Mayhaps: Nobody Starts Out Heroes

Everyone wants to be Iron Man, but not everyone wants to be Tony Stark. Everyone wants to be Batman, but not everyone wants to be Bruce Wayne.

“But wait,” you might reply, “Those are charismatic multibillionaires.” Well, they didn’t start that way. Both were shaped by tragedy. That money came with enemies and challenges. In both cases, much of the privilege came with problems, struggling with emptiness and need for purpose. But let me switch to an example that might land a bit more squarely on target.

Bilbo Baggins had dreams of adventures, but the consistent hard work and danger regularly kept him away from pursuing those things.

Bringing it back to the comics examples, Bruce Wayne’s and Tony Stark’s whole journeys are ones motivated by loss and struggles against things bigger than they are, money or no money. Bruce Wayne often resigns himself to never being very happy in his personal life. Tony Stark regularly battles against his ego, conflicts in his personal relationships, and a regular bout with his alcoholism. When faced with this, could we say that being Batman or Iron Man is worth the trade-off? One could argue the responsibility that comes with the hero’s mantle would finally put the negatives ahead of the positives in the final tally.

Like it or not, being a hero is not a thing of status. Being a hero is about doing the right thing, and very often it involves a lot of “swimming upstream” against others, against the status quo, against the world and its ways, and especially against yourself.

Most true heroes are recognized only by some after the fact, not while they’re doing it. Not much reward and it’s often only because they know it’s right, even if no one else does. Sooner or later it also comes with costs.

So it would seem that the conditions for making heroes are exactly the conditions that would ensure most people would never willingly choose to be one. The traits are uncommon, and that is why heroes are uncommon, but they are exactly the stuff that makes both heroes and their stories special. “They make the decisions most of us couldn’t.” And maybe it starts us thinking maybe those traits are worth adopting because of that. After all, heroes are often made, not born.

Until next time, Godspeed and Peace be with ya!

A Grimm Takeaway – In Postmodernism, Classic Faerie Tale Villains Become Heroes (For All The Wrong Reasons)

I just wanted to poise an interesting thought for discussion.

In the classic story often found in Grimm’s Faerie Tales compilations, we have the famous story of The Boy Who Cried Wolf. With some variations, it’s about a story of a European boy who watches over the village’s sheep. But too bored with being a sentry for the sheep in the pasture, he decides to perform a grandiose lie of raising the alarm and crying out to the village, “There’s a wolf in the pasture!” When the village men come running with weapons, the boy reassures them that he scared away the wolf. He gets the pats on the back and the ego boost for being a hero based on a lie.

Soon afterwards, the situation repeats itself, and he does it again. Then a few more times. And the people start to realize that there never was a wolf any of those times. The townspeople turn on the boy and stop believing him.

A few days later, the boy is back on watch. But this time a very real wolf comes on the prowl. The boy cries out that there’s a wolf in the pasture. Predictably, the people of the village no longer believe the boy because he is no longer worthy of trust. In a final twist of irony, the boy ends up the meal for the wolf, while the sheep escape.

In past generations, it was generally accepted and understood what the moral was: lying will be found out and it will only make people disbelieve you, even when you finally decide to tell the truth. The boy’s fate is no fault but his own.

However recent events have led me to realize that if you were to tell the story anew to postmodernists (especially those who claim that morality is subjective and relative) might easily take an extremely troubling reinterpretation that makes the Boy Who Cried Wolf into some tragic heroic allegory figure because they identify most with this character.

“Ah, but you see, even if he lied the first time, and the second time, and every time but the last, he was drawing attention to the danger of wolves! And how close minded those villagers were to stop believing. The issue was real! So what if the separate reported incidents were outright lies? Because they stopped believing him, he got eaten by the wolf! Who is the real villain?!”

Well the answer is that the villain of the story is always The Boy Who Cried Wolf. But I now seriously worry how many people today would consider him the hero? Perhaps the same kind of people who think that hoaxing and lying to get sympathy and support is okay as long as you’re “drawing attention to the issue.”

Until next time, Godspeed and Peace be with ya!

Home and Hearth: A Blessing Over 2024

The feeling of New Year has been one of clear uncertainty.  Like a blank page, except you have no idea what will be written on it.

Good things or bad things, we know how to prepare for.  There’s very few philosophies about how to deal with a world where the unexpected occuring is expected regularly.

“Now what?” we ask, throwing up our hands.

And the truth is we really experience the same thing every year, and perhaps we are just more aware of it this time around.  We are aware that we don’t know the future even moment to moment, new calendars and daytimers and phone alarms and schedules notwithstanding.

So do we live in fear?  No, that’s not Christian.  Do we leave our schedules eternally open and never make plans?  No, that’s not wise.  But maybe deep down we plan our happiness on things that are out of our control.  In fact, planning happiness on the future is planning a conditional thing on an uncontrollable thing.  Might as well be gambling, and the pain of astonished disappointment can be as damaging as pain to the pocketbook, if not more.

The world seems to have a sick preternatural sense of humor in its timing when an inconvenience piles on us at the worst times.  Can we control probability, chance, coincidence, fate, and the permissive will of God?  No.  The world and its motions are going to go how God allows or needs things to happen.  But He also cares about our well-being.  And that has taught me something important:

There will always be things we cannot control, so take ahold of what you do control.

Relationship with God, healthy intellectual and emotional life, good habits, healthy relationships, a clean and ordered and expressive living space and a good use of your time each day are all things that are feasible, health permitting.

Like Jesus’ Parable of the house built on a rock foundation, it’s hard to establish, but helps you weather storms when they hit.

It’s why castles exist.  You can’t control the entire world, so you establish a fortress and safe haven in what way you can, which makes taking on the world outside easier.

We fortify each year. Build up our relationship with God, nurture healthy relations with our family (both of blood and bond), foster good friendships, and grow yourself in every way you know how, as long as your health allows. It’s a feasible resolution, and one we have a good chance to keep.

The storms of this year may come, but let’s make sure we have a rock foundation and sturdy walls, and a warm hearth to weather it together. If we can’t be joyful and content during hard times, then when will we?

I think of this quote from Cyrano de Bergerac: “Yet, with all modesty to say, my soul be satisfied with flowers, with weeds, with thorns, even.  But gather them in the one garden you may call your own.”

Until next time, Godspeed, Peace be with ya, and a Good New Year to us all.

Days of Small Beginnings

The other day I had to make a shift in my priorities of writing projects.

It was difficult for all the wrong reasons.  I have two projects that are, to be brief and prudent, my reasons for getting into writing in the first place.  One is my first real story, the first novel that will be – hopefully – the first of a series.  The second one is the first short story of what – hopefully – will be a series.

Then there’s the third.  It’s a children’s book, very simple.  Not long, not a lot of characterization, and not terribly exciting.  But there is something about this third project: I can actually see myself publishing this book soon.  The novel has wrestled with chronic plot problems, the short story series is gonna need some significant worldbuilding to lay the foundation for its fictional world.

So because I frankly want to actually produce a book before I qualify for senior benefits, I realized I need to write and publish something smaller, simpler, short-term.  It actually made a difference.  Progress is going faster than I hoped.  But you know what?

I actually resented it.  The story isn’t big, it’s not flashy, it’s not exactly my genre.  It doesn’t have sweeping character arcs, pitched struggles and battles of wills.  And you know what?  It’s still good.  But resentment cropped up anyway because it didn’t feel impressive.  It didn’t smack enough of “artistic innovation” or some other hollow idea.  Ya know “wow, THIS is my first work?  What if I get known for this?  I should be writing so much more.”

God help me, if I had a dollar for how much I torture myself with the words “should be so much more,” I’d at least have a terrible source of income instead of self-deprecating for free.

I had to ask myself who exactly am I looking to impress?  Well, part of it is me subconsciously trying to impress people of the same cut as the critics I usually tend to agree with.  Modern culture hasn’t exactly flooded the market with good stories lately and my criticism of them has left me with the need to be fair and judge my own writing just as harshly. And yet, even here, I did not feel as if I was accurately identifying the center of my problem.

In fact, it took me a while to realize that I didn’t fear criticism nearly as much as I did falling short of my calling.  God called me to be a writer, and I feel that if I didn’t rise to the occasion and put something significant as my debut, it’d be like I was letting Him down somehow.

The Jewish people during the time of the Book of Zechariah went through a hard time with the same struggle returning to their home of Israel after being freed of captivity. They were called to rebuild the Temple of Jerusalem. But the last one was the Temple of Solomon. It never had been so good, and in hindsight, it never would be again. They figured if they couldn’t make it as good or better than Solomon’s, all it would do was disappoint them, disappoint others, and probably disappoint God.

Interesting theory, but Zechariah delievered God’s word that the only way they could disappoint God would be to not pursue it and leave no temple for the people to worship at. To do nothing at all would be even worse than falling short of some perceived standard. In Zechariah 4:10, the language is a bit figurative, leading to various wordings amongst the versions, but the verse says in paraphrase, “Do not despise the day of small beginnings, for the Eyes of God rejoice to to see the work begin, and to see Zerubbabel take up the tools in his hands.” And like Samuel told Saul, it’s not the form of the sacrifice, but the spirit of obedience in which it is given (1 Samuel 15:22).

The idea of impressing God sounds ridiculous at face value, but it becomes very believable when you let it hide in plain sight.  Some shadowy idea of ensuring God “gets good return on His investment” creeps in, and now you feel like a business owner afraid to show your main stockholder the books.  I plan to go into this point further in another post, but for now I return to my main point that being a writer and storyteller is more than just crafting your magnum opus.

We often feel like when God calls us to a great ambition or dream that could do great things, we take what should be a free weight to build up our muscles and turn that into a burden bound around our necks. It’s not meant to bring us down but build us up over time. That’s the spirit of the difference between Excllence and Perfection. Perfection is unattainable, but Excllence is possible wherever you are in life. The journey IS the calling, and it’s in pursuing it that God is pleased because you’re obeying Him.

Entering into the writing life means I need to be willing to be a writer for small projects and big, and to not only reserve my love for the big dream projects. The small ones deserve love too. You are to work as if working for the Lord (Colossians 3:23), and to not treat any work as “lesser work.” There’s a reaspn God holds mustard seeds, widow’s mites and little children in such high regard.

Don’t hate small beginnings, days of little progress and rough drafts and prose that doesn’t feel right.

And don’t be afraid of small, simple ideas.

Until next time, Godspeed and Peace be with ya!

We Grow or We Die – Character Development in Fiction and Real Life

“Without vision the people perish, but the one who keeps the Law finds joy.”

(Proverbs 29:18, paraphrased)

Yes, this is still a blog article on fiction. You might be confused that I’m leading with a Bible verse about Israel’s heart needing guidance to prosper. That is until I ask you to look again at that verse and consider the following question:

Isn’t it frustrating when a main character – in a show where it is clearly possible for a character to advance, grow, and overcome past mistakes – merely does the same thing over and over again? The same mistakes, the same character pitfalls, the same habits. The other characters grow and move on, but the main character doesn’t change, and there’s no point to it. It’s just that character stuck in a status quo because the writer can’t seem to unstick the them from the rut that is comfortable in the writing process.

We find frustration in this because it is human nature to grow one way or another. We need to better ourselves, gain more, learn more, have more, ascend higher, go farther; the ways we go about this have formed all the good and bad of all human history. We grow or we die. Therefore when it is clear we ourselves or someone else has the opportunity to grow and does not, it illicits some degree of rejection.

Now it is not to say that static characters cannot be good, but their traits must have some particular purpose, and there shouldn’t be a clear and obvious reason or desire to change in that character. Certain shows revolve around maintaining the status quo and doing that one thing well for the whole run. But the moment you start to hint that characters are going to grow, change, and start learning from what happened before, a sort of narrative treadmill starts up, and the whole cast is theoretically placed on it. From that point, the characters should at least be written well enough to stay stationary and remain bearable to the audience, or advance enough to be moving forward.

The alternative is to not only remain standing still but actively move backwards on said treadmill. The audience notices the character learning nothing, maybe willfully ignorant of their faults. When it is clear other characters were able to break out and be different, it reveals inconsistencies and begins to make the character unlikable in the eyes of the audience. A finely-tuned status-quo is better than poor handling or lack of character development.

For an example, I submit the characters of the sitcom Frasier from the 90s and early 2000’s. The show is an example of terrific comedy writing and delivery on the part of the actors. However, one of the show’s major weaknesses is how little the characters are allowed to advance over time. Of the cast, only two (Niles and Daphne) are allowed to signifcantly move forward in their character arcs while the others merely hinted at an arc; Frasier – the main character the series is named after, whom the audience spends most of their time with, is stuck in a cycle of bemoaning failed relationships, recovering, making the same mistakes that ruined the relationship last time, and then returning to the same point only to have learned nothing. This, unfortunately, led to rushed conclusions by the end of the series. Many of the most brilliant moments of epiphany and character development turn out to be one-offs, forgotten episodes ago, isolated profound moments to impress the audience for a little while. The show, however smart it is, tempts viewers to disconnect and not quite care as much for most of the main and recurring cast by the end. After all, if they aren’t going to lose or gain anything, there’s no reason to worry or hold our attention.

Tragically, Fraiser is a psychologist who spends the whole show helping others overcome their shortcomings, only to always fail to achieve it himself. It’s an ironic joke played out over 11 long seasons. Physician, PLEASE, heal thyself!

It kind of reminds me of Plato’s answer to his accusers shortly before his death: “The unexamined life is not worth living.” C. S. Lewis described humans in the spiritual sense as eggs meant to hatch into birds in order to fly, and that “you cannot go on indefinitely being an ordinary, decent egg,” you must hatch or perish (Mere Christianity, book 4, chapter 8). To put it another way, a life without growth and consideration, lived shallowly, will only remain shallow, or eventually dry up. A character’s function in a story and appeal to an audience will live or die on the hill of how their arcs are executed. If the character is going to be recurring – ESPECIALLY for those in the main cast – and others are going to be given the chance to progress or regress according to their arc, then so must ALL the dynamic characters. Acknowledging the potential of an arc is not the same as using that potential, any more than acknowledging a faraway place exists is the same as going there. A character in a dynamic story must either grow or they decay, and in some way that is what reflects human nature, and why well-written characters reflect that reality.

So in short, if you create a character with a capacity to embark on a growth arc, do so. If not, write it as a static character and let it be. Without vision, your writing will perish, but writing towards meaningful goals creates joy.

Until next time, Godspeed and peace be with ya!

Righteous, Prudent, Possible: The C.S. Lewis Philosophy to Why We Should Write

Why are we writers? No, I need to be more specific than that. Lewis and his mentor – William T. Kirkpatrick – wouldn’t have it any other way.

For what are we, in the Tolkien definition, subcreators in imitation of our Author? We create worlds and characters and stories that express an artistic imitation of life in some truthful or revealing way. But one only has to look at the discussion about criticism of fiction to come across this idea. Clearly it is an art, and a means. But a means to do what?

If certain pundits, activitsts and armchair moral philosophers are to be believed, the ultimate goal for the fiction writer is to “build up society.” Apparently, this is the ultimate obligation of everything else on this planet, too. According to them, fiction is meant to guide people on towards their destiny, and build up the right kind of establishments that will inspire humanity to be its best self. Ah, we see “through a glass dimly” indeed. It sounds so right, people throw themselves into this conclusion without question. It, in fact, irritates many of these people to question this idea.

Regardless (or because of said potential irritation), I question this. The discussion reminded me of something from The Screwtape Letters #25.

Lewis posits that “of a proposed course of action [God] wants men, so far as I can see, to ask very simple questions”:

• Is it righteous?
• Is it prudent?
• Is it possible?

On the other hand, the world always wants us to ask questions like:

• “Is it in accordance with the general movement of our time?”
• “Is it progressive or reactionary?”
• “Is this the way that History is going?”

Lo and behold, how many answer the call of those complicated questions? Questions where the goalpost is moved constantly, are murky at best, and that the movers and shakers of our time will refuse to define for fear of tipping their hand.

Where does that leave the writers? Under constant social pressure to fulfill every incompatible philosophy that’s blowing around, inkpens chained to desks told only to do this and and that and to go no further. A free expression of subcreation turns into servitude to society under pain of attacks upon the work and character of the storyteller. So much for the enlightenment of modern society, where we claim to be advanced beyond ignorance and bigotry, and then drive escapism out of art as heresy.

Remember, the true daring of a storyteller is not to be the loudest megaphone for the cause, but to – in any age – bring humanity back down to Earth. Story is a purifier, a cure, a touchstone of realities and truths that were put by God deep down in us. They remind us what our lives, our efforts, our causes are for. Art – music, poetry, story, all things expressive – are to capture the abstract and intangible and communicate what lies beyond the tangle of societal issues that will change day to day. Story is a way to reframe experiences into something recognizable to remind us of simple truths, and we can’t forget that these divinely formed and established truths are the Ends, not the Means.

So when you find yourself worrying about whether or not you should include something in your story and how it should be portrayed, don’t judge by man’s standards. God’s laws, by comparison, allow much more room for creative freedom, only concerned with those simple things:

• Is it righteous? (Will the way the subject matter is portrayed be truthful according to God’s Word?)
• Is it prudent? (Is the story being told in the most effective way?)
• Is it possible? (Does the story express itself logically and clearly to your audience?)

Once you’ve accomplished that, stop worrying and write on.

There’s lot to this topic, but that is enough for now. Until next time, Godspeed and Peace be with ya!

Thoughts On Awe, Wonder and Why We Have Trouble Feeling It.

Awe and Wonder are hard to come by in this world. We can try to force the feeling all we wish, but it is something genuinely hard to find. Life seems dead set on rendering us unable to feel it. Attempts in much of modern storytelling often fail to do so entirely, only making the reader mildly impressed with what is being shown. We want to feel, to be immersed in stories. But the source of it comes from a difficult place in human nature that has become increasingly calloused. The numbness we feel to awe and wonder often comes from our own tightness of grip out of refusal to relinquish any control, afraid of give and take. For fear of man, we’ve deadened ourselves to the God who wants to take us outside of ourselves. This “outside of ourselves” is the primary component of any Awe and Wonder that often gave so much of the real lasting good fiction of our world any power and lasting appeal. When someone describes feeling “transported” while reading a book or watching other media, this is what we mean.

The key element is SURRENDER, one of the most hated words in human language. In the world of man, this word is so terrifying and repulsive that we clench our fists around what we have. We do not trust man to give after they take. If not handled with wisdom, this attitude turns into a closed heart. But God made us and does not intend to harm us. We cannot allow how people treat us to unfairly carry over into the way we look at God. He is your Source, your Muse. Open your heart and your hand to take, give and (very importantly) to feel.

Awe and wonder are, by their very nature, an acknowledgement of what is above and beyond you. Here the combative and defensive attitude we harbor has no place. Cynicism is a defense against attack and does not know how to trust. It might be justified with man, but it is poison to the soul. It carries distrust straight into the heart and the relationship you have with your Maker, your Author, your Storyteller. To be amazed and awed is to believe. Belief – even in the world of fiction – is hooked into that age-old understanding to surrender to what is above you. The heart has to be open to recieve and it has to be ready to give.

Psalm 8:3-4 King James Version (KJV)
³ When I consider thy heavens, the work of thy fingers, the moon and the stars, which thou hast ordained;
⁴ What is man, that thou art mindful of him? and the son of man, that thou visitest him?

King James Version (KJV) Public Domain

Peace be with ya, fellow adventurers. And remember that Awe and Wonder is rooted in love for your Author and belief. Don’t let this world keep you from believing.