The Craft of Writing, Part Eight: The B&E Factor

Good afternoon, my few and fellow readers! This post officially concludes our eight-part series on the craft of writing. Fiction writing, that is. For nonfiction, there are completely different criteria, but I’m not very experienced in that arena, so there’s little advice I can give. I appreciate those of you who have stuck it out on this long, two-month series, and I hope that if you enjoy the craft of writing, you’ve found some helpful advice in what I’ve written. This craft, the use of language in drafting stories to enchant a captivated audience, is a topic which lies very close to my heart, so I offer my deepest gratitude to you, dear reader.

Today, I’m going to cover a topic that I have invented, and I call it the B&E Factor. The “B” stands for “beauty,” and the “E” stands for “exploitation.” This is essentially a ratio, which can be represented as B/E or B:E, but before I go on with this, let’s go into detail on what each of these terms mean in my vocabulary. After all, it’d be irresponsible of me to keep discussing the ratio if you have a completely different interpretation of those terms  than I do.

Beauty

By “beauty,” I’m not necessarily referring to descriptions of pretty scenery or beautiful women. Rather, I’m talking about the quality of the story and the writing itself. Do your words flow poetically, or do they engage the reader with a quick wit? Do you introduce high concepts and delve into the deep philosophical or spiritual undercurrents which run beneath your story? Or does the story come to represent something far more grand than the simple story itself, becoming an exemplar for the working of fate and destiny?

There are two examples of this that stand out in my mind, both in film (although one of them was based on a book which I’ve never taken the time to read). The first is from the movie Stay, which is one of my favorite movies. I’ll spare you the plot, but I’ll say that I believe this to be one of the most beautiful films ever made. The storytelling style, the dialogue, the characters and pacing, and what it all builds toward create a beautifully tragic tale, set within the philosophical concept of dream-worlds. The beauty comes not from any one factor, but from the overall style of the storytellers (the writer and director, in this case). The second example is the film Holes, which deals with the concepts of luck, fate and generational curses. While the style of this film is more fun and kid-oriented, the overall narrative weaves multiple storylines which grow closer and closer together until they all converge in the film’s climax, at which point we realize that everything has been building toward a greater destiny for the protagonist and his close friend.

Exploitation

Exploitation can also mean a variety of things. It could refer to the antagonist exploiting the main character’s weaknesses, or it could refer to the narrator taking advantage of different avenues of thought in order to draw in the reader and get their own imagination rolling. It could even mean properly using the craft of writing in order to produce a high-quality tale. None of these are what I mean when I talk about exploitation. In my vocabulary, exploitation refers to cheap sensationalism used to increase your readership. For instance, while Playboy once contained fascinating stories (and might still, I don’t know, I’ve never touched a copy, though I’ve read stories which are noted as having been originally published there), they draw in the majority of their audience through immodest displays of the female form. Similarly, we can see in many, many, many, many films these days that the stories and characters are oversexualized, intending to draw in the viewer by appealing to their more primal instincts. And as far as literature is concerned…well, let me just say that I don’t think it was the story which drew in the fans of Fifty Shades of Gray.

Similarly, the horror genre too often lends itself to gore and dismemberment, as opposed to the dark creep factor which was more prevalent in works of the early masters like Poe and Lovecraft. In films, Rob Zombie is notorious for his obsession with gore, and in literature, Clive Barker uses both sex and gore to acquire his audience. In my opinion, the need for sex and/or gore in your writing in order to gain a captive audience simply speaks of bad writing. If you need to appeal to the baser instincts of the audience in order to keep their attention, then it simply means that your writing isn’t good enough to stand on its own. That’s why, as much as I am able, I try to avoid these two things. It forces me to perfect my writing by challenging me to keep an audience captivated without appealing to cheap exploitation.

The B&E Factor

So now that we have the concepts, how do they relate to each other? Well, that’s simple. You want to keep the ratio as high as possible. You want to maximize the B and minimize the E. Mind you, there must, unfortunately, be at least a little exploitation in order to draw in an audience in the first place, but if you can keep that as absolutely as low as possible, then even that attempt will make the beauty of your work stand stronger by contrast.

Keep your writings beautiful. Never sacrifice your style, your story or the heart which drives it just to gain a wider audience. And never compromise your own integrity through exploitation. Then, when you’ve brought everything together and told a story worth telling, your audience will remember the work you’ve done. Let your work stand on its own strength, power and beauty.

Until next time, friends…

The Craft of Writing, Part Seven – Productivity

Good day, my fellow readers! I hope this leap day is treating you well. For me, it’s just another day, but I’ll persevere. Anyway, today I’d like to begin with a story. More specifically, it’s the story of me as a writer.

I mentioned back in the beginning of this series that I started writing my first book in the seventh grade, but I didn’t make it very far because I didn’t have a storyboard. Well, not long after I gave up, I thought up the storyline for a new novel, a fantasy which I initially called “A Knight’s Journey,” and later changed to simply “War.” I wrote this novel on-and-off for the next five or six years, completing a chapter or two, then taking a six month break, then writing furiously, then taking a year off, and on it went. I would write, then take a long sabbatical. When the anxiety, pressure and guilt finally got to me, I’d drag out my computer and write more, as much as I could before I lost interest and put it away for another long break. Then I hit my senior year and I decided that I just had to get that book done. So, almost exactly a week before graduation, I finally typed the last words of the epilogue and boom! My first novel, Torjen, was complete (minus the revising, which came later).

But in that time, over the course of those five or so years of writing one book, I’d compiled ideas, characters, plotlines and connections to over thirty-five other books that I decided to write in my life. There was only one problem: if I took as long to write each of them as I did to write Torjen, then I would die of old age before I made it even halfway down the list. That was when I committed to my book-in-a-year plan. Thereafter, once I began a book, I would plan everything in such a way that I would complete it in a year or less. As such, during my five years in college, I completed (year-by-year and in this order) Torjen II: The Search for Andross, Reality, The Hybrid, Torjen III: Diablo and finally the science fiction novel, Infrared. Most of these have yet to be published, but I promise they will be released from their digital prison cells someday. From college, I dove into my studies in seminary and, graduate studies being what they are, I was forced to suspend my novel-writing until I completed my studies. Finally, in the first year of marriage, I was able to dive back in with my newest creation, The Choice of Anonymity, only to take yet another year off afterward so I could make strides into the realm of publication. But regardless of whether or not I get published by this fall, I will definitely begin work on the sequel, tentatively called The Struggle With Conformity.

Now why am I telling you all of this? Because I believe one of the chief qualities of a writer can’t simply be good ideas, skills and talents. It can’t just be good planning, groundwork and carefully crafted worlds and characters. The quality which differentiates between the one-hit-wonder and the legitimate writer is productivity. A good career writer doesn’t write one novel and then live off of that for the rest of his life; if he does, he’s just a fluke, not a true writer. No, a writer writes, and he writes, and he writes because that’s what he does. He writes his stories because he must get them out, or because the need to write, to share his thoughts is driving him mad. Or perhaps he’s in a deep (non-romantic) love affair with the craft itself. He doesn’t just think about writing; he writes!

But too often, I myself have struggled with long periods of inactivity. After all, it took me five years to write my first book! So what’s the solution? For me, what makes the one-year rule successful is a concept that probably brings a nauseating sensation to many stomachs and a woozy disgust to many minds: deadlines. Yes, that terrible beast which plagued each of us in school is what I have to enforce upon myself: deadlines. Check out the 2014-2015 schedule I crafted for The Choice of Anonymity below.

After completing my storyboard of the plot, I looked at how much was to compose each chapter and I gave myself the necessary time to complete it. Notice, for instance, that chapters ten, twelve and fourteen each took nearly a month to complete, while most of the others took about two weeks. That’s because those chapters were whoppers. On the other end of the spectrum, the prologue and epilogue each took about a week because those were miniscule. And chapter nine took another month because, in all honesty, I took two weeks off for the holidays. It wasn’t my most megalithic chapter.

By sticking to these deadlines, I made the writing of my book into a much less daunting task, and I ensured that less than a year after selecting the first few words of the story, I was writing the last few lines. This is the tactic that works for me, the strategy which keeps me productive and ensures that I will not die of old age before I make it halfway through my list of future books (which still rests at around thirty-five to forty, although I now have other follow-up ideas if my memory isn’t shot by then).

If the system of deadlines doesn’t work for you, then I encourage you to find something that will. But remember, you absolutely must find something that works. If you don’t, your productivity will be very low – if alive at all – and a writer you will cease to be. Stay the course, my friends. Be committed to seeing your works through.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for next week’s finale to our eight-part series on the craft of writing, in which I’ll discuss the nature of beauty versus exploitation in storytelling!

The Craft of Writing, Part Two: Characters

Hello! I hope you had an excellent weekend. Mine was enjoyable for the most part, though tiring. And with the new weightlifting and exercising routine I’m doing, I’m fairly sore these days, but it will all be for the better!

Last week, I talked about the most important part of storytelling: the plot. That is what makes a story a story. Now you may remember that I said the three most important elements to a story are plot, characters and setting, so with that in mind, let us move into the second element: character development.

When I was writing my first book, Torjen, I based each of the characters off of friends that I had at the time. In that way, the characters were already mostly developed, although they did have a tendency to evolve over the course of the rest of that trilogy, until by the end they bore little resemblance to their foundational counterparts in the real world. However, with later books, in which I had characters wholly unique, I realized that sitting down to write out the story with only the base notion of characters was simply not enough. I had to develop the characters, giving them backgrounds and personalities that were wholly unique and highly developed. Without that groundwork, there was simply no way to ensure that the characters had any sort of consistency in behavior. And in addition, by figuring the characters out before I sat down to write, I could establish personal growth within them.

So how does one go about creating a character? Well, first, you can choose the basic facts: gender, age, era, physical characteristics, personal history and hierarchy in the plot (good buy, bad guy, sidekick, etc.). When creating a slew of characters, what you’ll want most is at least one protagonist and at least one antagonist. A protagonist is simply your main character, like Harry Potter, the pale girl from Twilight, Hamlet, Romeo and Juliet, etc. This is the individual who is the main focus of the narrator; or, if you’re writing in first person, this is the narrator. The antagonist, on the other hand, is typically seen as the villain. The Joker, Sauron and Lord Voldemort are some of the more memorable antagonists in fiction. But there’s a trick: it’s usually the antagonist who propels the story forward. For instance, in the Harry Potter series, it is the evil machinations of Lord Voldemort that cause all of the events that Harry must endure. Without Voldemort, the Harry Potter series becomes a series about a kid in school. Boring. Without the evil corporations or mad megalomaniacs, James Bond is simply a guy in a tuxedo drinking martinis. Also boring. It’s the antagonist who causes the events of the story, and the protagonist who tries to resist these changes (which are usually for the worse).

So you have your protagonist, your antagonist and your side characters. Now what? Well, here’s where it gets deep. Now you draft what I call a “psychological profile” for each one, detailing four primary qualities: a deepest concern, a result of that deepest concern, a flaw (sometimes called a fatal flaw) and a journey.

1. Deepest Concern: referred to in philosophy as one’s telos, this is that which defines the character on the most fundamental level. This is what they are either consciously or unconsciously striving for in life, that goal for which they’re working.
2. Result: this is how that deepest concern manifests in the character’s mannerisms, traits and behaviors. Sometimes, the result can be good, while at other times the result is unfortunately counterproductive.
3. Flaw: this is the character’s psychological weakness, which the opponent character is to discover and exploit. But the protagonist’s success in rising above this flaw is what makes his ultimate triumph in the story so truly powerful, and the antagonist’s succumbing to it emphasizes his truly tragic character.
4. Journey: this is how your character grows throughout the story, how he gets from seeing his goal or deepest concern and actually achieving it, or changing so that he has a new and far greater deepest concern.

In order to demonstrate each of these, I’ll use The Choice of Anonymity and share the psychological profiles of my protagonist (Cale Anders) and my antagonist (Formulus).

Cale Anders’ Psychological Profile (protagonist)

Deepest Concern: love of family. Seeks to emulate his father.

Result: struggles with the reality of his father’s own fallibilty. Also sometimes comes across as more fatherly toward his girlfriend, for which she teases him.

Flaw: tries to assume the protective/father role of his friends, with the result that he loses sight of who he really is and represses his own struggles. In order to cover up for this fatherly demeanor, he sometimes intersperses his speech with odd and goofy phrases.

Journey: comes to learn who he really is apart from others, when not in the protective/fatherly role. Eventually grows strong enough to confront the problems which he had suppressed for the sake of others.

Formulus’ Psychological Profile (antagonist)

Deepest Concern: desperate curiosity, beyond a reckless extent.

Result: has little regard for human life, and so he racks up an enormous body count without much care. He develops a love/hate relationship with humanity, seeking to understand them and find someone like himself, but growing dangerously angry at the seeming failure of his “experiments.”

Flaw: doesn’t know who he is and fears being unique, thinking that it will leave him inescapably alone in the world.

Journey: develops an affinity for Cale, thinking he’s found a kindred spirit, only to go too far in his obsessive curiosity, resulting in his own destruction.

With these four characteristics, you will establish who each of your characters are on the most fundamental level, as well as how they will grow and change throughout the book. Along with these, you can incorporate other quirks of personality, like Cale’s love of astronomy and psychology, or Formulus’ rage toward his makers. Now with secondary characters, you don’t necessarily need to have all of these factors; in general, I think the more important the character, the more you need a psychological profile. But I certainly wouldn’t spend an hour drawing out a psychological profile for the mailman who says one line and is never seen again. It’s just more work than it’s worth.

So now that you have your plot and the characters to engage with that plot, you are ready to move on to the third part of our core triumvirate: setting. But for that, you will have to wait until next week.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which I explore the creation of a setting!

The Craft of Writing, Part One: Plot

Greetings, and a fair day to those of you reading this! I hope the past week has treated you well. Mine has been busy getting back into the swing of things, but I’ll soon pick up the energy I need. Now I would like to begin a new seven-part series on the craft of writing. Essentially, I want to cover everything from plot to character development to pacing, and the most important things in between. Most of what I plan on sharing with you is what I’ve picked up over the course of my…twelve?…years of writing. I’m not claiming to be an expert, but based on what I’ve learned over the years, I’ve found that I’ve become more sensitive to examples of poor writing. In addition, my writing skills often translate into a deeper understanding of stories in any medium, which is why when I watch movies with my wife, I’ve learned to keep my predictions to myself; I have spoiled too much with my startling accuracy, to my wife’s utter annoyance.

In my senior year of high school, my English teacher taught us that there are three chief components to storytelling: plot, characters and setting. A perfect balance of these will create a balanced story, but you can still be memorable if at least one of these is done well. Today, I want to talk about what I feel to be the most important of these three: plot. After all, without a plot, there is no story. If you focus on just character development, you end up with a psychological profile but no story, and if you focus on just setting, you’ve essentially described a painting. Plot, my friends, is the action of the story, that which pushes the reader forward in time (or backward, if the plot involves time travel).

So then what is plot? Plot is the events of the story. This is what happens. Suppose, for instance, that I were to tell you a story where a man and a woman go into the woods, only to confront a werewolf, who chases them back to the village, then that confrontation and the ensuing chase would be the plot.

Since this is the basis of the story (what makes a story a story), then this is where I would advise you to begin. This is born from a single, core idea, perhaps an event or a scenario. Perhaps a virus infects a family member and is determined to be highly contagious. Or perhaps a man goes to visit his dear aunt, only to find a colony of ants spelling out words in her living room. I began watching a movie earlier called Don’t Blink, in which ten friends go up to a cabin for the weekend only to find all people and wildlife have seemingly vanished from the area (kind of similar to Ghost Ship, only at a cabin instead of a lost vessel). It doesn’t really matter what that event or scenario is, but once you have it, then you can begin to play around with it. What will a set of characters do in response? Will they search for answers? Will they go on a quest? Or will they turn on each other?

From this, you begin to develop the plot, threshing it out into a story. Here’s where it begins to get difficult, and to demonstrate this, I’ll first explain a tactic I used unsuccessfully when I was young, and then I’ll describe my regular process now. When I was in the seventh grade, I began to write a book called The Choice of Anonymity. The plot was simple: a shapeshifter begins murdering people in a town, and a kid has to stop him. That was literally all I had when I first began writing. So naturally, I didn’t get very far. After about two or three chapters, I realized that I had no idea where I was going. I had no endgame in mind and no guide to get me there. So the book ended.

Fast forward eleven years. I chose to return to The Choice of Anonymity, but I wanted to do it right this time. So before I even began, I thought out a bunch of scenarios all relating to that one central theme (the murderous shapeshifter). I thought of a group of zombified students chasing my characters through a school. I thought of a daring escape from a collapsing hospital. I imagined a religious experience at the altar in a church. A murder in an observatory. A house that comes alive. I wrote each of these on a notecard. I chose a starting point (my main character sees a neighbor’s house burning down), and an ending point (my main character has a confrontation with the shapeshifter himself), and I put those on either end of a spectrum. Then, all I had to do was organize the rest of the events in a logical order, fill in the blanks to connect them into a reasonable storyline, and then bam! I have my plot. This is called storyboarding. Below is a picture of my storyboard for The Choice of Anonymity.

By storyboarding, you’re able to do a number of extremely important things. First, you’re able to add much more complexity to the storyline. After all, if you don’t fully understand your story, then you’re fairly limited, for you’ll be forced to either keep it simple or any complexity you try to add will become incomprehensible. How many times have you watched a television show only for it to become painfully obvious that the writers have no idea where they’re taking it? Heroes, for instance, knew exactly where it was going in the first season, but after that, the writers fumbled around with no storyboard, and the quality was significantly diminished. The same happened to Supernatural once it went beyond season five. It’s still enjoyable, but just nowhere near what it once was. On the other end of the spectrum was Carnivale, which had a storyboard for more seasons than the show got picked up on (if only it could have controlled its budget, alas). So the storyboard allows you to have a much greater control over your story, giving you the power to develop greater – but, more importantly, coherent – complexity in it.

But there’s also a much more fundamental purpose to the storyboard which I’ve already hinted at: coherency. I’m talking about plot holes. A plot hole is a place where you look at the story and realize that something didn’t quite work out logically. Perhaps a character reveals information that there’s no way he should have known. Or perhaps your antagonist tracks your characters to a tavern, only for you to realize there’s no way he should have known they were there. These issues can be catastrophic for your story, for if they are critical enough to the plot, then the whole plot can break down, leaving your story in unappreciated shambles. But the storyboard allows you to correct for this! By looking at the storyboard closely for hours at a time until your eyeballs begin to ache, you can pinpoint plot holes and then, with the whole storyline sitting before you, you can reconfigure and massage the plot until the problem is reconciled.

Finally, when your storyboard is perfected, polished and totally coherent, you can begin the next few steps. But before that, I want to touch on one last concept: organic writing. Organic writing is when you sit down with no plan and choose to go wherever the story takes you. This is in stark contrast to what I’ve described in this article. I will say that organic writing is a good and powerful tool for improving your own abilities as a writer. I, myself, do it once every couple of weeks or so in order to test myself and keep my writing mind sharp. However, organic writing is, in my opinion, better suited to shorter works, like short stories or flash fiction (stories of a thousand words or less). But if a book is what you’re going for, I don’t believe organic writing will get you there, at least not without a severe sacrifice in quality. It sure didn’t work when I first attempted The Choice of Anonymity.

I hope this has helped you writers out there. If your process is different than mine, please, I encourage you to share it in a comment. After all, a challenge to do things differently is a great opportunity for growth.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which I’ll discuss character development!

Faults and Absence

Good day, or as the Texans say, good day, y’all! I’ve only been living in San Antonio for a year-and-a-half, so that word hasn’t made it into my vocabulary yet, though it has worked its way into my wife’s language, so I believe the day will come when people will hear me say “y’all.”

Now that I’ve sufficiently bored you by talking about my vocabulary, let’s move into the meat and potatoes of today’s post. In truth, I had two different topics chosen, but I couldn’t choose between them, so I’ve decided to go with both! The first has to do with an experience I had recently, and the second with a philosophical thought I had yesterday.

1: My own moral faults

As someone who reads this blog regularly would know, I have a frequent struggle with a judgmental attitude. In the past, I gave greater reign to my judgment of others, but in the past four years, I’ve put more conscious effort into loving, rather than judging, others. As a reflection of this, a judgmental attitude has become one of the things which I oppose the strongest, and it’s something that I simply cannot stand. I hate judgmental claims because, quite simply, I hate my tendency to make them.

I thought I’d been getting better at not being judgmental. Then, while I was out to eat with a group of friends on Sunday, I found myself twice delving into deep, vicious judgments of others, first of those who I deemed “dumb” and second of a scriptwriter on a project I was remotely involved in. I won’t delve into my views of her particular script, but suffice to say that I unleashed a furious judgment on it, which quickly expanded into a judgment of the writer herself. But as I was judging most harshly, I was blessed with a metaphorical gut-punch from my wife. She later felt bad for deflating me, and I felt bad for needing to be deflated, but it was ultimately for the best, as she helped to jar me out of that hateful, self-righteous mindset.

Looking back, I still feel guilt over my judgmental attitude in our conversations. But I need to realize that I’m not perfect, and so I have much growing to do in order to become who God wants me to be. And with that in mind, I also need to thank God for blessing me with the infrequently gut-punching wife that I need to push me into becoming that better person.

2: The absence of evidence

In a mostly unrelated topic, I found myself later that same afternoon thinking about whether or not there is evidence for the existence of God. I’ve heard much from both sides of the debate: atheists who claim their is no such evidence, and Christians who claim there is.

On the side of the atheists, the main argument proceeds as follows: there is no evidence for the existence of God; therefore, that absence should be taken as proof of God’s nonexistence. It’s a fairly simple argument that most atheists find persuasive, but which all Christians (as well as persons of other faiths) reject. There are more vigorous interchanges and nuances which I will not explore. Instead, I find the need to point out its flawed core. You see, in the world of logic, there exists a particular fallacy called the Argumentum ex Silentio, or the Argument from Silence. The fallacy is in assuming that a lack of evidence is enough to disprove an idea, entity or event. But alas, this type of thinking is fallacious. After all, there’s no proof that a person ever died on the patch of Earth outside my bedroom window, but that in no way proves that no one in the history of the Earth ever died on that patch of land. The only argument that can be made is that if such an event ever did occur, there is no evidence of it now. So to the atheist, one must simply say that if God does exist, there is no evidence of it. That is all that can be said on that.

Now on the other side, there is the Christian (typically, at least in America) who makes the claim that there is evidence for God’s existence. Volumes could be filled with claims of such evidence, and all to bolster the claim for God’s reality. But there is an issue here as well. Suppose, for a moment, that there was actual, indefatigable proof that God exists. When presented with that undeniable truth, any reasonable person would have no choice but to believe in God, just as they would have no choice but to believe that there are shoes on their feet (if they’re wearing them). But to this I ask: is that belief, then, still an act of faith?

You see, if you choose to believe in God because reason tells you that is the most logical choice, then you’re not really making any steps in faith. You’re simply doing what’s logical and reasonable. The implication of this is that you’re not putting God at the top above everything. Why? Because you’re still holding to reason as that thing which has your utmost loyalty. Choosing God based on evidence means that you’re loyal first to reason, and only secondarily to God.

But if, on the other hand, you choose to believe in God despite the lack of evidence, then your choice gains a new, heroic dimension, for you’re not doing so because of the dictates of reason and logic. Your choice proves that in that moment, you have the ultimate faith, a faith which subordinates reason to God, rather than God to reason. You’re saying that you trust God above and beyond the bounds of reason. While it’s good to use your brain and exercise your capacity for logical thinking, God is ultimately greater and more important.

Personally, I don’t believe there is evidence of God’s existence. But rather than state this from an atheistic perspective, I see this as a gift from God, for by hiding the evidence, he’s giving us a far greater and more faithful power to choose him, even when it may seem unreasonable to do so. And that act, that single choice, will bring you closer to him than reason or logic ever could.

Until next time, friends…

Since I’ll be out of town for the next two weeks, the next time you’ll hear from me will be three weeks from now. So I wish you all a Merry Christmas, Happy Hanukkah and a very good New Year! I shall see thee in 2016!

The Combined Universe, in Fiction

Hello! I earnestly hope that you had a good, no a great, Halloween. My wife and I ended up running a 5K for an animal defense charity, and we did it dressed like Jack and Sally from The NIghtmare Before Christmas. Our dog joined us, dressed like a pumpkin, and we ended up winning the award for best dog/owner costume combination. It was awesome.

Anyway, I also hope you enjoyed last week’s bout of scary stories. I had fun writing them. Now with stories in mind, I wanted to take the next two weeks to discuss an interesting trend in the fictional world: combined universes. This week, I’ll explain exactly what a combined universe is, and next week, I’ll explore some of the more famous ones we’re seeing in movies these days.

What is a combined universe?

A combined universe is a concept in fiction wherein multiple works all take place within the same universe. This becomes most obvious when you get crossovers, like when the main character from one book shows up as a minor character in another book. Suppose, for instance, you have a book about a man named John Grey who explores a haunted house and only barely escapes from the ghosts within. Now suppose you have a second book which takes place fifty years later, in which a boy named Eddie Black is being pursued by evil spirits. Then, suddenly, an old man shows up and saves him. Eventually, you come to realize that Eddie’s savior is the old and worn John Grey. Eddie is still the main character of his own book, mind you, and Mr. Grey is only a minor character, or a side character; it’s always clear that this is Eddie’s story, not Mr. Grey’s. Now when you put these two books together, what you discover is that they take place in the same fictional universe, and together, John and Eddie’s stories tell a greater story. This is a combined universe.

Now to be totally clear, it must be established that a book series does not constitute a combined universe. For instance, the Harry Potter series does not take place in a combined universe, because, put simply, the books tell one main story (Harry’s story) with no crossover with other books. If J.K. Rowling decided to write a separate series focused on, say, Professor Lupin’s exploits, or Mad-Eye Moody’s adventures, or perhaps detailing the stories which Gilderoy Lockhart claimed were his own, then you would have a combined universe because these stories would intertwine and intersect with Harry’s story but without being subsumed by it. Am I clear as mud on this?

Here are two examples from one of the masters of science fiction/horror, H.P. Lovecraft. Lovecraft famously created two combined universes, one referred to as the Cthulhu Mythos and the other known as the Dream Cycle. In the Cthulhu Mythos, Lovecraft used a number of stories all related to one malevolent being known as Cthulhu. All stories in this combined universe relate in some way to the interaction between regular humans and these evil, godlike alien beings, Cthulhu being the most famous of them. The fact that some characters recurred through stories, and the stories took place at different times and places, established that the Cthulhu Mythos constituted one fictional universe. Lovecraft’s Dream Cycle is very similar, only instead of the focus being evil alien monsters, it is instead on strange realms and lands only accessible via dreams and visions. Again, the recurring characters and plot elements establish that all the stories encapsulated by the Dream Cycle take place in a single combined universe.

I hope I’m becoming more clear here. The basic premise is that the writer is using multiple, intertwining stories to tell the greater story of the evolution of a single event, or entity, or history of a world. This is especially popular in comic books, in which one comic book character who has his own series will have a run-in with another comic book character who has her own series, thus establishing that both series take place in the same universe. Some writers seem to like this concept, while others avoid it, and still others dip their toes in it every now and then. Stephen King, for instance, occasionally suggests some sort of combined universe through the tiniest of hints, though so much more of his work can be considered stand-alone material. Writer Darren Shan, on the other hand, who made it big with his amazing Cirque Du Freak series, had the tiniest of possible connections between his last Cirque book and his later series, The Demonata. However, in an interview with a fan, Shan denied the connection, thus obliterating the possibility of a combined universe (unless he has since changed his mind).

But by far, one of the most famous of these was constructed by the writer of The Lord of the Rings, Mr. J.R.R. Tolkien. While many of his works can be read as stand-alone novels or trilogies (like The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings and The Silmarillion), these works cohesively tell the history from beginning to end of the world of Middle-Earth. Middle-Earth, thus, constitutes a combined universe.

More often these days, what we’re starting to see is a shift toward what is called a Cinematic Universe. A Cinematic Universe is, quite simply, a combined universe established in film, rather than in books. But, seeing as that is the focus of next week’s article, I will withhold that explanation until then.

Until next time, friends…

How Should Christians Grow?

Hello, and how do you do? Feel free to answer in a comment below, for I really want to know. Before I begin, let me offer a bit of advice that I learned this last Friday: don’t be dumb with your health. For instance, don’t go all day without drinking water, then go and donate some of your plasma, then stuff yourself with pizza and three beers, because then your wife may come home and find you in intense pain on the couch. Not that I’m speaking from personal experience or anything…

Today at work, I found myself pondering some things which have plagued my mind incessantly as of late. I find it perplexing that, here in San Antonio, we can have fifteen megachurches, about four hundred churches between any two of them, and yet still have congregations where 90% of their members rarely open their Bibles. It’s almost enough for me to think that many of my fellow Christians like the Bible as an idea, but they’re not so fond of actually opening the thing up and seeing what’s inside. I don’t think it’s enough to call it the Word of God or claim its infallibility if you’re not willing to crack it open and see what it is you’re claiming is infallible. I’m thinking of starting a new habit with myself where, when I see a fellow Christian, my opening question won’t be “how are you?” but rather “what’s the last thing you read in the Bible?” What do you think, too pushy? Or pushy in a good way? I would appreciate your advice on this potential endeavor.

With these thoughts in mind, I’d like to take some time and explain what I think are the three primary types of material which can help us grow as Christians. Just to be clear, I’m going concrete here, so while the ultimate substance which can help us grow is God himself, I’m talking things you can hold in your hands. I am speaking, of course, of reading material.

 1. Evangelistic Writings

Evangelistic writings are essentially the types of material in which a person preaches through their writing, and the goal is to help others to work through spiritual issues. This can take the form of encouragement, or on the other end of the spectrum, exhortation (telling people what’s wrong). It can be guided tours through certain pitfalls in this life, or simply the memoirs of someone of spiritual note, sharing their stories, their tribulations and their triumphs. These are kind of like Christian self-help works, helping people to clean up their own messes or sharpen their own religious behaviors. But one aspect of these types of writings which I find most fascinating is their ability to translate the material of the Bible into a modern context, helping people to understand how their faith is to fit in our modern world.

With that in mind, there’s also one thing which must be taken into account: much evangelistic material is written by non-experts. There are enormous volumes of evangelistic writings composed by people who, quite honestly, don’t know what they’re talking about. Now don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of evangelistic writings drafted by professionals, or consisting of people simply sharing their stories, and these are of enormous value to you in your spiritual growth, but this category also has the least oversight, so the chances are higher here that you’ll find some not-so-good stuff mixed in with the really, really good stuff. So just be careful, is all I’m saying.

 2. Scholarly Writings

This type of material deals very little with encouraging spiritual growth or helping you deal with problems. Instead, these writings are written for the express purpose of enhancing one’s religious knowledge. That can consist of analyses of Bible passages or of the Bible itself, explanations about theological topics or branches of philosophy written from the Christian perspective, or even historical accounts of the growth of the faith itself. Want to know about the Crusades? Find something written by a scholar. Want to know about Saint Anselm of Canterbury, or the evolution of belief in fallen angels (that was, in fact, one of the main components to my own Master’s thesis), or what the socio-historical context was of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians? Then scholarly writings are where you want to look. At the core, the main goal of scholarly writings is to enhance a person’s knowledge of their own faith. This is incredibly important because this type of material keeps us more realistic and accurate in our understanding of the Bible. Too often, it seems, people describe Biblical events or the ancient worldview in ways which are wildly false, and a quick read of a scholarly writing can fix those errors.

The scholarly material has one advantage over the evangelistic material, but this, unfortunately, also makes it radically less popular among normal Christians: it is written by experts. Yes, scholarly material usually goes through a process called “peer review,” in which highly-trained Biblical experts (almost always holding advanced graduate degrees) will critically examine a work of writing by a fellow expert. The writer will then account for these reviews by adjusting his or her work to be both true and accurate. This ensures much greater reliability on the part of the writer, but it also, unfortunately, tends to make this type of material much dryer, more dense than evangelistic writings. So scholarly work is, in general, more trustworthy, but it is also much more difficult to read, and offers little practical advice beyond the expansion of core knowledge (simply because that is its primary goal).

3. The Bible

Of course, who could forget that collection of scriptural works which forms the foundation of our very faith? The evangelistic and scholarly works may say a lot, but the Bible is quite often that stuff about which they’re talking, the very root and core of those writings. And yet, I find so many Christians who stick with one of the others (most often the evangelistic writings) and never actually read the Bible itself! How in the world does that make the slightest bit of sense?!

Admittedly, I was once guilty of this, and not too long ago. I was reading scholarly works almost exclusively, and when my wife (then my fiancée) asked about me reading the Bible, I shrugged it off. But she prayed and her prayers have come through, so now I find myself diving into the scriptures on a daily basis! Having just finished the book of Ezekiel, I’m now reading Jeremiah (and wishing I’d read Jeremiah first, seeing as how he lived one generation earlier than Ezekiel, but you can’t change the past). This is really what’s been plaguing my mind as of late. But just a few hours ago, my brother-in-law (who does his own blog here) asked me a question about something he’d read during his daily Bible reading, and I found that highly encouraging. It gives me hope that there are still some people out there reading their Bibles, and actually diving in trying with all their hearts to discern its meaning.

As with the others, there is a caveat to this: the Bible is not always easy to understand. It was written over the course of about a thousand years, by dozens of writers living in cultures radically different from our own, so not everything translates as easily as we’d like it to. For instance, what the heck is a threshing-floor? I suppose farmers would know that one. What’s a cubit*? How do all the Levitical Laws work, and how are they relevant today? These concepts are often unclear in our modern context, and this leads to much of the confusion among evangelists and scholars. But if you’re confused, don’t worry, because you’re bound to find works in the other two categories that will help clear up some of this frustration (or just make it worse, depending on whose work you’re reading).

In our daily studies, it’s easy to get caught in the trap of only studying two of these types of writings, or sometimes only one. But all three have their benefits, and, I firmly believe, all three should be studied by everyone. I’m not saying you should read from all three at the same time, of course. I think you should read the Bible everyday, but perhaps vary between the scholarly and evangelistic works, reading one type once you’ve finished reading something in the other category. This tactic will help to keep you balanced as a Christian, to help you grow both in knowledge and in maturity. If you focus all your thoughts on evangelistic works, you’ll find your understanding of the Bible and theology becoming less and less accurate and you’ll inadvertently start deviating from the truth. But if you focus purely on scholarly works, your knowledge will grow but with no growth in maturity. You won’t have the evangelistic writings to help guide your spiritual life and outward behavior. You need a balance of the two.

And, of course, you must never leave behind that collection of writings which is the foundation of both.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which I begin a series called “What Scholars Really Say.” In it, I’ll dispel modern myths about the Bible and show what scholars believe to be the truth.

*a cubit, at least in Egypt, was considered the distance from the Pharaoh’s elbow to the tip of his middle finger. This eventually became standardized as approximately 18 inches.

Discover Who You Are, Part One

Salutations, fair readers! Today, I’d like to begin a very special series about discovering your own identity. Indeed, your identity is one of the most important things about you; it affects your behaviors, your beliefs, your self-esteem and self-worth, even how you view and engage with other people. To be clear, your identity is who you see yourself to be, and so it is intimately tied up with your sense of personal worth. Most people take years – even decades – to discover their own identity. They may move from place to place, from country to country, job to job or even from religion to religion trying to figure out who they are. The years we spend as teenagers are especially difficult because those are the awkward years between not-quite-kid anymore and not-yet-adult. We make stupid decisions because we’re in the process of discovering ourselves.

Many people find their identity in what they do for a living. As a matter of fact, when you meet someone new and learn their name, is there any other question that comes to your mind before “what do you do for a living?” Writers, lawyers, doctors, janitors, teachers, even astronauts tend to find their identity not in who they are but in what they do. This may work for a long, long time, but it becomes a serious issue when the person gets fired or retires. Suddenly, their identity is lost and they’re left wondering: if I’m no longer (insert occupation here), then what am I? This can lead to anything from wild, reckless living to huge impulse purchases to devastating despair. But good news! There’s a way around this, a way of finding your identity that makes it resolute and set in stone. This is a process that’s actually fairly simple, and I want you to follow me on it.

Today, we’ll cover step one: finding out what you like. This may seem a bit selfish at the start, but just go with me. Make a list of your likes and dislikes. Now I’m not saying that you should list your favorite foods or the smells that you can’t stand. Instead, focus on your behaviors and hobbies. What kinds of things interest you? What things make you excited?

Take me for example. I’ve found that I love stories, especially those about monsters. I also like to wonder about philosophy and the universe. From this, I decided to spend my college years studying religion and philosophy, wherein my most passionate focus was the stories of the Bible. I often couldn’t care less about the politics or practical applications of the Bible; no, what I loved were the stories and the philosophy. In addition, I also majored in astronomy, exploring the universe through my studies. My wife, on the other hand, discovered in high school that she has a deep love of the German language, so she made that the focus of her studies.

But you don’t have to be in college to explore these things. You can go to a bookstore or bum around online, looking for anything written about your topic (though I would earnestly recommend that you seek out the experts and educate yourself as much as possible). You can begin focusing on hobbies that allow you to engage with your hobby. When I was in high school, for instance, I became involved in the theater due to my love of stories and storytelling. If performing is your interest, consider a sport or Speech Club. Even if you love something as strange as arguing and yelling, then the Debate Team awaits, you weirdo! (Don’t be offended, I’m a weirdo, too, just in different ways!)

So take a nice, deep look at yourself and see what you love to do or learn about. Figure out how you can put that interest into practice so that you can get better at it or more knowledgeable about it. Whether it’s Civil War reenacting, camping, spelunking or reading mystery novels, find what you love and do what you love (as long as it’s legal). And if you have the time, begin prioritizing those hobbies, ranking them based on what you love most down to what you love least, and put your most effort into the ones on top. That’s more for the sake of not over-extending yourself, which is an easy way of pushing yourself too far and sucking the joy out of all of them. Try and whittle your interests down to your top two or three, or maybe even four if you just can’t get the list any smaller. Then, when you’ve figure this out, you’ll be ready to move to step 2.

Until next time, friends…

Stay tuned for my next blog post, in which we’ll get to Step 2!