Now that Nathan Bransford’s out of the agenting biz, his opinions about self-publishing appear to be… evolving. In Traditional vs. Self-Publishing is a False Dichotomy, he writes:

There is no “us” vs. “them.” Traditional vs. self-publishing is a false dichotomy. It’s an illusion created by people who either have let their frustrations get the best of them or are trying to sell you something. We’re all writers trying to figure out the best way to get our books to readers. We’re all on the same team.

No, the traditional publishing industry is not a hive of retrograde monsters out to steal and eat your newborn children. No, self-publishing is not a gang of unwashed crap artists trying to poison the literary well forever.

Publishing is a spectrum of choice, from traditional publishers who pay you, will handle most things for you and assume all risk in exchange for certain rights to your book, to self-publishing where you handle everything yourself, pay your own way, and adopt your own risk. And there’s a whole lot more choice in between those two poles.

What’s the right way? There is no right way.

Bransford’s magnanimity toward self-publishing is part of what Forbes’ contributor Alan Rinzler recognized as a “notable shift” in the industry. Whereas most agents, like publishers, once viewed self-publishing as a bane, its explosive popularity (for writers and readers) has forced the gatekeepers to rethink their enmity. (Although, if the comments on THIS POST are any indication, there’s still quite a bit of animosity between camps.)

So is this just the agents, and industry, scrambling for footing, attempting to justify their existence by courting a broader market? Is this an admission to being behind the eight ball? And is Bransford correct — There is no right way?

Having attended the OCCWF Conference last week, I can say that these questions are alive and well. Of course, I’m speaking from my limited experience. But if  publishing is “a spectrum of choice,” that conference was tilted toward the “traditional publishing” choice.

Was this intentional? I doubt it. It’s just the way things have always been done. Which may be part of the problem. Of course, this is not meant to suggest that there were no voices for self-publishing or that self-published authors / works were viewed as inferior. Nevertheless, the clear (if unspoken) sentiment was that traditional publishing is the ideal. There may not be a “right choice,” but if the writers and reps attending that conference were any indication, there are “better choices.”

The reality of what Bransford asserts, that there is no genuine demarcation between traditional and self-publishing, seems incongruous to existing structures. We might be coming to believe in the validity of all mediums, but has that really taken hold throughout the industry? My sense is that writers conferences are part of an old model, one that’s tethered to the traditional publishing industry and designed to support its machinations. I could be wrong, but that’s the feeling I’m getting.

Anyway, I’d love to know your thoughts. What would a writers conference look like if there really was no right way, if traditional and self-publishing were both given equal footing?

Nancy Fulda is a mother, a sci-fi / fantasy author, and the chief administrator of AnthologyBuilder (a popular site which allows customers to create custom anthologies from a selection of over 1400 different stories by more than 350 authors). Nancy’s stories have appeared in such venues as Asimov’s Science Fiction Magazine and ClarkesWorld. Her Hugo and Nebula Award-nominated short story, “Movement,” appeared in Asimov’s and is available free on Nancy’s website. She lives with her family in Germany. Nancy graciously took time to visit with me and answer some questions. Enjoy!

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MIKE: Nancy, I appreciate you stopping by! For somebody unfamiliar with your work, how would you describe your fiction? Are there themes or ideas that are recurrent in your stories? Are there specific places, emotionally, historically, or geographically, that you want to take your readers?

NANCY: My work can be described as character-driven science fiction and fantasy.  I seldom begin a story with a specific emotional destination in mind; I find it far more fun to journey along with the characters and see where they end up.  I sift through a lot of story ideas looking for compelling characters – men and women that I’d be willing to spend an entire novel getting to know.  Once I find one, I begin to explore the world that person lives in.

These worlds are often very different from the one we inhabit. “In the Halls of the Sky-Palace”, for example, is set in a cliffside castle whose monarch has stopped aging. “Dead Men Don’t Cry” is set on a world colonized by sleeper ships (and subsequently threatened by FTL imperialism), while “Knowing Neither Kin Nor Foe” is set on a world with no humans at all.

I’m drawn to science fiction and fantasy because these genres aren’t constrained by the rules of the world you and I live in.  I can write about dragon riders, artificial intelligence, telepathy, you name it, and as long as I write it well enough, the reader will eagerly join the journey. For an author, that can be a very liberating experience, especially because many aspects of the human condition are difficult to explore head-on.  Autism, for example is a highly controversial issue, and one that very few authors can claim to write about with any authority.  By inventing a condition for the main character of “Movement” that was similar-to-yet-not-precisely autism, I was able to explore concepts related to sensory processing and neurodiversity that would have been very difficult to render believably in a non-science-fictional context.

MIKE: Sounds fascinating. You’ve garnered significant praise for your writing. You won the Jim Baen Memorial Contest, the Phobos Award, had a pair of Writers of the Future finalist stories, and now you’ve been nominated for a Nebula award. Thus far in your career, what do you consider your biggest accomplishments?

NANCY: There are three of them, and at this moment two of them are at kindergarten and one is watching a movie during his day off school.

It might sound strange or even pretentious to cite one’s children as a career achievement, but the older I get the more aware I become that the diverse activities of our lives do not exist in isolation.   The energy invested in the creative process is not manufactured out of nothing; it must be drawn from other areas of our lives, and there is always the danger that, as artists, we will draw too much; push too hard; and leave other essential tasks incomplete.

I know mothers who are frustrated at how little time they find to work on their novel, fathers who work a day job and publish regularly and struggle to remain a part of their children’s lives, friends who have lost a marriage over writing-related issues.  My sister likens managing career plus family to the task of plate-spinning.  You’ve got these incredibly fragile porcelain discs twirling precariously at the top of slender rods, and you’re constantly on the jump to add momentum when one of them starts wobbling.  And if you spend too long with any given plate, several of the others will fall.

I consider this an apt analogy.  Every accomplishment we achieve in life comes with an opportunity cost.  And so the thing I consider most significant about my career is the fact that it has not usurped too many of my other duties.  I have been fortunate in managing to write AND parent, and find joy in both.

MIKE: I’ve contended that writing short stories is a good way for an author to develop their writing chops. However, some authors seem to frown on writing short stories. Novels are where it’s at, they say. As someone who’s written short stories almost exclusively, how do you see it? Is there a case for making – or starting — a career writing short stories?

NANCY: Of course.  But there’s a case for starting a writing career with three years of meditation at the top of an isolated mountain, too.

I would counsel new writers not to worry so much about what they start with, just so long as they write something.  Let it be novels, let it be fanfic; if you follow your own creative enthusiasm, it will eventually become clear to you what the next step should be.

I will say that novels and short stories are entirely different beasts.  They’re both made up of words, characters, and plot elements in much the same way that a preying mantis and an elephant are both made up of cells and DNA, but that’s about where the similarity ends.  Also, reader expectations and writers’ tool boxes vary a great deal depending on what genre you’re writing in and how old your readership is.  So writers who begin a career with short stories should expect a steep learning curve when they try to make the jump to longer work.

And longer work IS more lucrative.  Everyone in the industry seems to agree about that.  It’s very, very difficult to make a living with short fiction because, as Orson Scott Card so insightfully pointed out, the amount of worldbuilding and emotional investment required for a short story is not that much less than what’s required for a full-length novel.

The case for starting with short stories — and it’s a good one, in my opinion – is that the overall time investment for each story is less.  This means that you can submit them faster, get feedback more quickly, and will very likely obtain the encouragement of a sale earlier than would be possible with novels.  For a lot of fledgling authors, this encouragement makes it easier to keep going; it was certainly the case with me.

MIKE: We talk a lot about faith and fiction here. In a recent discussion, one reader pointed me to your blog post, “What I Do On Sunday Mornings.” In it, you share about being a Mormon and confess “…a secret corner of my brain is terrified that the moment I mention church or prayer, every reader in scifi fandom will run screaming in the opposite direction and never again buy anything I write.” Conventional wisdom says that writers should refrain from talking about their religion, much less include it in their stories. So why did you decide to “come clean”?

NANCY: That’s an interesting choice of words.  I don’t think of it so much as ‘coming clean’ as being willing to be authentic.  I’ve never concealed my religion or pretended to be something I’m not.  But I also never made a point of talking about it on my blog.

Eventually I realized that it is something I want to talk about now and then.  And that I shouldn’t censor myself just because the topic on my mind is faith or scriptures rather than writing or childraising.

It’s a delicate road to walk, of course, because religion is a sensitive topic, and laden with connotations in the public mind that aren’t integral to Christianity itself.  Whenever I blog about religion, I try to keep in mind that words like ‘atonement’, or ‘revelation’ — which have a concrete and very specific meaning within my religious community — may not mean the same things to my readers as they do to me.  The opportunities for miscommunication are immense.

MIKE: What kind of response did you get after sharing that? Was it as negative as you feared?

NANCY: The response in the blog comments was overwhelmingly positive, but of course there’s a selection bias at work there.  I will never know how many people read that post and silently disapproved.

MIKE: What role, if any, does your LDS faith play in your stories? How does it inform your fictional worlds or influence the thematic elements you choose to integrate? Is your faith something you deliberately try to keep out of your stories, or something you intentionally try to incorporate?

NANCY: A bit of both, actually.  Many of my stories are rooted in a sense of otherness and immersion in a world and culture utterly different from our own.  Religious influence in such stories would not only be brash and heavy-handed, but it would destroy the point for which the fiction was created.

In other stories, like Godshift or The Breath of Heaven, I approached the topic of religion less obliquely.  In both cases I was less concerned with LDS doctrine than with questions of theology in general.  “Godshift” postulates a God who takes a more active role in human affairs, and hints at why that might not necessarily be a good thing.  “The Breath of Heaven” follows the stream of consciousness of a synthetically intelligent computer system which concludes, through a series of logical inductions, that there must exist a higher morality than that of mere humans.

Both stories have received high praise from readers.  I suspect this is because they explore meaningful ideas without trying to push any particular ideology.

MIKE: The bibliography of Mormon Speculative Fiction is quite extensive (Orson Scott Card being one of the most prominent and outspoken). Mormon authors even have their own awards, the Whitney awards. Why do you think so many LDS authors gravitate to speculative fiction?

NANCY: I’m actually not sure whether LDS authors are more attracted to speculative fiction than other denominations are.  When you consider that the Church has more than 14 million members worldwide, it seems not only likely but inevitable that a couple of us should become prominent in the genre.

Now mind you, I don’t have any hard data on this and would welcome input from those who’ve spent more time thinking about it than I have, but I suspect that the recent apparent upswing in prominent fiction by LDS authors is due in the most part to the emergence of the social web.

In other words, there aren’t any more of us out in the literary trenches now than there were ten years ago, but because of the increasing prevalence of blogs and social media, it’s become a lot easier to find us once you start looking.

MIKE: I’m part of the Evangelical writing community. There is much debate among Evangelical fiction authors about what should characterize “Christian fiction.” Should it be G-rated, free of sex and cursing? Must it contain conversion scenes or articulate a redemptive message? Do similar debates occur in “Mormon fiction” writing circles? If so, are there agreed upon parameters about what should constitute “Mormon Speculative Fiction”?

NANCY: I’m not aware of a strong debate among Mormon authors that I’ve met.

As to the question of what “Christian Fiction” ought to mean:  I think we can draw upon other genre labels for guidance.  When I think about Science Fiction, for example, I think of stories that expand my understanding of scientific principles and broaden my vision of what science means for humanity.  I would expect Christian Fiction to function in a similar way; in other words, I would describe something as Christian Fiction if it expands my understanding of Christianity and broadens my view of humanity.

I’ve been pleased, over the past few years, to notice several award-winning stories and novels that could be characterized as both Science Fiction and Christian Fiction.  Science and religion are often portrayed antagonistically, but it doesn’t have to be that way.  I enjoy seeing authors affirm that science and religion are able to coexist, and even build upon each other, under the right circumstances.

MIKE: What advice would you give to authors who, like you, are deeply religious but unsure how to publicly navigate the intersection of their faith and their art?

NANCY: Worry less about it.

That’s not a joke.  Authors have a tendency to try too hard, to push too obstinately towards a perceived goal.  For novice authors, especially, the result is often pedantic and emotionally unengaging.  I strongly recommend that authors refrain from trying to build a moral or a specific spiritual message into their work.

Instead, I’d say to authors:  Allow yourself to write the stories that flow naturally from your mind and heart.  Find characters and situations that speak to your emotions, and explore those situations to see where they lead.  Allow themes and symbolic resonance to develop organically.

Some authors will find that religion plays a major role in the stories that emerge this way, and that they are, in fact, writing for a primarily Christian audience.  Other authors will find that their audience is broader and that their stories approach religious topics only tangentially.  But I think that all authors will find that if they write from the heart, they will feel satisfied with the outcome.

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Thanks so much, Nancy, for visiting. Great stuff! To find out more about Nancy Fulda, you can visit her website HERE.

At the conference last weekend, one aspiring author asked, “What makes my writing ‘Christian’?” It was a sincere question, one that was echoed in various ways throughout the weekend. Frankly, I was encouraged to know other believers wrestle with that issue. The answer, however, is not so easy.

Those answers usually swing between these two extremes:

• Anything a Christian writes could be considered “Christian writing”
• Only what is written specifically for a Christian audience, intended to edify believers, be morally clean, theologically accurate, and embody the Gospel could be considered “Christian writing”

So if you’d permit me a crude illustration, those differing perspectives would exist on a scale and look something like this:

CHRISTIAN WRITING IS

Anything a Christian writes  —————————- Only specific things a Christian writes

Confused yet?

Either way, I’m mostly of the former camp, believing that anything a Christian writes should be considered “Christian.” After all, Christians are to glorify God in everything we do.

So, whether you eat or drink, or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. (I Cor. 10:31).

Which creates a problem for those of the “other camp” — the “Christian writing” is only specific kinds of writing camp. I mean, if you’re supposed to do EVERYTHING to the glory of God, why must you single out your writing? Is your writing more “Christian” than, say, your driving, your shopping habits, your sales presentations, or your night out on the town?

To take it a step further, it is borderline superstitious to believe that specific words, or constructions of specific words, make something “Christian.” As if we can wave a magic wand over a story and suddenly transform its very nature.

It’s been said that “Christian music” is the only musical form defined by its lyrics. There’s nothing specifically “Christian” about a tempo, instrument, or chord. I mean, is there a “Christian” guitar riff or a “Christian” drum beat? So the “Christian” part of Christian music has to be its lyrics. (Of course, don’t tell that to Bach or Beethoven.) But do lyrics really have that much power? Do biblical references or themes inserted into a song suddenly transform it from “secular” to “spiritual”? Can a Scripture quote invest a mediocre melody with newfound potential?

Unlike music, writing is comprised entirely of lyrics, or words. Applying the above reasoning then, writing becomes “Christian” when specific words appear. The “music” of the story becomes rather inconsequential. For instance, stringing together the words “Jesus is Lord” could make a document “Christian.” The words, “You must accept Jesus as Lord” makes it VERY Christian. Conversely, the absence of certain words (insert your favorite expletive here) could do the same. Some would say profanity de-christianizes your writing. So the less cussing in a story, the more “Christian” it is.

However, there are no “secular” molecules in the universe. And I’d like to think the same applies to words.

But if this is true, how could any collection of words be more “secular” or “Christian” than any others? It’s the melody that counts. If you’re not glorifying Him with your whole life now, why should it matter that you stick references to Him in your stories? That’s hypocrisy, isn’t it?

Then again, maybe the “Christian” part of our writing doesn’t have a wit to do with our words. There’s no magic wand I can pass over my story, no words I can add or subtract to make it more or less “Christian.” Maybe what makes a story “Christian” at all is its “tune” rather than its “lyrics.”

What makes your writing “Christian”? Well, let’s start with you being one.

L to R: Andy Meisenheimer, Mick Silva, Merrie Destefano, Rachelle Gardner

The Orange County Christian Writers Fellowship 2012 Conference was a gas! It was the first time I was on staff at a writers conference, so I was a little nervous. Especially being that some staffers were industry mainstays. Nevertheless, it turned into a very profitable, really fun, experience. Here’s some random thoughts the day after…

The publishing industry is in HUGE flux — This isn’t a newsflash for anyone, of course. But listening to authors, agents, and editors, some of who’ve been in the industry for 20 and 30 years, it’s impossible to escape the realities brought on by changing technology. This was nowhere more on display than in the Sunday morning discussion between Mick Silva and Alice Crider, who represented Self-publishing and Traditional publishing respectively. The overall feeling, however, is not one of gloom and doom, but rather excitement and possibility. No matter how much it changes, the book world is NOT going away.

Meeting my agent — I think it’s safe to say, Rachelle Gardner was THE most sought after person at the conference. She had non-stop consultations all day Saturday and half the day Sunday, as well as sitting on the Friday night panel and doing a keynote speech Saturday afternoon. As Saturday evening came, we’d barely waved at each other. I hate to force things, so I just assumed this wouldn’t be the time for us to hang out. Oh well. Then, as I was getting ready for bed Saturday night, Rachelle texted me to see if we could meet for coffee Sunday a.m. We did; I was typically candid, we talked faith and friendship and business, and were even able to chat more in-depth later that day. Definitely one of the highlights of my weekend. I’m SO appreciative of her!

The unexpected highlight of the conference — I was probably most nervous about Consultations. Attendees could select to meet with any staff person in 15-minute blocks. As staff, we were told to keep our schedules free to meet with as many people as needed it. Frankly, I didn’t think many folks would be interested in talking to me. So I was surprised to start the day with seven consultations. Roughly twenty oval tables were assembled, two chairs per table, in a room adjacent to a hotel thoroughfare. Each table had a sign with a staff person’s name. My table was dead center, just next to Bill Myers (whom I managed to have a great, but short, conversation with about the Christian fiction industry). The room eventually became a hive of chatter, people lining up in the hallway waiting for their appointment. By the end of the day, I had about a dozen consultations. Pretty good for a nobody, huh? Anyway, I had so much fun meeting with, listening to, and encouraging aspiring authors and bloggers. I was even solicited to be a ghostwriter and a writing coach by two people! Which I declined, thank you.

Blogging was a surprisingly hot topic — My bio included “blogger” and it was one of the topics I said I’d be available for during consultations. Well, I was rather surprised by how often the subject came up in conversation. Not only did three of my consultations consist specifically of blogging ideas and questions, my Saturday afternoon table was attended by a number of writers with specific blogging questions. During one of my consultations, another staffer called across the room and directed someone to me, “He’s a blogger. Go ask him.” How did I become the “expert”?  Frankly, I was surprised by how little aspiring writers know about the subject and how many established authors still struggle with blogging.

The importance of developing relationships with writer-people — We writers work in isolation. We suffer neurosis, panic attacks, and low self-esteem; we talk to ourselves and actively cultivate imaginary characters. It’s no wonder that, sometimes, interaction with humans can be… awkward. The surprise is, it’s rather refreshing to mingle with people who suffer the same maladies. Friday night, I had dinner with Merrie Destefano (Urban Fantasy / Sci-fi / YA author), Mick Silva (Freelance editor / Writing Coach / Motivational speaker), and Andy Meisenheimer (freelance editor and writing coach). Yes, I’m name-dropping. We talked about the industry, our careers, our mutual faith. It was a lively, exhilarating discussion. I came away from the conference having began some new friendships and furthered existing ones. More than once someone said, “In the publishing industry, it’s all about relationships.”  More and more, I’m coming to believe that’s true.

“Good” exhaustion — Friday night I slept 3 or4 hours. Felt more like 3. Breakfast was available at 6:30 a.m. I was seated with oatmeal and fruit and 6:40. I received my schedule for the day from Heather Harshman (who did a FANTASTIC job).  Five 15-minute consultations beginning at 9 (an impromptu consult started earlier), followed by a critique group at 10:30, followed by two more consultations, then lunch (in which I “host” a table), followed by two more consults, then on to my one-hour workshop on “The Christian Speculative Fiction Writer,” and some final consultations. After which I just dropped. I returned to my hotel room and plopped, exhausted, on the bed. Soon, I began navigating my way around dinner. I was tired of meeting with people. I figured I’d sneak out to my car and get some fast food and go to bed early. Gathered my stuff and headed downstairs. But I wandered into the banquet area about 5:15, just to take a peek. They had another table for me. Ugh. I couldn’t just bail, so I sat down with my tablet and just waited to see who would wander over. Anyway, I ended up with seven or eight girls who wanted to talk about speculative fiction. It turned into the funnest, best table of the day! In fact, one of the ladies at our table won the biggest award of the day for her Spec novel. I think I slept 10 hours Saturday night, I was so tired. But it was a “good” tired.

So there’s some random observations. So much more that went on, so many interesting and important things. But that’s a thumbnail. Looking forward to doing it again.

Announcing the three winners of a signed copy of “The Telling.”

Often, throughout the writing of  The Telling, I returned to Stephen King’s words. In the intro to The Shining, King said this:

I think that in every writer’s career — usually early in it — there comes a “crossroads novel,” where the writer is presented with a choice: either do what you have done before, or try to reach a little higher. What you realize only in retrospect is how important that choice is.

The Shining was King’s “crossroads novel,” and he goes on to explain how he chose to “try to reach a little higher.” In his case, it meant taking a risk with one of his leads and, rather than simply just show the man becoming possessed, probing the psychology that turned this character into a psychopath. Not only did it take more work, it was risky.

Likewise, I wanted to reach “a little higher” with my second novel. But doing so was not without risk. Whether or not I succeeded, only time will tell. Nevertheless, here’s eight ways I attempted to “reach a little higher” in my second novel:

• More POV’s — In The Resurrection, I intentionally limited my POVs to two — a man and woman. I felt that would prepare me to handle more in the future. In The Telling, I doubled that number and have 4 POV characters. Even more fun, one of those characters is quite nuts!
• More expansive plot — Perhaps this comes with more POV characters, managing more motivations and backstory. But the big limb I go out on is the one that involves mass delusions, governmental coverups, and a storyline that stretches back to Mesolithic cave paintings and the Cold War.
• Monsters — What writer doesn’t want to make a monster? Well, the crow on the cover is a hint about mine. Actually, monster might not be the appropriate word. Either way, I wanted to combine several mythologies, and make a few of my own. One such mythology involves the “fetch.” The Irish and the Scots have legends about the Faerie Co-Walker, the Otherself, known throughout the years as Doubles, Wraiths, or Fetches. My monsters involve similar mythology. (Of great help was Reverand Robert Kirk’s The Secret Commonwealth of Elves, Fauns, and Fairies.)
• More surprises — It’s said, if you ever want to ratchet up the tension in your book, kill someone. Well, I reached a point in this novel where I knew I must kill a certain character. I liked this character very much. At first, I resisted the thought and tried to navigate the story around it, before realizing I had to do it. I’m guessing it will surprise, if not anger some readers.
• Faster paced — Frankly, The Resurrection is a bit measured and cerebral in its approach. Well, I intentionally tried to speed up The Telling, putting my characters at real risk a lot sooner.
• Darker — I open The Telling with a quote from Lovecraft’s The Dunwhich Horror, so that should tell you something. Yeah, this is a horror novel. But don’t let that scare you off, because it also has…
• Romance –  Okay, this was risky for me. Even more risky than monsters! Probably because I’ve talked so much mess about contemporary romance novels. Nevertheless, I really enjoyed crafting this specific relationship. It seemed… natural. Sure, it’s baby steps for me. Real Romance buffs will probably yawn at my fledgling attempts. But I wanted to “reach a little higher.” Besides, Horror and Romance are always a great combo!
• A map! — There’s a map at the front of my novel. Woot! No, it’s not quite as intricate as a Game of Thrones map. But now Tolkien and I share something in common.

So those are a few intentional risks I took with my second novel. Let me know whether or not you think they work.

So what are some things you are doing to “reach a little higher” in your Work in Progress?

Yep, The Telling officially releases today! Crazy, huh? Our local Barnes and Noble, where I’ll be signing copies this weekend, has set up this cool display in the front of the store. How’s that for PR? (Although, I was a little embarrassed when I was caught taking pictures of my own book. Oh, well.) My publisher informed me that the ebook version should be live by the end of this month. Anyway, in celebration of its release, I’ll be giving away three signed copies of my novel. The only “requirement” for entry is that you promise to post a brief review of the book on Amazon, Goodreads, your blog, or wherever you happen to connect with readers. Just leave a comment on this post and at week’s end I’ll randomly draw three names.  Good luck!

Not only is the grass NOT greener on the other side of the publishing fence, there IS no grass. It’s just a long arid plain with occasional watering holes.

This week, for me, is a few of those watering holes. Sorta.

First off, The Telling is now available! This is my second novel and you can find a synopsis HERE. Technically it releases tomorrow, Tuesday the 15th. But it appears books are now in stock. I’m unsure when the novel will be released in ebook, that’s the publisher’s decision. (Later this year, I’m planning to release an anthology of short stories in ebook, and possibly a non-fiction essay on a subject near and dear to my heart. But that’s a bit down the road.) For now, I’m just trying to slow down enough to celebrate this success.

Then, Friday thru Sunday, I’ll be attending and teaching at the OCCWF Conference in Newport Beach. This is my first teaching gig at a writers conference, so I’m pretty stoked. Along with leading a workshop entitled “The Christian Speculative Fiction Writer” (which writer friend Merrie Destefano will join me on), I’ll be on a panel, lead a critique group, and be available for consultations. My agent, Rachelle Gardner will also be attending, so I’m looking forward to meeting her in person for the first time. But by the looks of her schedule (she’s booked solid with appointments!), it’ll probably be little more than a hug and a high five.

Finally, immediately after the last Keynote Address on Sunday morning, I’ll be leaving NB and heading back to our local Barnes and Noble who’ll be hosting my Book Release Party from 1-3 PM (directions HERE). For every book I sell, I’ll be donating $1 to Signs of Love, a ministry to the deaf in rural Honduras that our church partners with. We’ll also have a few giveaways, including a new NOOK Simple Touch with GlowLight. Last year, we sold out of books. So this year, the Community Relations rep vowed to not let that happen again. High expectations. I hope it’s not a set-up for disappointment.

Anyway.

Busy week, wouldn’t you agree? (Oh, and did I mention that in two weekends, Alayna, the youngest of our four kids, is getting married?) It’s one of those seasons where everything seems to have converged. Lots of anticipation and nervous energy. And a looking forward to more leisurely days.

All that to say, this week will be a little bit different at deCOMPOSE. I’ll step back from my normal blogging schedule and subject matter, and devote this week to talking up The Telling. Maybe a giveaway. If you plan on purchasing the book, I’d really covet a review on Amazon.com, Goodreads, or B&N.  And if you’re in the area this weekend, I’d love to meet you and chat at the conference or book signing.

Over at Pub Rants, Agent Kristin posed this dilemma. In Why 50 Shades of Grey Makes Agent Lives Harder, she writes:

We agents go to conferences and really drive home the fact that writers need to master their craft. Wow us with masterfully written opening pages. Stop butchering the English language.

Then a work comes along and blows that advice out of the water.

Readers have called 50 Shades of Grey any number of things: campy, fun, spirited, hilarious, worth the money, a fast read.

But well written has not been one of them.

So what do we say when a novel inexplicably becomes wildly popular, sells like crazy, and part of the cultural lexicon?

I suppose this could simply be evidence that there IS no formula to publishing success. At least, I hope so.

The other option — the one which suggests that readers will sacrifice craft for a “campy, fun, spirited, hilarious, worth the money, fast read” — is the one I kinda dread.

Especially after working so damned hard to hone my craft.

Maybe that’s my problem, thinking that craft actually matters that much. You see, I’m one of those odd folks who’s a sucker for style. A well-written book will keep me reading far longer into a slow story than will a poorly-written book keep me reading into a decent story.

Apparently, I am in the reading minority.

So are readers looking for books that are well-crafted and polished, or books that get to the point and read quickly? Are readers looking for books that have depth (expansive storyworld,  dense characters and complicated plot) and style (beautiful prose, grammatical grace, literary complexity), or books that are simple (“campy, fun, spirited, hilarious, worth the money, a fast read,” modest characters, uncluttered plot, and broadly accessible)?

Maybe it’s all of the above.

Then again, maybe my problem is that for all these years I listened to the “experts” who are, just now, admitting that they might have been wrong…

In my last post, I argued that competing in the marketplace of ideas sometimes requires that Christians use “non-religious” arguments. Rather than citing Scripture, it can be advantageous to cite medical, historical, scientific, or sociological evidence, even evoke more primal, existential yearnings. If “All truth is God’s truth,” then using “general truth” is not only valid, it can be a springboard to moving a person toward “specific truth.”

This same principle applies to fiction.

In the article Why Fiction is Good for You, Jonathan Gottschall writes:

It’s an ancient question: Does fiction build the morality of individuals and societies, or does it break it down?

Until recently, we’ve only been able to guess about the actual psychological effects of fiction on individuals and society. But new research in psychology and broad-based literary analysis is finally taking questions about morality out of the realm of speculation.

This research consistently shows that fiction does mold us. The more deeply we are cast under a story’s spell, the more potent its influence. In fact, fiction seems to be more effective at changing beliefs than nonfiction, which is designed to persuade through argument and evidence. Studies show that when we read nonfiction, we read with our shields up. We are critical and skeptical. But when we are absorbed in a story, we drop our intellectual guard. We are moved emotionally, and this seems to make us rubbery and easy to shape. (emphasis mine)

Christians often talk about how a writer’s fiction is shaped by their worldview. But apparently the opposite is equally true: A person’s worldview can be shaped by fiction. Stories can affect a person’s morality and beliefs; stories persuade through image and emotion rather than “argument and evidence.”

I believe this is the same reason why using “non-religious” rhetoric and/or imagery can be and important apologetic tool: It bypasses our intellectual censors, our “shields,” and touches us at an emotive, conceptual level; it appeals to “general truth,” knowledge that is more instinctual, than codified and dogmatic. For example, the story of the Prodigal Son disarms us. Deep in our hearts, we understand the wayward son, the forces that drove him, and marvel at the father’s gracious acceptance. Why? Because it is the story of Humanity! On the other hand, telling people that they are sinners and that God loves them can easily prompt a “shields up” response. (Please note: This is not an argument for tip-toing around the Gospel message as much as it is an argument for being tactful and discerning where people are at in the process.)

Understanding this process is, I think, is hugely important for the Christian storyteller. People move from “general revelation” to “special revelation.” We move from a generic belief in a Supreme Being to more specific belief in a certain kind of one. We move from a general sense of personal brokenness and guilt, to a more specific knowledge of a Moral Law and a Moral Lawgiver. Rudimentary truths precede dogma. Thus, a goal of the Christian author could be to connect people to a Larger Truth first. Rather than articulating Scripture, we could seek to evoke something more primal, archetypal. As one Christian author noted, Our stories should declare the glory of God in the same way the heavens do (Ps. 19:1). Brilliant! But how do the stars declare the glory of God? They don’t do it by preaching.

Infusing our stories with a Christian worldview is natural for a Christian writer. Shaping our readers’ worldview is another story. And there is no quicker way to get a reader’s “shields up” than by moving away from telling a story, to articulating a religious message.