strength of theme, realism of presentation, and so forth. If some winning entries have not always exhibited grammatical excellence in the past, then they must have excelled over other entries significantly in some other area. However, winning entries are almost always more grammatically accurate than other entries: a few typos won’t wreck your chances, but consistent violation of the basic rules of grammar will do so.

And finally, several people have inquired whether historical fiction is an appropriate genre for this contest. This answer is: Yes. :-) You may write in any genre you choose. 

And now, I have a question for you. Consider the following quote:

"Poorly written novels - no matter how pious and edifying the behavior of the characters - are not good in themselves and therefore not really edifying." - Flannery O'Connor, Mystery and Manners

Do you agree? Disagree? Can you think of any specific books that might fall under O’Connor’s condemnation here? (I can.) We’ll touch on this next week, but in the meantime, what do you guys think?