Why is it so easy to write bad news, and so tough to write GOOD NEWS

Nearing final call for July OXFORD CREATIVE WRITING MASTER CLASS

INKBLOTS—easy to write bad news, tough to write GOOD NEW. Six ‘Blots tonight (Rachel Haas joining us for the second time), a few tied up with finals and logistics. 

Last week Doug Mc assigned us to push the refresh button and write something new. Like diligent students of the craft, hardly any of us did this, yet he remains patient with us all (we hope). Btw, libation: Indian Wells ’08, thanks John S.

Patrick led off sharing about some of his struggles with writer’s block, but on a deeper level: how to write the good? He finds it easy to be cynical, dark, portray the evil, but intensely difficult to find a redemptive voice, to write well and write the good. I feel like I’m hearing the integration of writing and life here. Here are snatches from his opening remarks: Increased knowledge in a fallen world means that, outside of grace and the maturity it produces in redeemed sinners, we misuse knowledge and artistic skills to glorify the self rather than to glorify God. So, how to write speculative fiction (space, horror, zombie, etc) to the glory of God. So Patrick is saying that we prefer to return to innocence rather than press on to maturity. This is quite a perceptive summation of what God is teaching him as he writes. Reading James White and Christian apologetics, shaping his ideas. 

Patrick begins with a space station setting, female commander, on the horns of a dilemma, but one in which she knew what she needed to do (like most, or is it all, dilemmas?). Why the name Dogwood? It reminds me of Shakespeare’s Dogberry in Much Ado About Nothing. Good descriptive language; I feel like I can see most of what you describe. You mentioned pungent odor. Could you give specific smells to things? Are their electronic components overheating, sending the nauseating smell of burning wire insulation wafting around the control center. I was unprepared for the female angel with the sword mowing like weeds (a bit cliché). I admit that I have never been a fan of sci-fi so it is more difficult for me, not wanting to criticize genre (or expose my inability to understand it) more than your writing of the genre, to constructively comment. Jade zealot sounded like a scene from Revelation. She is not a divine being so John was okay with her giving up her sword. Doug Mc asked where it was in the story: the beginning. Bob says he is an old guy and it takes a while to figure out how things come together. Patrick assured us that at the end of the story the pieces would come together. Dave K commented that lots of what he reads is like this. 

Bob is going to read a short story he wrote some time ago and entered in a writing contest (and lost) and then lost the story. This is his rewriting of the original story. Insofar as Tacoma has a heart—great line. Bob is writing to his strength here, humor the Rogland way, unaffected sophistication in a down-home, let’s-have-a-good-belly-laugh sort of fashion. Biker with tattoos, works of art that Michelangelo would appreciate. But let's see a specific, and symbolic maybe, tattoo. Avoid overusing what happened. Good use of bad grammar for your bikers. The dialogue with the tattoo artist little guy at the bar crying seemed a bit over written. Give us tattoo specifics. There was discussion about biker language, several of these chumps knowing far too much about the subject. Discussion of tattoos followed. Doug mc recollected that the one time his dad really yelled at him was when he announced that he was going to get one. So Doug mc has no tattoos--so he told us, but I didn't notice him baring his arms to prove it. Rachel shared with us about not having piercings (excessive ones) in her ears because she ran into a Pole (not a Czeck, not a Bulgarian, but a Pole). Book idea for Rachel. Through whose eyes are we experiencing the world? Not clear, though Bob explained that it would be the distressed tattoo artist.

John S read something fresh (he wrote it four years ago). Journalist coming up on hard times. Slight squeak. Use a simile, that sounded like a… He shoved his bag off… How about, Shoving his bag off his shoulder, he… then have him do something else. Beginning the sentence with a participial phrase avoids the subject-verb-object syntax trap. Avoid redundancy, opening biscotti package with his mouth and the help from his teeth; you don’t gain anything by this. Be concise. I don’t care what you think, Patrick—all in fun. We do care. That’s why we’re all here. 

Dave here for the first time in a year! Welcome back. He read from the mountain trail assassination yarn (Patrick remembered this from over a year ago), a sequel to his other book, Brothers at Odds. Do you use italics for his internal thoughts in first person? You should. The story is in third person but with many first person thoughts. The newly engaged couple don’t seem very close, stiff and impersonal. Is this the way it’s supposed to be? Would she call her fiancée “Buddy-boy”? You seem to use little too much, little, little, little; use little just a little. Try doing a find and replace and use better adjective, or eliminate as not needed. Just as he was about to propose, Joshua (but it’s Steven the assassin) pops out of the trees aiming both guns at them. I was hoping for a better fight, you said twice in a few lines. The going into the thoughts of each character is confusing. Which one is Steve, which one is Bruce, which one is Joshua? Jumped out of the car and pulled a rifle from the trunk and shot the ranger.

Dougie Mc reads a historical comedy, the introduction. Post-Crusades-esque but mythical setting, but about 1270, twenty years before the fall of Acre. The Knights of Outremer, old battlefields strewn with bones and broken weapons—good tight description. Good description. It feels large, Tolkien-like. I keep wanting to see this through the eyes of one of the characters, a flesh-and-blood protagonist. Who is it? It reads more like a descriptive essay, a good one, but I need to know who of all this array of knights which one I should care about. Rachel asked what the over-arching purpose of the yarn is? Is it a critique of the Crusades? Dougie says no. Going to avoid the controversy. Why not intentionally offer another perspective to the politically correct dismissal of the Crusades?

I read last from Scene 13 of the pilot episode for the Drama of the Reformation. The moment when the imperial herald calls Hus and promises him safe-conduct to the Council of Constance.

I'd like to offer a brief answer to the title of this post, why we find it so much easier to describe a bad guy than a good one, why bad news sells more newspapers than good news, why portraying a gritty ugly character comes easier than an upstanding handsome one. Our portrayals of good guys so often are sentimental, unreal, out of sync with the putrid reality of sin and corruption that encircles and sometimes allures us in a broken world. The redemptive seems like the unreal world of super heroes, an escapist's  world, not the way things actually are. In a broken world, marred so deeply by our sin and rebellion against our perfect, holy Creator, we struggle writing about the good because we in part are believing the lie that the eyes of sight sell us everyday. Cynics cannot write the best material (apologies to Ambrose Bierce), though they may make a good living trying, and make it on best seller lists. Why? Because it isn't the whole story. It isn't actually true. 

Redemption is true. This is the great advantage of the Christian writer. We know the whole story. By God's grace we've been brought to know the truth that the bad news is not the end of the story, that the mud and grit of this fallen place is not all there is, is not what God originally created the world to look like, to be like. We know this. We believe this... well, most of the time. 

There's the rub. Lord, help our unbelief. We will never write our best with our heart half cocked. What a tragedy when the professing Christian writer believes the literary elitist's imposed priorities, and contorts his pen to ape them, caving under the lash of critics, squandering his gifts writing about the slums of un-redemptive unreality. In our writing we can never rise above the lie that sin and ugliness is more appealing than righteousness and holiness until we truly believe it ourselves. And when we do we will never write sentimental rubbish and declare it Christian literature. The Christian writer writes with visceral longing for the return of the King, every sentence trembling with yearning, every phrase savory with wonder, every word pointing to the Word.     

INKBLOTS--What to do when someone doesn't like what you write

Writing and hunting turkey

'Blots: five of us on this chilly autumn evening, fire on the grate, Pinot Noir in the glass, and convivial work to be done. Patrick leads off with a short story, a space travel, Martian sci-fi yarn. Though this is not my preferred genre, P certainly does write with ease and intentionality. Ray Bradbury did a series of sci-fi short stories like this. Gene Wolfe is a favorite sci-fi author that P likes to read and finds inspiration from reading him (we all have authors that do this for us). How to write what you want and sell what you write, a book Skip Press P recommends, he reads to find helpful instruction in the craft of writing.

Doug Mc suggested I read otherwise than last, as usual. I explained some of the challenges I have faced with criticism of this manuscript, then I read from chapter 31 of HAMMER OF THE HUGUENOTS, the climactic rescue of Pierre Viret. There's always something to glean from critics, even when they don't get it right; they have still helped unearth areas where the piece can be improved. Alan commented about my use of toilet as an alternate to garderobe and the suggestion was that toilet is too modern and latrine might be better. Alan liked the wheelbarrow passing over different surfaces and the effect on Philippe concealed in the wheelbarrow. Maybe the beginning of the chapter may be a bit slow and could be tightened. I'll give serious consideration to that. Thanks, gents.

John reads from French Cousins. This is a warm grandfatherly narration of the life of his grandchildren, both American and French. John has done a wonderful job of giving us his grandchildren's perspective on fun things, in this case, Proctor Treats, free candy, all you can eat. I can see and hear more of the children bantering back and forth. John is using some fabrication--I would prefer to call it projection and combination--to give the children the ability to speak when they may have been too young to speak or to use the vocabulary he gives them. Pirate speak.

Alan takes us back to St Brendan and the 9th century. Alan is working on two ancient tales, 1st century prose but tonight its 9th century blank verse (unrhymed iambic pentameter). Ancient Irish tale, bring on the corned beef and cabbage (and boiled potatoes). Celtic Church, not connected to the RC church in any meaningful way. Mernoc walking on the water, blind, holding a lantern, living on a rocky island off the coast of Ireland. He and Brendan row to the promised land, like heaven. The Navigatio, in Latin. Brendan's navigation. Brendan makes a prophecy that three can join him in the boat but for two it will end badly. I love watching Alan, a dentist by day, as he sits on the edge of the love seat, holding his laptop cradled in his arms, enthusiasm in his tone and radiating on his face--I feel like this is what 'Blots is about at its very best. the Imago Dei, we, image bearers of God, we, different and diverse in genre, like giddy children--agitated and eager, lisping and laughing, awed and wondering--imitate our Creator with imaginative words woven together to delight each other. It doesn't get much better than this. This is so Beowulf! I feel like we are in the mead hall, the horn passing, the harp not far behind. Alan has been reading Lewis on narrative poetry--it shows.

Dougie Mc reads from his post-war tale, his characters in Georgia, late sixties, Vietnam in a rolling boil. D says he's writing just for himself right now. I think he may be on to something. Lewis maintained that we need to write what we need, if we are to write the most authentic, effective, enduring manner. I like the flashback to the hardware store proprietor's promise about the shotgun shells. Maybe more specific flashbacks to help build tension. Whine of mosquitoes. I wish readers could hear D do his turkey call imitation, not once but over and over. We asked how that was spelled. However he had spelled it, there were lots of red squiggly lines under the "word." This was an intensely detailed and nuanced man on the hunt, turkey hunt. Never switch from female turkey to Tom or he'll be gone in a heartbeat. This a classic example of writing what you know. D has hunted turkey, called them, blown their heads off, and bagged them. J says D uses his name Bruce too much. Alan commented that there are good visual description but more smells would help, pine forest, swamp smells, exhaust from the pick up truck, gun oil.  

CRITICISM! What to do with it?

INKBLOTS--June 3, 2013
Blue-sky, sunny evening. Six gentlemen around the outdoor fire pit, Cotes du Rhone Villages (thanks, John). I shared my recent beating up by a UK critic who didn't like anything about my forthcoming Wycliffe novel (one of my favorites, and so for my regular pre-publication readers). Here's my final paragraph after trying to deal with the sweeping demolition of the entire novel by this verbose opinionater. 

My musings on how I proceed with criticism like this: As  a frail Christian daily in need of grace, I want to be in a posture of welcoming and humbly accepting criticism, and equally (in no way contradictory) as a writer and a creator of stories I have to be very careful not to let critics squash my literary voice, my style, my story. After all, what makes books work, be read and reread, be reprinted, what makes publishers come back to one author for more books from their pen, is their unique voice and perspective on the human condition in a broken world. The great trouble is, that if I'm not extremely cautious when a critic steps forward to tell us how he really feels, I can end up wearing myself out trying to recast my story in the image of the critic's opinion, a critic whose literary ideas may or may not be very carefully developed, who may not have a wide range of this kind of writing experience (being an expert on theology or history or academia--ones who often have strong opinions--does not, however, make one an expert on writing fiction, colossal non sequiter), who may think he knows lots more about the historical figure and time period than the author, and who doesn't have the same life experiences that always shape an individual writer and their voice and story--we're different and the thousands of choices that make up the fiction writing process will be different too. I am determined not to descend into formula fiction, so I labor to create authentic characters (yes, sir critic, that have some unlikeable characteristics, by design, like all of us in a broken world). And I have varied the point of view with care and intentionality so as to have a human lens into the significantly segregated worlds of this time period. His finding Willard or Hugh likeable or not is weird to me; of course they're not entirely likeable! Who is in a fallen world? Authentic fiction celebrates this; it doesn't try to sugar coat the unlikeable parts about people but lets them be heard and felt, and molded and, by degrees, changed. This is what makes fiction work!

Patrick leads off with revisions he has begun working on from his philosophical novel, Justin is insane. I like Patrick's fluid style. Mozart wrote Twinkle, twinkle little star, not Beethoven. This is a total recasting of Patrick's mammoth philosophical work. Fine work. We're all impressed and eager to see you press on in this work.

Adam takes us to the cemetery. Adam writes sort of like the literay offspring if Sir Conan Doyle were to wed Agatha Christie. Good pacing and description of fogging the lens of his glasses. You have to watch Adam read his own writing. He laughs, he smirks, he is an actor (for real; he met his fiancee while they both were acting in Sound of Music). Just got one of those... attribute early for cadence.  Wish we had time to read larger swathes of each others work. A guy is inviting another fellow to rob graves. 

Alan is working on a historical fiction set in the years prior to the destruction of Jerusalem in AD 70. Paul and his missionary trip to Spain will make an appearance. He has a pre-writing study for us to consider. Themes of role of government, just war, how should we live under foreign occupation? He reads a sample chapter from what will be midway in the novel. Soldiers on the march, 12th legion. Good context and description (late-October...) withdrawal looking more like a retreat. I want to know who to care about? The reader will need a clear point of view, a lens from which to observe all this--a real to life, authentic, complex individual who is caught in the middle of all this. Simeon enters after a number of paragraphs. I would urge you to consider introducing Simeon in the opening lines. Let us feel what Simeon feels. Let us smell what he smells, see what he sees, feel what he feels. Itroduce an optio to talk to, more dialogue with self and others. Though, having said that, it is difficult to put in midway. We don't know how you have developed Simeon earlier. Patrick pointed out that this episode can work well if Alan has prepared the reader to have a lens through Simeon to this battle. Bottom line, the reader has to intensely care what happens to the character who is yourpoint of view in the tale. Mile comes from a thousand paces in Latin, so using mile in the fiction is historically accurate. 

 Shane is not sure. Hasn't even proof read the one. Been reading George MacDonald and has gotten the sense that the world is not mundane but fantastic. Out of that he developed a character, which he feels is ill formed yet but he figured he had to start writing. Journal of Terrance Magillicuddy. Still looking for the mundane substance... Grass makes the world liveable. This is a first person journal recording boring scenes but not so because he has an interior amnesia that makes him intrigued with new things, because everything is new to him, every time, because of his amnesia. Clever idea. Everything is novel to him and so he's fascinated with the mundane, the idea of ordinariness, which he can never experience. So this is funny, but it's more than just comic. Shane has a philosophical purpose. Ignorant narrator. 

John told us a bout his rejection letter from Writers Edge. It was encouraging, as rejections go. So John has been reworking things. Got an email from a mentoring group who wants to "publish" his book. Rivers something. We'll do editing and mentor you as a writer, but you have to buy 1,000 copies of your own book. 

We talked about marketing books and how publishing the industry has changed and is changing.