Courageously, Headlong, and Heedless of the Consequences
Lately I have been struggling once again with the hydra that is my fears of composing original fiction. Cut one head off and another two sprout, each one screaming that I'll never be good enough to do what I've known I was supposed to do since I was a teenager. The chorus from hell only grows louder and more vicious every time I attack it. Is it any wonder I give up and hide for years at a time?
One fear manifested recently because of all the non-fiction reading I have done and the many lectures I have listened to. I am far from finished in my search for knowledge and information, but in this time certain sureties about Christianity have sloughed away. I have seen the hand of God in my life and in the lives of my loved ones too often and too clearly to ever say He is not there, but many Sunday-school and even youth-group taught dogmas have been thoroughly shaken as I try to better understand the book I never really grasped to begin with; The Bible.
I am not sure of many things, therefore I cannot intentionally weave God into my stories. Once upon a time I had enough surety that I wove Him into a select few of my fanfictions, to surprisingly positive responses. Now I stare at the Christian fiction shelf I once hoped to occupy and I know that at this time, short of forcing some propagandistic tale into the correct shape, I cannot give a triumphant story that declares absolutely any aspect of the nature of God. I do not have those satisfactory answers I feel necessary to construct a good story, and I begin to wonder if I ever will. I've lost surety (though not belief) and I don't know if I can find it again.
The hydra screams at me. You can't attain what you used to aim for anymore. You'll never tell a story that sets someone's feet on a rock when they're out flailing in the water. You will never answer your own questions well enough to answer anyone else's. Traitor to the entire genre you hoped to revive! What's the point if you can't directly glorify God in your writing? Don't bother!
I have been re-reading a good book called 12 Rules for Life by Jordan Peterson. In his 7th rule, he takes a segment to analyze one of his favorite novels, The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky.
"The profundity of {the fable of The Grand Inquisitor within The Brothers Karamazov} and the greatness of spirit necessary to produce it can hardly be exaggerated. Dostoevsky, one of the great literary geniuses of all time, confronted the most serious existential problems in all his great writings, and he did so courageously, headlong, and heedless of the consequences. Clearly Christian, he nonetheless adamantly refuses to make a straw man of his rationalist and atheistic opponents. Quite the contrary: In The Brothers Karamazov, for example, Dostoevsky's atheist, Ivan, argues against the presuppositions of Christianity with unsurpassable clarify and passion. Alyosha, aligned with the Church by temperament and decision, cannot undermine a single one of his brother's arguments (although his faith remains unshakable). Dostoevsky knew and admitted that Christianity had been defeated by the rational faculty--by the intellect, even--but (and this is of primary importance) he did not hide from that fact. He didn't attempt through denial or deceit or even satire to weaken the position that opposed what he believed to be most true and valuable. He instead placed action above words, and addressed the problem successfully. By the novel's end, Dostoevsky has the great embodied moral goodness of Alyosha--the novitiate's courageous imitation of Christ--attain victory over the spectacular but ultimately nihilistic critical intelligence of Ivan."
--Jordan B. Peterson, 12 Rules For Life
Courageously. Headlong. Heedless of the consequences.
Maybe people need stories about doubt and confusion sometimes. Maybe sometimes people need stories about feeling lost and unsure of the world. Unsure of God. Unsure of their own senses. Maybe writing to the utmost of my ability is, itself, glorifying to God. Maybe, if I leave it open enough, I'll find Him in my story even if I didn't explicitly set out to. Maybe I don't have to control the story so hard in the direction I'm positive it's supposed to go, because it has never, ever worked that way for me.
A good and honest writer confronts problems and writes courageously, headlong, and heedless of the consequences. I think it is a worthwhile axiom to adopt.