Now that the first book in The Gates of Heaven series has been released, I've been asked many questions about the themes, quotations, and allegory contained within The Wolf of Tebron. As with all my novels, I start with theme, and this book lent itself in plot and storyline to the theme of dreaming. Why dreaming? I drifted into this idea on many levels. Mostly, I needed a vehicle by which Joran would have to tackle his quest--the rescue of his wife. I'm not sure exactly how the concept of dreaming filtered into my subconscious, but I have often thought of how our lives resemble a dream. How we sleepwalk through this life unaware of our true life in Christ, the real life God has planned for us from the beginning of time. We have been dreamed up, as Ruyah the wolf tells Joran in the book, by the One who creates all things by way of his dreaming. God imagines--and things come into existence.
Joran's wife, Charris, is trapped in a dream that is manifested and upheld by Joran's anger. Joran is unaware that he is responsible for his wife's captivity, and the only way he can save her is by entering his dream to rescue her from the clutches of the Moon, who has her trapped in a sand castle overhanging the sea. Joran, though, cannot enter this place of rescue--his dream--until he has mastered his anger. He has to accomplish other things as well, but I don't want to spoil the story here. As I researched famous quotes by poets and thinkers, I came across one stark and powerful line from the psychologist Carl Jung: "Who looks outside, dreams. Who looks inside, awakens." This tied in nicely with the key phrase of Chesterton's that spurred me on: "The center of man's existence is a dream."
We are not only dreamed up by our Creator, but we are also filled with dreams. Not just the dreams we randomly experience at night but the big dreams of our soul--the dreams God puts in us--or as our pastor so aptly put--God doesn't give us a dream; he puts us inside HIS dream. He calls us in to share and fulfill the dream he already has for us. We are part of his larger dream for all mankind. In this way, Chesterton's words ring out to me. As Joran reflected--not just the center of his existence felt a dream--every bit of his life did as well. It was only, in the end, when he stopped looking outside for direction, answers, and clarity did he finally "awaken." He looked "inside" and faced the truth of who he was in relation to the truth of his existence. We, too, "wake up" when God opens our eyes to truth and shows us who we are in him.
It is like being shaken awake. And often it is more like having a bucket of cold water dumped on our heads. We learn through Joran's journey that we can be both the dreamer and the dreamed. And that is our true path in life--to recognize this fact and embrace it. Joran does, and he finds the true happiness he sought--happiness that can only come when one is awakened on the inside.
Showing posts with label fairy tales. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fairy tales. Show all posts
How I Was Led to Write Fairy Tales
After many years away from writing fiction, I knew it was time to return. I had writen three commercial novels that went everywhere and landed nowhere, and I felt quite discouraged. All my agents had promised me great success; they gushed about my unique writing style and voice. They were puzzled as to why they had failed to get a publisher to sign me up as the next best thing since chocolate. I tired of writing about flawed humans and their angst. I gave up.
Living without writing grows into an illness that seems to permeate every corner of life. My creativity and enthusiasm dwindled away and I ran on empty. In my heart, I knew I was called to write, that it is a gift that I was squandering, but I could not face the thought of laboring and giving birth to yet another weighty novel, only to be rejected once more.
I prayed. I did not pray for motivation to write another novel. I prayed to God to show me what to do with this gift and how to use it to recover my floundering life. I was drifting in a sea of hopelessness and depression, after having gone through some terrible tragedies in my life. I needed rescuing. So God sent me a life raft, in the form of a little book by G. K. Chesterton: Orthodoxy.
How could this slim book written in 1906 about Chesterton's discovery and embracing of Christianity possibly change my writing life (and the rest of my life, for that matter)? It is due to one chapter he entitles, "The Ethics of Elfland."
I had always loved fantasy books; I read them voraciously and have since I was a child. Reading Ray Bradbury inspired me to start writing my own fantasy short stories when I was about nine. I had always wanted to write a fantasy book, but felt it would be an indulgence, a waste of time. For what good were they? Nice, silly escapist books that could not contain the power and truths I so very much yearned to express in my writing. Boy, was I blind! If I had just taken the time to see how fantasy had molded my life, my dreams, my code of honor, my values, I would never accuse fantasy of being so impotent.
So, after months of intense prayer, asking God to help me write again, show me what to write, I found Chesterton's book and--lo and behold--he had written this mind-blowing chapter on the importance of fantasy.
I will just mention a few things in this post, but here are some of the words that spoke to my heart and changed my life:
"We all like astonishing tales because they touch the nerve of the ancient instinct of astonishment . . . .Here I am trying to describe the enorous emotions which cannot be described. And the strongest emotion was that life was as precious as it was puzzling. It was an ecstacy because it was an adventure; it was an adventure because it was an opportunity . . . . It was good to be in a fairy tale."
Chesterton shows how, when he was young, the world contained magic, and that somehow, that magic implied a magician--someone who conjured up all the wonder in the world and gave that wonder meaning. He speaks of how we lose that wonder, how we forget we are living in this magical, awesome world, and what fairy tales do for us is return us to that wonder we have lost. When I read that, I was like a woman dying of thirst, only just realizing that thirst was there. When I had finished reading the chapter, I knew God had spoken to my heart. He said, "write fairy tales. Tell the world about me in the wonder you see and feel and touch. For in doing so, you will rediscover your own wonder and find healing for your soul."
I cannot state enough how true those words have been, how this writing journey of the last two years has not only healed my heart and made my spirit soar, but has brought me to know God more closely than I could have ever imagined.
I will end for now with this beautiful statement by Chesterton: "Life is not only a pleasure but a kind of eccentric privilege." I try to live with that awareness in my heart each day, and response properly--with appreciation to the great conjurer of the universe.
Living without writing grows into an illness that seems to permeate every corner of life. My creativity and enthusiasm dwindled away and I ran on empty. In my heart, I knew I was called to write, that it is a gift that I was squandering, but I could not face the thought of laboring and giving birth to yet another weighty novel, only to be rejected once more.
I prayed. I did not pray for motivation to write another novel. I prayed to God to show me what to do with this gift and how to use it to recover my floundering life. I was drifting in a sea of hopelessness and depression, after having gone through some terrible tragedies in my life. I needed rescuing. So God sent me a life raft, in the form of a little book by G. K. Chesterton: Orthodoxy.
How could this slim book written in 1906 about Chesterton's discovery and embracing of Christianity possibly change my writing life (and the rest of my life, for that matter)? It is due to one chapter he entitles, "The Ethics of Elfland."
I had always loved fantasy books; I read them voraciously and have since I was a child. Reading Ray Bradbury inspired me to start writing my own fantasy short stories when I was about nine. I had always wanted to write a fantasy book, but felt it would be an indulgence, a waste of time. For what good were they? Nice, silly escapist books that could not contain the power and truths I so very much yearned to express in my writing. Boy, was I blind! If I had just taken the time to see how fantasy had molded my life, my dreams, my code of honor, my values, I would never accuse fantasy of being so impotent.
So, after months of intense prayer, asking God to help me write again, show me what to write, I found Chesterton's book and--lo and behold--he had written this mind-blowing chapter on the importance of fantasy.
I will just mention a few things in this post, but here are some of the words that spoke to my heart and changed my life:
"We all like astonishing tales because they touch the nerve of the ancient instinct of astonishment . . . .Here I am trying to describe the enorous emotions which cannot be described. And the strongest emotion was that life was as precious as it was puzzling. It was an ecstacy because it was an adventure; it was an adventure because it was an opportunity . . . . It was good to be in a fairy tale."
Chesterton shows how, when he was young, the world contained magic, and that somehow, that magic implied a magician--someone who conjured up all the wonder in the world and gave that wonder meaning. He speaks of how we lose that wonder, how we forget we are living in this magical, awesome world, and what fairy tales do for us is return us to that wonder we have lost. When I read that, I was like a woman dying of thirst, only just realizing that thirst was there. When I had finished reading the chapter, I knew God had spoken to my heart. He said, "write fairy tales. Tell the world about me in the wonder you see and feel and touch. For in doing so, you will rediscover your own wonder and find healing for your soul."
I cannot state enough how true those words have been, how this writing journey of the last two years has not only healed my heart and made my spirit soar, but has brought me to know God more closely than I could have ever imagined.
I will end for now with this beautiful statement by Chesterton: "Life is not only a pleasure but a kind of eccentric privilege." I try to live with that awareness in my heart each day, and response properly--with appreciation to the great conjurer of the universe.
The Inspiration for The Wolf of Tebron ~ Honoring Sweetie
For those who haven't heard of my Christian fairy tale called The Wolf of Tebron, (and that is many of you!), I would like to introduce you to "Sweetie," the basic inspiration for my fantasy novel who just passed away this year. I am especially fond of dogs, and I don't have to say anything more to you dog-lovers out there. Some of you don't know the deep joy that comes from having a furry, loyal companion who always cheers you up just by existing. That's an amazing gift, and I believe God intended it that way. Do you really think it is a coincidence that "dog" is "god" backwards? Well, at least in English...
What motivated me to write this novel was this: I love the idea of using fantasy as a vehicle to tell the redemption story of Christ. C.S. Lewis did it well for children in the Chronicles of Narnia, but I had a problem with Aslan, the lion. A big problem.
OK, we know he's not a tame lion, but he also rarely shows up in all the books of the series. He makes an occasional appearance, and yes, he does give his mortal life to save humanity. That's powerful. that's essential. But I felt it lacking, for the God I know isn't like that. He is, well, more like my dog, but better. I saw God as someone who stayed right by my side--through trials and joys, through fears and confusion. Watching over my while I sleep, keeping me fed and warm, and teaching me all along the way the things I need to know, even things I really don't want to know about myself. So that is Ruyah, my wolf. A timeless wizard accompanying Joran on his quest to rescue his wife from the clutches of the Moon.
At first Joran doesn't want to trust him or even be around him. But as the story progresses, Joran becomes quite attached and falls in love with this ponderous, funny, exasperating wolf who refuses to abandon Joran, even when ordered to. And in the end, the only way for Joran to survive the chaos at the shore of his dreams is for Ruyah to sacrifice his life. And not only that--Joran must kill him with his own hands.
I think, for me, that became so much more powerful a story. Because God is and does all those things for us. And there is some poignancy, if I could call it that, in imagining we wield the hammer and the nails to put Christ on the cross, that we have to strike a deliberate blow and claim responsibility for his death and embrace that pain in our own arms in order to welcome him into our hearts. The book has a happy ending, as do all fairy tales (or I should say most), but I won't do a spoiler here.
Here's one last cute image. When Lee and I were ready to pray thanks over dinner one evening by the TV, we bowed our heads and grabbed hands. And then we felt a paw rest on top of our grasp. There was Sweetie, head bowed, still and respectful while we said our prayer. I think her prayer was a little different and went something like this, "Wow, that chicken sure looks good and I really am so cute. Look at my thumping tail and soft, brown eyes. Surely there is a piece on your plates for me." The Bible does say that ALL creatures know their maker (Job 12:7-9). Is it possible that we humans are the only ones who haven't a clue?
I asked Sweetie and she said : "duh!"
Welcome to a New Fairy Tale Series ~ Part II
My introductory post discussed the power of fairy tales and the way fairy tale structure is different from other fantasy subgenres. (If you're new to this concept, read the blog entry before this.) The key point is that the traditional fairy tale structure mirrors the reality of our existence--the tale centers around an impossible happiness that is contingent upon a simple but often inexplicable requirement.
And that’s what is so fantastic—that the same rule applies to restoration. Just as our first parents’ happiness rested on an incomprehensible condition (you must not eat of the fruit…), our eternal happiness rests on one simple condition: Whoever believes in the Son of God will be saved. God doesn’t make things complicated—we do. He gave Adam and Eve a simple, clear condition. Had they obeyed, they wouldn’t have lost God.
So, we see in true fairy tales, the hero or heroine off on a journey where they have to make a choice. There is always a choice, always free will. The choice will involve some incomprehensible reward of happiness, yet will rest on some incomprehensible condition. When we read, for example, how Frodo must enter into Mordor against all odds and destroy the ring in the fires of Mount Doom, it is an incomprehensible task. It is a simple one, but nearly impossible. Yet, all the happiness of Middle Earth depends on his accomplishing this task.
Fairy tales are filled with impossible tasks, yet it is the celebration of the human spirit—of dignity, honor, resolve, love, and often sacrifice—that sends the hero out on a journey to tackle that task head on. This is our history. The story of God becoming man and setting out on a difficult journey to fix what was wrong. It cost him pain, humiliation, sorrow, suffering—facing a seemingly impossible task, but he did it and declared, “It is finished.” The huge, long, epic fairy tale that began in the garden of Eden finished at the cross. Everything once scattered and lost was now gathered and found.
This is what inspired and fired me up to write these fairy tales. I wanted to take traditional fairy tale elements that are deeply ingrained in our memories and hearts and weave them into new tales for all ages. Tales that deal with high concept, with epic themes, not just be entertaining stories. The characters in these books struggle internally as well as externally. They question their place in the world, their dreams, their hopes. Well, they are a lot like us. And they have to overcome their fear and human frailty, trusting in some inner strength and help from heaven to succeed in the end.
What I love most about writing fairy tales is being able to use metaphor and imagery. In The Wolf of Tebron, the themes of waking and dreaming are explored from all angles. Joran, in his search for his wife, held captive by the Moon, realizes he is a dream in the mind of the One who dreams all existence into being. And that he learns he can live his dream while wide awake. In The Map across Time, the kingdom is under a curse that makes men do evil. If this curse isn’t counteracted, hope is lost. This is the metaphor for our lives under sin’s curse. And blood is used heavily as a symbol in this book to tie in with redemptive and saving power. In The Land of Darkness, the symbols of light and darkness are explored. People wander lost in the Land of Darkness, but they don’t know they are lost. And they don’t know they are in the dark. A perfect metaphor for our existence. Only by crossing an invisible bridge—one that can only be seen with eyes of faith—can our heroes get out of the Land of Darkness. I won’t give any spoilers here—you will just have to read the book to learn what the bridge really is.
I just completed writing the fourth fairy tale—The Unraveling of Wentwater. I got the idea from Chesterton, in that line in Orthodoxy where he says “a word is forgotten and cities perish.” In this tale, an entire village unravels one word at a time, as every word in existence begins to disappear and, along with it, the objects they give meaning to. The theme of Wentwater has to do with mercy versus justice, and explores the futile pursuit of knowledge that leaves mercy behind. “The wisdom of the wise perishes”--literally!
The title of the series relates to the seven “gates of heaven” that are set up in different locales in this fantasy world. Heaven places these stone structures on earth to prevent evil from getting a stronghold into the world of men. Keepers were assigned to watch over the sites, but over time, the sites have been either abandoned or torn down or destroyed. Evil, then, had free rein into the world. Each book of the proposed seven-book series features a different “gate” in a different locale, where the story interweaves with this structure. Just picture Stonehenge and you’ll have an idea of what these look like.
I’m excited to continue the tradition of C. S. Lewis and Narnia. I feel there is a void left in his wake, with so many yearning to read fairy tales that give hope and inspire and work on many levels of symbolism. Hopefully, The Gates of Heaven collection of tales will fill that void and brighten the hearts of readers for a long time!
And that’s what is so fantastic—that the same rule applies to restoration. Just as our first parents’ happiness rested on an incomprehensible condition (you must not eat of the fruit…), our eternal happiness rests on one simple condition: Whoever believes in the Son of God will be saved. God doesn’t make things complicated—we do. He gave Adam and Eve a simple, clear condition. Had they obeyed, they wouldn’t have lost God.
So, we see in true fairy tales, the hero or heroine off on a journey where they have to make a choice. There is always a choice, always free will. The choice will involve some incomprehensible reward of happiness, yet will rest on some incomprehensible condition. When we read, for example, how Frodo must enter into Mordor against all odds and destroy the ring in the fires of Mount Doom, it is an incomprehensible task. It is a simple one, but nearly impossible. Yet, all the happiness of Middle Earth depends on his accomplishing this task.
Fairy tales are filled with impossible tasks, yet it is the celebration of the human spirit—of dignity, honor, resolve, love, and often sacrifice—that sends the hero out on a journey to tackle that task head on. This is our history. The story of God becoming man and setting out on a difficult journey to fix what was wrong. It cost him pain, humiliation, sorrow, suffering—facing a seemingly impossible task, but he did it and declared, “It is finished.” The huge, long, epic fairy tale that began in the garden of Eden finished at the cross. Everything once scattered and lost was now gathered and found.
This is what inspired and fired me up to write these fairy tales. I wanted to take traditional fairy tale elements that are deeply ingrained in our memories and hearts and weave them into new tales for all ages. Tales that deal with high concept, with epic themes, not just be entertaining stories. The characters in these books struggle internally as well as externally. They question their place in the world, their dreams, their hopes. Well, they are a lot like us. And they have to overcome their fear and human frailty, trusting in some inner strength and help from heaven to succeed in the end.
What I love most about writing fairy tales is being able to use metaphor and imagery. In The Wolf of Tebron, the themes of waking and dreaming are explored from all angles. Joran, in his search for his wife, held captive by the Moon, realizes he is a dream in the mind of the One who dreams all existence into being. And that he learns he can live his dream while wide awake. In The Map across Time, the kingdom is under a curse that makes men do evil. If this curse isn’t counteracted, hope is lost. This is the metaphor for our lives under sin’s curse. And blood is used heavily as a symbol in this book to tie in with redemptive and saving power. In The Land of Darkness, the symbols of light and darkness are explored. People wander lost in the Land of Darkness, but they don’t know they are lost. And they don’t know they are in the dark. A perfect metaphor for our existence. Only by crossing an invisible bridge—one that can only be seen with eyes of faith—can our heroes get out of the Land of Darkness. I won’t give any spoilers here—you will just have to read the book to learn what the bridge really is.
I just completed writing the fourth fairy tale—The Unraveling of Wentwater. I got the idea from Chesterton, in that line in Orthodoxy where he says “a word is forgotten and cities perish.” In this tale, an entire village unravels one word at a time, as every word in existence begins to disappear and, along with it, the objects they give meaning to. The theme of Wentwater has to do with mercy versus justice, and explores the futile pursuit of knowledge that leaves mercy behind. “The wisdom of the wise perishes”--literally!
The title of the series relates to the seven “gates of heaven” that are set up in different locales in this fantasy world. Heaven places these stone structures on earth to prevent evil from getting a stronghold into the world of men. Keepers were assigned to watch over the sites, but over time, the sites have been either abandoned or torn down or destroyed. Evil, then, had free rein into the world. Each book of the proposed seven-book series features a different “gate” in a different locale, where the story interweaves with this structure. Just picture Stonehenge and you’ll have an idea of what these look like.
I’m excited to continue the tradition of C. S. Lewis and Narnia. I feel there is a void left in his wake, with so many yearning to read fairy tales that give hope and inspire and work on many levels of symbolism. Hopefully, The Gates of Heaven collection of tales will fill that void and brighten the hearts of readers for a long time!
Welcome to a New Fairy Tale Series ~ Part I
Allegorical fantasy is a powerful way to convey themes using symbolism and metaphor. Many people scoff at fantasy and find no interest in it. But as a culture, as a world of people, we only have to look at most of the top-selling novels in all of history. Nearly all of them—from Pilgrim’s Progress by John Bunyan to The Lord of the Rings and Harry Potter—are fantasy. Why is fantasy such a powerful medium, and why does it have such staying power?
My answer may surprise you. Many have heard of Joseph Campbell’s study on the power of myth. Myth is deeply entrenched in our culture, in our psyche, in our past. And it’s our past that intrigues me. Because of the mythic elements that make up our past, our true history is hardwired into who we are and casts shadows on our place in the universe.
What compelled me to write fantasy was not just my love for the genre (and I have been reading fairy tales and fantasy books since grade school). It was because I came across a small book written in the late 1800s by the famous G. K. Chesterton called Orthodoxy. Chesterton devotes an entire chapter to the merits of fantasy and particularly fairy tales. He calls this chapter “The Ethics of Elfland.” There are many types of fantasy styles and genres, but only the fairy tale follows specific rules that mirror our true existence in this world. And this is why I believe fairy tales resonate to the deepest part of our souls.
One benefit to fairy tales, according to Chesterton, is their ability to wake us up and make us look at the magic and splendor that is our own existence. He says the strongest emotion fairy tales induced in him was “that life was as precious as it was puzzling. It was ecstasy because it was an adventure; it was an adventure because it was an opportunity. It was good to be in a fairy tale. The test of all happiness is gratitude. And I felt grateful, though I hardly knew to whom.”
Here’s the point that really opened my eyes. He spoke of the great principle of fairy philosophy: “I will call it ‘The Doctrine of Conditional Joy.’ The note of the fairy utterance always is, ‘You may live in a palace of gold, if you do not say the word cow.’ Or ‘You may live happily ever after with the King’s daughter, if you do not show her an onion.’ The vision always hangs upon a veto. All the dizzy and colossal things conceded depend upon one small thing withheld. All the wild and whirling things that are let loose depend upon ONE thing that is forbidden….In the fairy tale an incomprehensible happiness rests upon an incomprehensible condition. A box is opened and all evils fly out. A word is forgotten and cities perish. A lamp is lit and love flies away…and . . .” (This is the kicker!) “…An apple is eaten and the hope of God is gone.”
Of course, we know Adam and Eve didn’t eat an apple, but they did eat a piece of forbidden fruit. Do we really get his point? Our entire existence, our purpose in life, the reason we are here, now, in this world, which is in this mess, is all because of this doctrine of conditional joy—a doctrine God invented and imposed upon us. This is why fairy tales are so powerful. Our lives are all wrapped around this one truth—that a condition was given, and when it was overstepped, we lost God. And now we are spending our lives trying to gain back what has been lost. We have been created to search for God, to look for what has been lost, and to discover what the one condition is that will restore all things to perfect balance.(will be continued in next post)
My answer may surprise you. Many have heard of Joseph Campbell’s study on the power of myth. Myth is deeply entrenched in our culture, in our psyche, in our past. And it’s our past that intrigues me. Because of the mythic elements that make up our past, our true history is hardwired into who we are and casts shadows on our place in the universe.
What compelled me to write fantasy was not just my love for the genre (and I have been reading fairy tales and fantasy books since grade school). It was because I came across a small book written in the late 1800s by the famous G. K. Chesterton called Orthodoxy. Chesterton devotes an entire chapter to the merits of fantasy and particularly fairy tales. He calls this chapter “The Ethics of Elfland.” There are many types of fantasy styles and genres, but only the fairy tale follows specific rules that mirror our true existence in this world. And this is why I believe fairy tales resonate to the deepest part of our souls.
One benefit to fairy tales, according to Chesterton, is their ability to wake us up and make us look at the magic and splendor that is our own existence. He says the strongest emotion fairy tales induced in him was “that life was as precious as it was puzzling. It was ecstasy because it was an adventure; it was an adventure because it was an opportunity. It was good to be in a fairy tale. The test of all happiness is gratitude. And I felt grateful, though I hardly knew to whom.”
Here’s the point that really opened my eyes. He spoke of the great principle of fairy philosophy: “I will call it ‘The Doctrine of Conditional Joy.’ The note of the fairy utterance always is, ‘You may live in a palace of gold, if you do not say the word cow.’ Or ‘You may live happily ever after with the King’s daughter, if you do not show her an onion.’ The vision always hangs upon a veto. All the dizzy and colossal things conceded depend upon one small thing withheld. All the wild and whirling things that are let loose depend upon ONE thing that is forbidden….In the fairy tale an incomprehensible happiness rests upon an incomprehensible condition. A box is opened and all evils fly out. A word is forgotten and cities perish. A lamp is lit and love flies away…and . . .” (This is the kicker!) “…An apple is eaten and the hope of God is gone.”
Of course, we know Adam and Eve didn’t eat an apple, but they did eat a piece of forbidden fruit. Do we really get his point? Our entire existence, our purpose in life, the reason we are here, now, in this world, which is in this mess, is all because of this doctrine of conditional joy—a doctrine God invented and imposed upon us. This is why fairy tales are so powerful. Our lives are all wrapped around this one truth—that a condition was given, and when it was overstepped, we lost God. And now we are spending our lives trying to gain back what has been lost. We have been created to search for God, to look for what has been lost, and to discover what the one condition is that will restore all things to perfect balance.(will be continued in next post)
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