Image-Bearers and the Imagination--INKBLOTS

Blustery evening on the Red House Farm for InkBlots tonight, rain pattering against the windows, wind gusting in the trees, cattle restless and lowing. Snoqualmie red blend, only four of us braving it tonight; the others are missed.

Never package truth in dullness

I shared from Spurgeon's morning devotions, with his vintage use of imaginative comparisons to awaken the reader: "There is no mortgage on his estate; no suits can be raised by opposing claimants, the price was paid in open court, and the Church is the Lord's freehold forever." and a few lines later, "What a battle he had in us before we would be won! How long he laid siege to our hearts! How often he sent us terms of capitulation! but we barred our gates, and fenced our walls against him. Do we not remember that glorious hour when he carried our hearts by storm? When he placed his cross against the wall, and scaled our ramparts, planting on our strongholds the blood-red flag of his omnipotent mercy?" Victorian Spurgeon, unlike so many of his contemporary authors, knew how to be concise, how to use words with utility, each word, phrase, image, tight, evocative, and genuine. Don't write like Spurgeon. He's Spurgeon. But glean everything you can from his rich use of words. Still more, take his message deeply into your soul.

Awaken your readers' imaginations. We discussed journalism, of all things. And writing with integrity, ahem. Speaking of writing with integrity, Bob is dropping his Soap Lake yarn, to our consternation. What! We were loving it. He was not sure where it was going. We told him not to shred it. Then he started telling us what was going to happen, sordid tale of con and murder and general shysterism. Patrick likes it and urges Bob to focus on the satire of the name-it-and-claim-it dude, with new-age crystals not Bibles. Surprised twist, Joseph Conrad's Heart of Darkness, what he did was write a book that was a critique of European colonialism, but knew it wouldn't sell so he wrote the book using all the tropes of an adventure story, hooking the audience, then coming through the backdoor with his anti-colonialism theme. So Patrick's point is use one genre as set up then hit the reader with the expose on shysters. Which makes me think this could also be a political thriller, what with all the shysters, or an expose on journalists who think they are high priests of what ought to have happened and why it ought to have, but blithely charging forward ignoring what actually happened (the facts. The what?).  

Patrick nearing the end of the Ceribravore Tales, audience, speculative fiction, young adults to twenties, mostly males, 1000 years in the future. Rereading the same chapters after revision from our last hearing. This is a good thing to do. This story is a picture of redemption. Employing his switching of genre, per earlier discussion. Patrick had gotten some push-back about it being too narrative driven, too much beginning exposition, too much background set up, without action and character development. Our hero, you are addressing the reader, as our story begins. This is the oral storyteller point of view, somewhat like Lewis in Chronicles. I like the revision, the characters and action make it come alive, but I realized that I wasn't fully connecting, and was trying to figure out why. I think it is because you are using they, plural pronouns for your characters, not one dominant individual. It is harder for readers to connect with they than with him or her, a single individual character, yes, who had friends with him, but we can get into one head far more easily than into two or three or a dozen. How to include Gabe's brother, who appears later. How to introduce this? Bob commented that Patrick does not give us the expected phraseology, but comes at us from the flank. 

John reads Saving Grace, last chapter, letter her mom dropped in her lap, Grace not quite sure what to expect. Letter is from her boyfriend, father of her child. This is a good letter, Dear Jane letter, but I wonder if he would use the kind of words, syntax seems too educated, clear, honest for who I thought this guy was. Her boyfriend is a new convert, loves them both, and can't imagine living without them. Why was he too ashamed to say it to her face. Bob appreciated how John had Grace react, in thoughts and body language, reacting to the letter. Is the letter too detailed, gives too much away? I would suggest having him frank and honest about the habits of his past, acknowledging that he will need lots of help, wants to do what's right for her and for the baby, feeling inadequate, wanting to do what is right, she deserves more, Grace deserves more than he is and can give, but he wants to be that man. Patrick appreciates that John did not go too far and left the uncertainty.  

I read a chapter and a bit from Luther in Love, where Luther is giving a sermon at the Stadtkirche in Wittenberg. Got some good push back about congregation interaction. Have I adequately prepared the reader for rough German church service with Luther preaching in the vernacular and peasant roughs responding during the sermon? Work on this. And tighten the actual sermon, avoid redundancies; here's a thought, try not to repeat myself, over again, and say the same thing more than once, and maybe I could avoid unnecessary repetition while I'm at it. Read an excerpt of LUTHER IN LOVE. Save your coffee money and join us for the LUTHER 500 REFORMATION TOUR June 15-25; space is filling so don't delay.

Cutting Words, Pace, and Why We Write: INKBLOTS

Writing Luther/Katie novel and leading Luther 500 Tour

Inkblots resumes after misalignment of summer schedules. Meeting in my nearly finished Scriptorium (sitting on plush couch surround donated by Dougie Mac, Inkblots founding patron, and using electricity piped in by John Schrupp, electrician and fix-anything writing dude). Late summer evening but with a hint of rain in the air; five men and three women launch in for an evening of reading, discussion and critiquing--and laughing 'Blots fashion: gently at and with each other.

Dougie Mac leads off with a revised Return to Tarawa, WW II historical fiction set in the Pacific theatre. I recent had the privilege of reading this then 94,000 word manuscript, now significantly tightened (cut more than 7,000 words); my main encouragement was to cut anything that didn't drive the story forward, that didn't immediately work on his protagonist, changing him, making him face his demons. He is rereading the first chapter. Pace is hugely improved. You cut out a number of things that I thought confused the reader: what is the problem, who do we care about, but now we feel far more focused. He explained what he did in revision. He realized that he had a character that was not necessary, and then another one who didn't really have an essential role to play. Patrick pointed out that just listening he wasn't sure if the old man was having a flashback to the war or was it the tourist boat? This is a good comment, though Patrick, in the end, thought it wasn't in need of revision.

I shared the work I'm doing on my Luther novel, Luther in Love (working title). I need a more sympathetic beginning. Two old people sitting around the fire in the Augustinian cloister might be a trifle dull, unless I handle it in a rivetingly compelling manner. Maybe start when Katie gets word of his death, was suggested, or at Luther's grave/funeral. I want this historical novel to adorn Christian marriage, show how God designed it for imperfect people, living in a dark and broken world, but that Christian marriage by God's design works better God's way. All the pet ideals about sex and marriage of today are busted wide open by the kind of portrayal of marriage I have in mind. A pastor friend of mine thought the book idea could shape into a book he would give as a first read in premarriage counseling; I like this idea. Then again, I could start the novel with Luther preaching on marriage, his treatise on why nuns and monks should leave the cloistered life and marry. Katie could be reading it aloud to Luther, sick and old, but the reader doesn't know that yet. I need more tenderness in this opening scene.“What a lot of trouble there is in marriage! Adam has made a mess of our nature. Think of all the squabbles Adam and Eve must have had in the course of their nine hundred years together. Eve would say, ‘You ate the apple,’ and Adam would retort, ‘You gave it to me.’” And then after twenty years with Katharina von Bora, Luther says he wouldn't trade "My Rib" for all the gold of Croesus.

Bob reads his crime fiction just underway. Have him argue for his qualifications to be a New Age guru because he liked movies by Shirley McClain. Bob took us on a geology lesson about Soap Lake, Washington. Scheme to fleece women at the spas. Bob is calling it Hot Tub Homicide. Sofia has some very good ideas about how to expose with the story the snake oil dimensions of the whole false religion. We discussed the problems of changing point of view, with the opening character going to die a third of the way through the story.  I suggest having the pastor who will be the sleuth and solve the murder be in the first chapter, dealing with a parishioner who is toying with New Age spa stuff. Good stuff and keep writing.

Patrick is explaining his speculative fiction work underway. The Jade Zealot. Story begins with the protagonist exiting the space station, launching himself into space to find the alien object. Fine tuning his trajectory or else; a tiny miscalculation grows in space; missing desired mark and the vastness of space stretches endlessly before you. The confrontation is terrifying. Patrick explained that it is horror genre. A house divided against itself cannot stand. Patrick, while reading aloud, caught a number of his own writing issues, proof once again of the critical importance of reading what we write out loud, often. I would go so far as to say that if we don't read aloud we have not finished our job yet. So much corrective happens when reading aloud. I'm having trouble seeing what is going on. Now, in fairness, this may be because of my genre limitation (true confession: I'm not a reader of sci-fi). John commented right off about his calculations needing to be precise. Dougie commented that it needs fleshing out, something Patrick is so good at, as we all have heard many times before, to our delight; this is an early draft. Bob wanted to know what his protagonist's motivation for doing what he is doing, launching out into space, but we don't know why. Patrick says that will come in later. Have suit talk to him when his heart rate goes too high or blood pressure rockets (sorry).  Needs more anxiety about what he is doing, a flashback to his wife, and kids, if something goes wrong, and why it is the likeliest thing on the cards that something will. Ramp up the uncertainty, in my opinion.

Rachel working on a new story, this being what she's working on in between her college studies until next quarter. We got a name, straight off, Nicole and last name too. Place firmly established at the gate, New York City. Very good use of specifics, number of stories in the building, what it has and does not have. Good narrative, showing us the various people, but I'd like to hear more of the sounds of a bustling newsroom, digital printer, gurgling water cooler, an array of ringtones going off at the same time, buzz of voices, rapid footfalls--nobody walks at a normal pace in a newsroom. It is so much fun to watch high-octane Rachel describe what she is writing and what is coming. Nicole is going to have to undergo change. Rapid pace yarn, read rapidly by Rachel. Bob suggested fewer adjectives and more verbs, which is showing more than telling. You have a effective narrative style; don't lose that, but show us more than tell us. Patrick suggests moving it to a 1940s newsroom, which would create wonderful new sounds, typewriter keys clickity-clacking. Being forced to report on her ex-husband is a great set up. Make sure the contrivance works; show the history of other odd combining of reporters and subjects to write on. Nicole idealizes things and then is disappointed. This is her problem and the story should move from episode to episode driving her to change.

Alisa and John deferred to Rachel, ever the gracious writers. Next time you lead off, and Sofia, bring us some of your material to hear; glad you came.

I have a few more spaces available in the April 1-8, 2017 OXFORD CREATIVE WRITING MASTER CLASS. Check it out.

Torpedo in the Water! INKBLOTS: Read what we read last night

I'm writing about Lewis as a WW I teen atheist

[Planning to include more of what we actually read together in these posts, starting with this one] Five gentlemen sitting around my living room, good conversation, good wine (French, Swiss, CA), and ink and paper, well, actually, sand and chips (computer kind not the fish-n kind). We talked about our inspiration, Inklings, Lewis and Tolkien's gang meeting in Oxford back in the 30s and beyond, hence, our name Inkblots, 'Blots for short. John is reading a book on how to read Dante and the benefit of doing so.

Patrick has been reading Tolkien, looking for inspiration and searching for clarity, the open door, the jolt that awakens the epic feel. Not like X-files where it gets gimmicky, taking advantage of the audience's emotions. How to achieve the episodic feel, like Bob's Sindbad, which definitely had the big feel. He has gotten criticism that his characters are hollow and incomplete, distant, alienated people. But nothing like that in Tolkien, but studying particular excerpts that seem to particularly capture the episodic feel. I'm reminded of how imitation is the truest form of flattery. Tolkien put people in a hierarchy where they were content, good leaders, submissive subject, whereas most stories do not have a trustworthy hierarchy, yet Tolkien does. Peter Weir as director of Master Commander, fully fleshed out characters, round, flesh and blood.

I suggested Patrick pull out Milton's Paradise Lost and observe the way he plays off the celestial and the demonic voices and styles, each made stylistically richer by the other.

Thoughts, whither have ye led me, with what sweet
Compulsion thus transported to forget
What hither brought us, hate, not love, nor hope [ 475 ]
Of Paradise for Hell, hope here to taste
Of pleasure, but all pleasure to destroy,
Save what is in destroying, other joy
To me is lost.

Challenges of writing redemptively. Patrick's zombie yarns are explorations or pictures of depravity, but he is moving to redemption. We discussed the merits of point of view, first person and third person, and the relative advantages of each, what each does well, and where their strengths lie. Star-crossed lovers, zombie falling in love with a human, unequal yoking, as Shakespeare explores in Romeo and Juliet. 

I wish you could sit in and listen to this. Patrick finished reading a compelling, fluid passage, and then we jumped in. Jeff is new tonight (and big welcome to you, Jeff!) and appreciated hearing Patrick explain how speculative fiction works (omnivores, the zombie term for humans). Bob asked how it got to be this way, how the world morphed into this kind of world, one with zombies, where they are normal and appear to the reader to be normal, disturbing though they be.

Bob says there is narrative (descriptive material), dialogue, plot, character, but it is difficult to do all of them well. Dorothy Sayers, amazing crime fiction writer, who does such nuanced dialogue, with little repartee between speakers, subtle nuanced character development through the fragmented breakaways of her speakers. I wish I could write like Dorothy S!

John reads his grandson's book. John Jr had spoken to me Sunday at church about the book he is writing, wanted to know how I did my editing after writing my books, serious, intense question, wanting a genuine answer. John is about eight. John Jr's writing has the feel of Calvin and Hobbes crossed with ET, but a delightful eight year old foray into writing fiction, complete with a desire for the redemptive, for finding God and peace. Thanks for sharing this with us John. There is a definitely story line and he follows it. Well done, John.

I read from chapter 3 of War in the Wasteland, this shift to Fiona Fleming's perspective, crossing U-boat infested Channel on her way to France and the war as a WAAC. 
Excerpt:

Two weeks later, from the quarterdeck of the same troopship RMS Amazon, Fiona Fleming watched waves crash on the outer breakwater of the port of Dover, growing rapidly smaller behind the ship’s wake. Gray-on-white seagulls cavorted behind the ship, muscular wings arched, screeching at each other as if it were all a frolic. With a quick tilt and nod of her head, Fiona chose to imagine that, instead of scrounging for garbage jettisoned from the ship’s galley, they were her own personal feathered escorts wishing her farewell, a speedy war, and a happy return. She tried to smile, but her lips refused to cooperate.

Though her father had tried to warn her, Fiona was unprepared for the intensity of the emotions she felt as she watched the jagged coastline diminish, the white-cliffs rising precipitously above the gray-green of the English Channel. Shrinking in size and becoming more opaque with every turn of the troopship’s screw.

Exhilarated with the adventurous prospects of war, Fiona had barely been able to contain herself when she had read the newspaper report in January, 1917. The War Department had established a new corps, the Women’s Axillary Army Corps, called the WAAC for convenience. But ten months later, November 18, 1917, on board a troopship, in convoy with destroyers and armored cruisers, heading into the U-boat-infested waters of the English Channel, she found that a good deal of her exhilaration had given way to giddy uneasiness.

Fiona was grateful for the sea breeze and mist tugging at her hair and bringing the water to her eyes. It helped conceal the tears of another kind she knew were there. It had been different ten months earlier; she had been all enthusiasm, begging her father to let her enlist.

“Aye, lass, that’s all good and well, I’m sure, but you have but eighteen years to your name,” he had observed. “And the WAAC requires, and most properly does it do so, a young woman to have not a day fewer than one and twenty years. Now I know that you’ve never fancied yourself good at mathematics, but even you can work it out, my dear, that eighteen is nae the same thing as twenty-one.”

“There’s only a wee difference, really. And I’m tall for my age.” She had tried every argument she could think of to persuade him. “The Germans are planning another big offensive—everyone says they’ll be doing it. And the War Department...
Lots of helpful push back from these dudes. Here's notes on some of their comments: [more spray and feel of seas… smells at sea… heeling and losing her footing, why no sea sickness… go below will make us sick… terrific speed too much… is the seeing of the u-boats realistic? Maybe I need to lay the notion that the u-boat almost always surfaced to shoot torpedoes… is it realistic for her to see the torpedo coming at them… no battleships escorting according].

Here's from Patrick's pen: 

“What? You read the tales of Umyitz?”

         “Every child reads those. They are our favorite fairytales.”

         I was shocked by her comment, knowing instinctively that when she said “every child” she really meant “every cerebivore child”. I had never heard this before and objected, “But they are stories about cure of your condition.”

         “Well, of course, silly. All cerebivores wish to be free of our condition. Why would we not want to be able to eat anything?”

I was downright floored by her confession—perplexed and undone. I could muster nothing more than stammering verbal hiccups in response. Aza laughed with golden humor.

         “Oh, Padel, have you dreamed that our love might cure this wretched curse?”

          I had. In the story of Yacob the tailor, he had fallen in love with a zombie woman and cured her. Their children were also pure, and soon the health of their union was communicated to the wider population. “I must admit,” I said at last, “the thought had crossed my mind. It has been, perhaps, a catalyst for my infatuation.”

          She laughed again, “Oh, the way you speak is so adorable. Alas, my sweet, it is but a fairytale. Many times a mixed marriage has produced omni children, but they have always been infertile. It appears that while my disease can spread, your health cannot.”

         “Is that always the law of nature?” She ignored my question.

          “Don't be sad though, you will have actual children, and those offspring will be members of the dominant species, able to experience all the wealth and freedom available to that group. You don't have to worry about the well being of your family any longer.”

         “That's a good point. I never thought of that,” but something troubled me. “What about my Pa? What about the others.”

         “Well, as soon as you come out of hiding people will know that your Pa is a human. The secret will be impossible to keep. They will have to be taken in.”

         “What? No! We will warn them and they can escape. There is no reason to take them captive.”

           “The life of a free human is too dangerous. It would be better if my family took ownership. You and I could keep them safe and give them a good life. If they run and then get caught we can't protect them.”

   
                                                     

INKBLOTS--Sindbad to the Trenches of WW I

As WW I ground on boys were conscripted to fight

Five of us this evening, crackling fire (though spring and some sunshine, still a bit chilly after the sun sets). We discussed for an extra half hour at the leading edge our Inkblots venture plans in the cooker. Many details to hammer out but good discussion and progress. Bob Rogland leads off with chapter six of Sindbad and Selassia, which I had the privilege of reading in its entirety several years ago. My adult daughter says this is his best book yet.

Bob has a straightforward narrative style, no affected syntax or over-wrought verbosity from Bob's pen to cut through. Inspired by the Arabian Knights, this yarn has an imbedded critique of Islam. It may be difficult for me to entirely be unbiased here because I so much enjoy Bob's humor, and I appreciate just about everything about him as a person, as a creative genius (I'm not really exaggerating, though some will not believe me when I say it), and as a no-nonsense Christian man. Bob writes in first person from the point of view of the intrepid Sindbad, a Muslim who engages in congenial debate with Selassia, a Christian slave from Ethiopia. 

John suggested more dialogue than Bob took advantage of. And he said he would like to hear Selassia's prayer. Patrick asked if Bob had read the original Sindbad. Doug suggested more description of posture and description of tone of voice. Bob reads it with engaging inflection but will this be conveyed in the words on the page alone to readers on their own. We ended up having a discussion of Islam and the Koran, wherein there is confusion about the Trinity, the Koran explaining it as Jesus, God, and Mary. And no personal relationship with God in Islam. And Christians don't believe in justice enough, too much grace in Christian gospel. Though Muslims depend on their works and God being mercy, but an arbitrary mercy, ironically without justice, because there is no substitute, no atoning sacrifice for sin. Allah is just being arbitrary in passing over sin. Selassia could point out that Islam actually is weak on justice, though it claims the opposite.

I read the first chapter of War in the Wasteland (working title) set in World War I, and received helpful feedback from the men. Here are my rough notes from their comments.
Germany was an army with a country, England’s driven to fight, France determined to recover Alsace… More context as to why they are fighting this war (but do I want to do this here, or save for trench talk later). Why are they here? Too much on the down side of the war. Make more tension with having him feel enthusiasm, a drive to fight. Needs more of Nigel’s patriotism, his commitment to fight. Needs more itching to put Germans in the ground. The war was the outlet for young men’s violent nature. Whereas today we suppress young men’s violent desire to fight. In early 20th century England encouraged boy fighting unlike today. Focus young men’s aggression toward the enemy, the Germans. Nigel feels too much like a 2015 character, Patrick commented.

Patrick read from his zombie apocalypse yarn. Patrick catches his own editorial issues, another great benefit of reading aloud. Slab of meat, in this context does make the stomach crawl. Let us hear that the butcher used a high and whinny voice, and is that the best way to convey his tone. Omni is an omnivore. We fifty-and-aboves, though we admittedly don't get this genre, do appreciate and have high regard for Patrick's growing skill as a writer, and we appreciate him attempting to prepare us for the Aztec human sacrifice joke allusions coming in this episode.