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Not a Book Review. Just a Warning Against #BadWritingAdvice

Not a Book Review. Just a Warning Against #BadWritingAdvice

As a rule, I don’t think it’s appropriate to review a book based on only reading the Kindle sample.

But I recently found a book that was bad enough that unwary writers need to be warned against it … and I could tell just from the sample. The introduction promises a book in four parts, three of which are #BadWritingAdvice (and I couldn’t judge the fourth).

No, I’m not going to name the book. But I will tell you why it deserves this post.

First, the author offers hundreds of dialogue tags that can be used instead of “said”.

Top tip: use “said”.

Anything other than “said” is telling. If you want to add variety, don’t use a dialogue tag. Use an action beat, body language, or internal monologue. As Browne and King say:

When you’re writing speaker attributions the right verb is nearly always said. Verbs other than said tend to draw attention away from the dialogue.

Then the author offers hundreds (perhaps thousands) of adverbs to use with dialogue.

Apparently, adverbs add spice. That may be true, but spices have to be used carefully and in the right place to be effective: don’t use chilli where the recipe calls for paprika.

Top tip: don’t use adverbs to add spice to your dialogue tags.

Stephen King may or may not be correct, but I think he best expresses the common view:

The road to hell is paved with adverbs.

Next, the author moves onto how to explain feelings, emotions, and internal dialogue.

“Explain” is a synonym for “tell”, and all modern fiction authors know they are supposed to show, not tell. And modern fiction authors also know (or should know) that we do not use tags with internal dialogue.

Actually, there is no such thing as internal dialogue unless your character is telepathic or has a mental illness that means they hear voices (think Gollum and Smeagol). The correct phrase is internal monologue, because there is only one person in an internal conversation.

Top tip: if your dialogue is ambiguous, write better dialogue.

Browne and King have a view on this as well:

If you tell your readers she is astonished when her dialogue doesn’t show astonishment, then you’ve created an uncomfortable tension between your dialogue and your explanation … your readers will be aware, if only subconsciously, that something is wrong

Finally, the author moves onto body language and movement.

She didn’t give enough information in the sample to tell whether this information would be useful (i.e. accurate), or whether it’s as ill-advised as the previous three sections. If past performance predicts future behaviour, then I suspect this section is also #BadWritingAdvice.

If you happen to stumble across this book (or a book like it), please don’t buy it or read it or recommend it to your writing friends. Instead, read (or reread) Self-Editing for Fiction Writers by Renni Browne and Dave King, or any one of a number of other writing and editing guides.

They will all tell you to use said, avoid adverbs, and show, don’t tell.

(If you want my book recommendations, click here and check out my Amazon shop.)

Can I Use a Miraculous Healing in my Novel?

Dear Editor | Can I Use a Miraculous Healing in my Novel?

Last year, I published a post on using miracles in fiction.

After reading this post, one reader asked me an interesting question: what about healing? Can we have a character receive a miraculous healing … like a resurrection?

The short answer is yes, you can have a healing in Christian fiction.

But the longer and more complicated answer is that it has to be written with great care. A resurrection is a big miracle, so you have to follow the guidelines to writing miracles I covered in my previous post—you have to set up a world in which miracles happen, and you have to set the expectation of big life-giving resurrection miracles.

You also have to make sure the resurrection miracle (or its close cousin, the healing from a fatal disease miracle) is right for the story. It could be that sometimes characters go through hard times, pray for healing or resurrection, and don’t get their miracle (just like in real life). For some stories—perhaps many stories—that is the right and best answer.

Let me show you through examples from novels I’ve read. Yes, this post will have spoilers.

Grace in Strange Disguise by Christine Dillon

Grace in Strange Disguise is the story of Rachel, a physiotherapist and pastor’s daughter who has the perfect life … until she’s diagnosed with cancer. Her father and fiance pray for her healing. Rachel prays and fasts. But Rachel learns God isn’t a wizard in the sky, prayer isn’t a magic spell, and healing isn’t a matter of saying or doing the right things.

Instead, Rachel finds the true God of the Bible. Rachel also finds He has a purpose in taking her through the hard places of cancer. No, God doesn’t work the way Rachel or her father thought He should. But the result of doing things God’s way is far better.

Having Rachel healed through prayer would have been wrong, as that would have deprived Rachel (and the reader) of the opportunity to know God better. After all, we often learn more about God in the dark places than in the light.

Dana’s Valley by Janette Oke and Laurel Oke Logan

 

Dana’s Valley is a young adult novel narrated by a teenager (Dana) whose sister is diagnosed with a life-threatening disease. Dana and her family consistently pray for the sister’s healing but she does die. Dana is distraught and her faith is shaken: she’d asked God for a miracle, and he didn’t deliver.

Her mother says :

“Only God could have carried me through in the way that I needed in order to minister to Dana. I could never have managed it on my own. Never. … Only God could have helped us manage [finances] so well. … How much more could God have done for us? I’ve seen His hands holding us up every step of the way.”

Despite their prayers, Dana is dying. Her mother has an eternal view of Dana’s future that’s rarely seen in real life or in fiction:

“We don’t waste our prayers on salavaging life here—we’re asking for God to call to the life that’s eternal. And that’s what God has given to Dana. Life that won’t end. She’s almost made it through all the pain and arrived at the beginning. God has answered every prayer.”

This is a reminder that miracles don’t always look like we think they should. That God doesn’t always answer prayer in the way we expect Him to. But that’s nothing new: Jesus was the Messiah, but he wasn’t the answer they were looking for.

As Sure as the Dawn by Francine Rivers

As Sure as the Dawn is the final novel in The Mark of the Lion trilogy. The trilogy begins with a miracle: Jesus heals the son of the widow from Naim. Hadassah, the main character in the first two novels in the trilogy, is the daughter of the boy Jesus raised from the dead.

Rivers therefore sets up a world in which miracles happen. Big miracles. Resurrection miracles. The first two books are filled with miracles, including miracles of healing where Hadassah prays for a person, and that person is healed.

The third book has other miracles, including speaking in tongues, and a character who rises from the dead. But it works, because the story has already had two resurrection miracles (the widow’s son, and Jesus himself), as well as a host of “lesser” miracles.

To answer the original question:

Yes, you can have resurrection miracles—in real life and in fiction. But fictional resurrection miracles have to follow the same “rules” as other miracles. They have to be set up properly. And they have to serve the story.

Sometimes the right answer is that the character doesn’t get their miracle.

Why?

Because that’s how life works.

God, in his infinite wisdom, doesn’t always give us the answer we want. Sometimes He takes a long time to deliver the answer—whether it’s the answer we want or the answer we don’t want.

It’s a time of waiting, of patience, of testing our faith.

So we need for our characters to have to wait, to develop patience, to have their fictional faith tested. Because that’s one of the reasons people read fiction (consciously or subconsciously): to find out how other people cope with problems. That means seeing characters work through their problems, rather than having the author-as-God fix their problems in some fabricated deus ex machina resolution.

But if you’ve set your resurrection miracle up (that means you’ve foreshadowed it, not telegraphed it), and the resurrection is the best possible alternative for your story, then use it. Because there are times we need reminding that God is a God of miracles, small and big.

Can you think of any Christian fiction which included healing (or not healing) as a plot point? Did that work in the context of the story?

Writing Believable Christian Fiction

How to Write a Novel | Writing Believable Christian Fiction

Writing believable Christian fiction, especially writing what David Bergsland calls Redemptive Christian fiction, relates back to two of the most oft-quoted pieces of writing advice: write what you know, and show, don’t tell.

Write what you know.

We can’t write with accuracy, authenticity or believablility about a topic we don’t know, whether that is art history, motor racing, SEAL team training, or anything else. And this has the potential to become an issue if we were to try and write about a level of Christian experience we don’t know about personally.

However, we serve a mighty God. I might not be able to write from experience about how a Christian suffering from depression receives healing and uses her experience to help others, I know a God who understands suffering. Who understands being in the dark places. Who understands hopelessness—and the hope Christ brings.

Prayer, therefore, must be the foundation of whatever we write as Christians.

We need to ask God to guide our writing. I’m not saying any of us should be so bold (or arrogant) as to say that our words are God’s words: unless we’re quoting the Bible, we can’t say that. But spending time in God’s presence will allow us to know Him better, and therefore to better reflect Him in our writing. Fiction or non-fiction.

Nor should we judge other writers who seem to be writing at a “lower” level. Their writing may be a reflection of their personal Christian experience, in which case it’s our privilege to pray that God will show them more, and bring them closer to Himself.

Or they may be writing at that “lower” level because that is the place God has called them to, and those are the people God has called them to write for. I see too many Christian writers publicly judging other Christian writers for their writing choices.

  • Authors writing for the Christian market judging authors who write for the general market.
  • Non-fiction authors judging fiction authors for writing “lies”.
  • Literary fiction authors judging genre fiction authors for writing populist crap (of course, they usually mange to find a politer way of expressing themselves).
  • Genre writers judging romance writers for feeding inappropriate desires.
  • Clean romance writers judging . . . the list goes on.

Unless we know with 100% certainty that a particular author is going against God’s call by writing whatever genre they are writing, then we should not judge. Even if we do believe they are in the wrong, our best approach is through prayer, that God will work in their lives to lead them towards Himself. Telling them they are wrong isn’t going to motivate them to change.

Which brings me to the second major problem with writing Christian fiction:

Show, don’t tell.

Yes, this is another of those oft-quoted pieces of writing advice. And the problem with a lot of Christian fiction is that it tells where it should be showing. To tell is simply poor writing craft.

But a lot of writers don’t know better. They tell, because they don’t know how to show.

This, I believe, is also a reflection of the way we live our Christian lives. The Bible says:

The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.
– 1 Samuel 16:7

It is an unfortunate reality that many modern churches unintentionally encourage and reward members for looking at the outward appearance. “Proper” Christians wear the right clothing styles—not too short, not too tight, and not too much visible skin. They don’t wear too much makeup (or they don’t wear makeup at all). The women don’t have short hair. The men don’t have long hair. The don’t have tattoos, especially not visible tattoos. Clothes are clean and pressed. Jewelry is tasteful.

We bring our Bibles to church. We drive nice cars. We live in nice houses. We have nice families. We say nice things. We never admit to having difficulties in our relationships with our spouse, our family, with God. We never admit to the financial pressure we are under because of the need to have nice things, the right car, a house in the right part of town. We never admit that we’re showing a sanitised version of our lives, that we curate social media to only show the nice parts. That we’re acting.

Yes, As Christians, we are the ultimate in method acting: we play the part of the good Christian because we’ve twisted Jesus’s words in Luke 6:45:

The good man brings good things out of the good stored up in his heart, and the evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored in his heart. For out of the overflow of his heart his mouth speaks.

Yet instead of focusing on attitudes, we focus on the behaviour and pretend to ourselves that our behaviour (and that of our children) reflects our attitudes. And too much Christian fiction makes this mistake: that because the characters are *acting* like Christians, they must *be* Christians.

So we, as authors are *showing* Christian behaviour, but true Christianity goes deeper than that.

It’s also about Christ-like thoughts and attitudes:

Taking captive every thought to be obedient to Christ
– 2 Corinthians 10

I suspect we ignore these underlying attitudes and motivations in fiction because we can’t or don’t see them play out in real life. No matter how well we know our friends (or even our spouse), we don’t know their every thought. We don’t know their deepest darkest secret (although we might suspect it).

But this is the enormous advantage fiction has over real life: as authors, we can use deep perspective point of view to show a character’s underlying attitudes and motivations. We can show their outward actions, and their inward attitudes.

This is where writing craft becomes vital for writing believable Christian fiction.

It’s easy to show outward actions. It’s not easy to show inward attitudes, and many writers slip into the trap of telling through character thought. That leads to writers “info dumping” Christianity into your fiction. That will inevitably come across as preachy. Instead, weave the character’s Christian faith throughout the story, through their actions as much as through their words and thoughts. As St Francis of Assisi said,

Preach the gospel at all times. When necessary, use words.

Remember as well that there is a market for “Christ-lite” fiction. Non-Christians, Seekers, and Backsliders are unlikely to want to read Redemptive fiction . . . at least, not until they’ve experienced Christ for themselves.

If God can use The Da Vinci Code to bring people to Christ (yes, I’ve heard He can), he can certainly use your book.

Plot and Structure

How to Write A Novel | Plot, Structure, and Characterisation

The foundations of a good novel are genre (which I discuss here), plot, structure, and characterisation.

If you’re writing (or have just written) your first novel, I suggest reading Tips for writing your first novel.

If you’re writing Christian fiction, you may want to consider these questions:

(And while we’re discussing Christian fiction, Please Don’t Criticise Christian Fiction Writers.)

Plot and Structure

Randy Ingermanson states the essentials of fiction are plot, character, theme and building a credible story world. However, plot and structure are inevitably intertwined, so we will discuss them together.

Another common question is around length:

Structuring Your Novel

There are a range of excellent tools to help authors plot a good story with a structure that doesn’t drag. These include:

Great tools for plotting your novel from @JamesScottBell, @KMWeiland, @MichaelHauge, @SnowflakeGuy (aka Randy Ingermanson) #WriteTips #AmWriting Share on X

Here are some of my favourite books on plot and structure:

(Note: these are Amazon affiliate links, but you should also be able to find these books at your favourite online or real-life bookstore.)

Scene Structure

There is also the micro-structure: the scene. Yes, scenes have structure.

Tropes

If you write romance, you may wish to consider which tropes you use, as tropes are a form of plot shorthand:

Characterisation

Finally, there is the all-important question of characterisation.

What plot, structure, or characterisation questions do you have? Leave a comment, and I’ll do my best to help.

 

 

Cover Image - Write Better by Andrew T Le Peau

Book Review | Write Better by Andrew T Le Peau

I’ve recently returned form the 2019 Omega Writers Conference in Sydney, Australia. Our keynote speaker was US literary agent Steve Laube, who inspired and challenged us all to pursue excellence in our writing.

He also talked about reading. Specifically, he pointed out that we shouldn’t restrict ourselves to reading (or watching) things we agree with. We should also read articles and books we don’t agree with, because they can expand our thinking by showing us alternative points of view.

Write Better had some ideas I disliked or disagreed with.

Le Peau even appeared to contradict himself on a couple of points. But it’s definitely a book worth reading, because the good far outweighs the less good.

Write Better: A Lifelong Editor on Craft, Art, and Spirituality by Andrew T Le Peau is filled with useful advice for Christian writers. #ChristianWriter #BookReview Share on X

I found three main faults with the book. First, Le Peau points out the importance of a great introduction as a way of engaging the reader, but I found his introduction somewhat boring. Second, he discloses that parts of this book have been taken from his blog, then goes on to caution the reader against sharing too much of their book online. Hmm.

Finally, I think the structure of the book doesn’t entirely work—he talks about the craft of writing, the art of writing, the spirituality of writing, then has five not-quite-related appendicies. Parts of the book read more like a collection of related blog posts rather than a planned book. The content is great. It’s just that it doesn’t always hang together as an overall whole.

But don’t let that analysis leave you thinking this book is an automatic pass. There is a lot of good information in Write Better, and it certainly got me thinking. And that’s the point.

We need to think, and being faced with ideas we disagree with forces us to think in a way reading the agreeable books doesn’t.

Let’s start with my least favourite thought-provoking idea:

If we want to keep our thinking sharp, we need to exercise. Yes, I know. Exercise is anathema to many writers. But Karen Posta, president of the American Academy of Clinical Neuropsychology says vigorous physical exercise is the only activity known to trigger the birth of new neurons. To be in top shape mentally, we have to be in shape physically.

Yes, it makes sense. It doesn’t mean I have to like it.

Many of Le Peau’s ideas are relevant to speakers (e.g. pastors), not just writers.

For example, he says:

While opening with a strong, compelling story is always a good option, be sure the story is consistent with your main point as well as your target audience.

How many times have you heard a pastor start a sermon with a fun or funny story that ends up having nothing to do with the subject of his sermon? Or how many times have they started with a Bible reading that’s not related to their main theme? You might get there in the end, but it’s muddy because your reader (or listener) is expecting one thing, and you deliver another.

This leads to another vital question: who is your audience?

Write for (or preach to) a specific audience. Who do you want to reach, and why? In preaching, preach to the audience (congregation) you have, not the audience you’d like to have.

He makes another point that I definitely subscribe to: KISS. Keep it simple, stupid. He says:

We often think that sophisticated vocabulary makes us seem more impressive and intelligent [but] fancy vocabulary was not more persuasive than simple words even in scholarly writing.

I suspect this is because some people don’t understand the sophisticated vocabulary and can better be persuaded by simple words that are easier to understand because there is no room to debate alternate meanings.

Stephen King says any word you have to look up in a thesaurus is the wrong word. I’d go one step further and say any word you have to look up in a dictionary is the wrong word. Le Peau says:

If you only want to connect with other experts and specialists, fine. Go ahead and sound pretentious. Otherwise, KISS.

Le Peau is also in favour of KISS when it comes to our subject matter:

If you can’t explain the main concept of your piece in thirty seconds, you are probably in trouble.

Not least because if you can’t explain it in thirty seconds, your reader (or listener) will get confused over what is your main point.

Le Peau also covers how to make our message memorable using techniques like alliteration, analogy, metaphor, and even cliche. He reminds us to use subtle repetition to make our point stick (a technique often used to encourage us to believe lies), and to use stories:

Facts touch our minds. Stories touch our whole person—our emotions,our desires, what we remember from the past and what we hope for the future. Stories tell us who we were, who we are, and who we can be.

Yes, those points all came from the writing section, which I found the strongest. But Le Peau also makes some pertinent observations about author platform:

We don’t seek to build a platform for ourselves but for our message—so it can be heard.

On that basis, if we’re sharing the message God has given us, then building a platform is God-serving, not self-serving.

Do we believe we have something to say? Then building a platform is as proper as seeking to write.

Book Review | Write Better by Andrew T Le Peau Share on X

Le Peau believes it best if authors have spent two to five years building a platform before sending in their first proposal. Sure, he’s talking as a career employee in a traditional Christian publishing house, but the same guidance surely holds true for self-published authors.

As an aside, Le Peau also makes an interesting point about preaching:

Preaching is not about [the preacher] or about well he does. It is about whether or not the Spirit shows up, and that’s the Spirit’s decision, not his. His job is to preach faithfully.

The same can be said for leading worship, taking communion, or any other church service.

Finally, Le Peau makes some interesting points in light of the fact that most of the world’s Christian publishing industry is centred in the USA:

Approximately 80 percent of the world’s population lies outside the West. Over half of all Christians now live outside the West.

So if we’re only writing for Western Christians (or, worse, Christians in the USA), then we’re missing most of the market. We’re certainly not fulfilling the Great Commission.

As you can see, there is a lot more good in Write Better than bad.

As such, it’s an excellent book for Christian nonfiction writers … which is most of us, as even fiction writers write nonfiction blog posts.

Thanks to IVP Press and NetGalley for providing a free ebook for review.

About Write Better

Writing is not easy. But it can get better.

In this primer on nonfiction writing, Andrew Le Peau offers insights he has learned as a published author and an editor for over forty years, training, guiding, and cheering on hundreds of writers. Here are skills that writers can master―from finding strong openings and closings, to focusing on an audience, to creating a clear structure, to crafting a persuasive message.

With wide-ranging examples from fiction and nonfiction, Le Peau also demystifies aspects of art in writing such as creativity, tone, and metaphor. He considers strategies that can move writers toward fresher, more vital, and perhaps more beautiful expressions of the human condition.

One aspect of writing that rarely receives attention is who we are as writers and how writing itself changes us. Self-doubt, fear of criticism, downsides of success, questions of authority, and finding our voice are all a part of the exploration of our spirituality as writers found in these pages. Discover how the act of writing can affect our life in God.

Whether you’re a veteran writer, an occasional practitioner, a publishing professional, or a student just starting to explore such skills, Le Peau’s wit and wisdom can speed you on your way.

You can read the introduction to Write Better Below:

Mechanics of Writing

How to Write a Novel | Mechanics of Writing, Revising, and Editing

This post is a compilation of posts on writing, revising, and editing fiction.

Mechanics of Writing

Plot and Structure

Most novels follow the classic three-act structure. Different writing instructors teach this in different ways. Here are a few:

Scenes also have structure:

Point of View

Point of view is one of the most common issues I see with first-time fiction writers: Understanding Point of View

If you don’t understand point of view, then I recommend reading Characters and Viewpoint by Orson Scott Card.

Show, Don’t Tell

Show, don’t tell is an oft-quoted rule that isn’t always clearly defined:

If telling is a problem for you, then I recommend reading Understanding Show Don’t Tell (And Really Getting It) by Janice Hardy.

Common Writing Questions

These articles were all inspired by questions I’ve been asked online or in person, or issues I’ve seen in manuscripts I’ve worked on or novels I’ve read.

Common Revision Questions

Common Editing Questions

Editing questions fall into two main areas: the big-picture “why” questions, and the more detailed “how do I …” questions:

How Do I …

These tend to be style questions. As such, there is no right or wrong answer. It will depend on the style guide you are using:

My favourite books on self-editing are:

Check out my Amazon shop for all my writing book recommendations.

How do I use italics in fiction?

Dear Editor | When Can I Use Italics in Fiction?

I learned to type back in the Dark Ages, when we were taught touch typing on mechanical typewriters with a single font and a single font colour (unless you were lucky enough to have a typewriter that could use a two-tone black and red ribbon). Using italics or other typography was a distant dream.

The only typographic effects were USING CAPITAL LETTERS FOR HEADINGS or Using Capitalisation and Underlining for Subheadings. Sometimes we might use underlining in a sentence for emphasis. But that was discouraged as Mrs Yates said it made our typing look untidy.

Then Apple invented the Macintosh and Microsoft invented Word.

Yes, there were other programmes—I’ve used both WordPerfect and WordStar 2000 (which dated from the 1980’s, when anything with “2000” in the name was considered futuristic and therefore cool). With the Mac and Word came bold and italic, different font sizes, and even different fonts.

With the Microsoft Office suite of products, the misuse of fonts and styles (and PowerPoint ClipArt) was born. We’ve largely recovered from the overuse of tacky ClipArt, and fiction authors largely understand that pretty headings and subheadings don’t belong in novels.

But some authors still overuse italics.

How do I use italics in fiction?

Why is this a problem?

Overusing anything is a problem, in writing and in life (examples: chocolate, coffee, or any other addictive substance). In writing, overusing any particular word, phrase, or technique runs the risk of drawing the reader’s attention away from the story.

Italics are a particular problem. They have many uses in fiction, and are easy to overuse. More importantly, they can be difficult to read for any length of time. This can affect the reading experience.

There are two main reasons for using italics in fiction:

  1. Our chosen style guide recommends italics are used in this situation, and there is no reasonable alternative. This is effectively a requirement—style guides may “guide” and “recommend”, but those guidelines are usually rules, especially if you’re working with a traditional publisher.
  2. Our chosen style guide suggests italics, but there are reasonable alternatives. In these cases, the choice is typically up to the author or publisher.

Style Guide Requirements

There are many instances where we have to use italics, depending on our choice of style guide. The Chicago Manual of Style (the accepted authority for US fiction) requires italics for:

Names and Titles

The Chicago Manual of Style suggests italics for a range of names and titles:

  • Boat or ship names (8.116)
  • Book, newspaper, or magazine titles (8.168)
  • Play titles (8.182)
  • Movies, TV shows, radio, and podcast titles are italicised (8.189)
  • Videogame names (8.190)
  • Blog names (8.192)
  • Paintings, photographs, statues etc. (8.198)
  • Album titles (but not song titles) (8.194 and 8.197)

Poem titles are not set in italics unless it’s the name of a compilation or a very long poem (e.g. Dante’s Inferno) (8.181). Song titles and blog post titles are typeset in quotation marks (8.194 and 8.197, 8.192).

Key Terms and Letters

Key terms are italicised on their first occurrence (7.56), although this applies more to nonfiction than to fiction.

Letters may also be italicised (CMOS 7.64) e.g. he signed the document with an X. But common terms like mind your p’s and q’s don’t need to be italicised, and nor do school grades (CMOS 7.65).

Italics for Emphasis

Many authors use italics to emphasise certain words, especially in dialogue. The issue with using italics for emphasis is that authors who like to use italics to emphasise certain words or phrases almost always overuse the technique.

Using italics for emphasis is like using exclamation marks. They draw attention to the writing rather than what the characters are saying or doing. Sandra Newman and Howard Mittlemark say:

Other typographical conventions used for emphasis … should be used infrequently, VERY RARELY and never.

(I’m not so tough on the never-use-bold: if a character hears from God, this can be shown with bold font. But that almost never happens.)

The Chicago Manual of Style permits using italics for emphasis, but also points out that italics lose their force if overused (7.50). The manual also notes there is no point italicising the words at the end of a sentence—the words at the end of a sentence are naturally emphasised. Robert Hudson is more blunt:

A dependence on italics for emphasis is a sign of poor writing.

In other words, revise the dialogue or interior monologue to emphasise what needs emphasising, and remove the italics.

Italics for Foreign Words

The official rule on this is that we italicise a non-English word the first time it appears (7.53), but not if it’s familiar enough to appear in the dictionary (7.54). If the word appears in the dictionary, it’s considered common enough that we expect readers to know the meaning.

This can lead to several problems:

  • The foreign words in a dictionary are going to vary depending on which dictionary you are using. For example, in New Zealand, the dictionary includes many common Maori words, but does not include Maori place names. However, non-New Zealand readers might need Maori words explained. Equally, a US dictionary is likely to contain a number of Spanish words. A Canadian or English dictionary might include common French words. As an author, you can’t expect all the readers to know all the words.
  • Italicising non-English words gives the subtle impression that non-English words are “other” and somehow secondary to English words. As well as being unnecessarily Anglo-centric, this ignores the large number of words English has borrowed from other languages. We all know we’ve borrowed a number of French words (e.g. gourmet and ballet), but we’ve also borrowed from others (e.g. pajamas and verandah both come from Hindi).
  • Some genres use a lot of non-English words. Amish fiction is an example. Should we italicise every Deutsch word? I suspect not. Most people who read Amish fiction read a lot of it, and probably don’t need italics to show them Rumspringa or Englisch are not English words. Instead, add a glossary at the beginning of the book for those readers who are leas familiar with the genre.

Some authors will sprinkle in the occasional non-English word to show the character isn’t a native English speaker. They usually use common words that the reader will understand—hello, goodbye, please, thank you. But this also causes problems. I only speak English, but I can say hello, goodbye, please, and thank you in several different languages.

Why? Because they’re common words. They’re the words people usually use first when they learn another language. As such, it doesn’t make sense that the “foreign” character would revert to their first language when using these common words. They’re more likely to revert to their first language when they can’t think of the English equivalent.

In my experience, they’ll then try and work out the correct English word in one of two ways:

  1. If they’re with someone else who speaks their first language, they’ll say the word in the other language and ask for the translation:
    “Honey, what’s the English word for XXXX?”
  2. Or they’ll try and explain the word and hope the person they’re talking to will still understand:
    “What’s the English word for that small thing in the Bible, the one that’s not a chapter?”

(A verse, in case you’re wondering. My Welsh-speaking father asked me that once. He’d attended a Welsh church as a child, and never learned the English word.)

If you want to show your character’s first language, then try:

  • Terms which have no clear English equivalent, or where the English translation loses the flavour of the original (e.g. the Amish Rumspringa is literally “running around”).
  • Pet names or endearments (e.g. the equivalent of darling or honey).
  • Techncial or religious terms (e.g. the Amish Ordnung).
  • Terms which are unique (e.g. the Icelandic jolabokaflod).

But I’d still be inclined not to italicise the non-English word. It should be obvious that it’s not English, so italicising is another subtle form of telling where you should be showing.

Author’s Stylistic Choice

There are also a few instances where italics are the author’s stylistic choice.

Italics for Diary Entries or Letters

Some authors include diary entries or letters as part of the plot. Italics are an easy way of differentiate diary entries or letters from the main text. Many book designers also block indent the entries to further differentiate them from the main text.

Unfortunately, letters and diary entries are often long, and long passages in italics can be difficult to read. The alternative is using another font, but this can bring up problems with finding an appropriate second font that combines well with the primary font, is easy to read (many handwriting fonts are less than legible), and one that will render properly on ereader devices.

One of my early reviewing experiences was a novel that used a lot of nonstandard characters, and none of these rendered properly on my ereader. The result was a novel with random rectangles signifying a missing letter—which definitely didn’t enhance the reading experience.

If your novel has letters or diary entries, then my preference would be to typeset them in a complementary font. Failing that, italics are an acceptable substitute. Not idea, but acceptable.

Italics for Direct Thought

Back when we used manual typewriters, we also learned to use double quotation marks to indicate spoken dialogue, and single quote marks for thought. This approach is now considered outdated, because thoughts are thought, not spoken.

A more modern convention is to use italics to indicate direct thought. However, there are disadvantages to this approach as well:

  • Italics are only effective for a few words or a short sentence. Any longer, and it becomes difficult to read. It can slow the pacing of the scene, and overuse of italics will annoy the reader.
  • Direct thought in italics changes the point of view of the scene from third person past tense (the most common choice in modern fiction) to first person present tense and back again . This change can be jarring for the reader. Yes, it’s less jarring if you’re writing in first person or present tense, but I’d still argue that italics are unnecessary.
  • Direct thought is telling where the author should be showing.

My preference and recommendation (as an editor and as a reader) is to use deep perspective point of view, whether you’re writing in first person or third person. This helps eliminate the narrative distance between your characters and your reader, and produces a more engaging and emotional reading experience.

And third person deep perspective eliminates the need to use italics for thought.

My one exception to this rule suggestion is prayer

If a character is praying inside their head (i.e. rather than praying aloud), then it’s better to use italics. In this case, italics clarifies that the character is praying. If the prayer were set in normal type, it might look as though they were taking the Lord’s name in vain:

God, I need to get out of here. Help!

vs.

God, I need to get out of here. Help!

In this case, I think italics are the correct approach.

Conclusion

My overall advice is to use italics where necessary i.e. where recommended by the appropriate style guide. Otherwise, avoid italics … because it’s all too easy to overuse the technique.

Do you overuse italics? What are your thoughts on my guidelines?

14 Questions to Ask When You're Revising a Scene

14 Questions to Ask When You’re Revising a Scene

One common mistake new fiction writers make is not structuring their scenes for maximum impact. Many don’t even realise there is a correct or best way to structure a scene. This often leads to “empty” scenes—scenes where things happen, but where it’s not clear how they are related to the overall plot.

(Sometimes, poor scene structure is a signal there is no overall plot, but that’s a different issue.)

Writing a Great Scene

Les Standiford says:

A good scene will enrich character, provide necessary information to the audience, and move the plot forward.

A good scene will do all three. An average scene might achieve two out of the three objectives.

What are the essentials of a good scene, and how do your scenes rate? 14 Questions to Ask when You're Revising a Scene #WriteTip #AmEditing Share on X

But a lot of scenes seem to serve no other function than share a small snippet of important information to the reader. If so, do we need that scene? Or would it be a stronger novel if we moved that snippet of necessary information into another scene—one that does enrich character and move the plot forward?

1. Does Your Scene Follow the GCD Formula?

In order to move the story forward, a scene must have:

A goal.

The point of view character must want something. Ideally, this goal will related to the character’s overall internal or external goal. This character goal gives the scene purpose.

Conflict.

Something the point of view character must overcome in order to achieve their goal. This conflict will typically come from the other character in the scene.

Disaster.

Something which prevents the point of view character from achieving their goal.

This can be summarised in a single sentence:

[Character]  wants [Goal] but [Conflict] leads to [Disaster]

The Goal-Disaster-Conflict scene structure originated with Dwight L Swain in Techniques of the Selling Writer, and has been discussed in various books and blog posts. Randy Ingermanson has an excellent blog post on the subject, Writing the Perfect Scene, and a book, How to Write a Dynamite Scene using the Snowflake Method (which is on my never-ending to-read pile).

Do your scenes follow the Goal-Conflict-Disaster formula? And what does that even mean? 14 Questions to Ask When You're Revising A Scene #WritersLife #EditTips Share on X

2. Is Your Scene Followed by a Sequel?

But that’s not all. A scene is usually followed by a sequel. Where scenes are about the point of view character’s external actions in pursuit of a visible goal, the sequel is about the character’s internal reaction to the conflict and disaster.

The sequel also has three parts:

Reaction.

The character’s initial (and often involuntary) reaction to the Disaster.

Dilemma.

The character is now faced with a problem, a dilemma, two options they have to choose between.

Decision.

The character’s solution (right or wrong) to the Dilemma. This will form the basis for the character’s goal in the next scene.

The decision plunges the characters into the next scene, and the next.

This pattern of goal-conflict-disaster-reaction keeps the plot moving forward towards the overall character goal, and to the answer to their story question.

Not all scenes are followed by sequels. Sometimes, the story moves straight into the next scene. If so, there should be a change in the time, place, or point of view character. The change in time or place might be signalled through a simple transition at the beginning of the next scene or chapter, e.g.

  • The next morning …
  • Back at the ranch …

Or the next scene could take place in the same time and place, but with a change in the point of view character. This change is signalled by a scene break (usually *** or similar) or chapter break, and by identifying the new point of view character in the first sentence of the new scene.

Do I Have to Follow this Structure?

For most scenes, yes. Your reader (consciously or subconsciously) expects the scenes to follow this structure, especially in genre fiction. But you don’t have to follow this structure for every scene in your novel.

This is (yet another) example of knowing the rules so you know how to break them. If you know how to structure a scene and most of your scenes follow the expected structure, then your reader will react when one of your scenes follows a different structure—and you can manage that reaction to best suit your story.

If you don’t know the rules, then your scenes are likely to leave your readers feeling dissatisfied, as though something is missing.

Scene structure isn’t the only thing readers expect.

They also expect to know what is happening in the scene, which means anchoring them in the scene as quickly as possible—in the first line, the first sentence, or the first paragraph. If the reader isn’t anchored in the scene, they’re likely to start skimming (I know I do). And we don’t want the reader to skim, because skimming is an invitation to close the novel.

So the first sentence of a scene or chapter is important. It’s the one time you can tell rather than show. Sure, showing is better than telling, but telling is better than obscuring the necessary information.

What Do Readers Need to Know?

You need to answer four questions as quickly as possibly, ideally in the opening sentence of each scene:

3. Is the identity of the point of view character clear from the first sentence?

The reader expects the first-named character to be the point of view character. I suspect this is why some writing instructors recommend not starting with dialogue—because it can make it difficult to identify the point of view character.

“Catherine, would you like a coffee?” Iola indicated the coffee jar. It was almost empty, but there was enough for two more.

Who is the point of view character—is it the speaker, or the character being spoken to? The “rules” would say Catherine was the point of view character, as that’s the first name in the scene. But the action beat and internal monologue imply Iola is the point of view character.

4. Is the location clear?

Readers want to know where the scene is set, especially if the scene location has moved since the last scene. If the location isn’t clear, the reader will assume the location is the same as in the last scene … which can get confusing if it isn’t.

5. Is the time clear?

Readers expect the scene to take place immediately after the conclusion of the previous scene. If this isn’t the case, the author needs to indicate when—perhaps through the transition (e.g. the next morning) or perhaps through a time indicator at the beginning of the chapter (e.g. Christmas Day, 1945).

And remember: always move forward in time. Flashbacks (whether in scenes or in interior monologue) can be confusing for the reader, and can affect the pace by messing with the forward motion of the story. The exception to this would be a dual or multiple timeline story—but then it’s even more important to ensure your reader knows when the scene is taking place.

Are you anchoring your reader in the scene? If you're not, you encourage readers to skim. What do they need to know? #WritingCommunity #Writers Share on X

Most multiple timeline stories move each timeline forward in time. Occasionally, a dual timeline story might move the present story forward in time, but the past story is a series of non-linear flashbacks, each inspired by some present clue. These may jump around in time.

6. Does the scene start with a change in time, place, or viewpoint character?

Readers subconsciously expect a scene or chapter break to mean there is a change in time, place, or point of view character. If there isn’t, it feels like the scene or chapter break has been inserted as a cliffhanger ending, perhaps to inject some tension into the plot … which is a subconscious tell that there is no conflict in the scene, because it’s not following the Goal-Conflict-Disaster formula.

14 Questions to Ask When You're Revising a Scene

More on Scene Structure

There are two more questions to ask when it comes to how best to start and end a scene:

7. Does your Scene Start with a Hook?

You need to hook your readers into the scene—show the goal and the conflict as quiclky as possible, so your reader is never tempted to put the book down.

I suspect this is also why paper books traditionally start each chapter on the right-hand page. It’s so the reader promises themself “just one more chapter”, but gets to the end of the chapter at the top of the left-hand page, then can’t help reading the first line of the next chapter … then can’t stop reading. Hello, 3am. That’s a hook.

8. Does your Scene Start In Media Res?

In media res is Latin for “in the middle of the thing”. Don’t start a scene with backstory. Start with action—with what is happening now, not why it is happening. Start each scene and each chapter (and each novel) as late as possible.

14 Questions to Ask When You're Revising a Scene

9. Are Your Sequels Short?

Some authors like to have their characters endlessly pondering their reaction and dilemma. The problem with this is that while Scene is showing, Sequel is telling. Yes, we need the sequel. Why? Because we need to understand the point of view character’s emotional reaction to the Scene. But that means a few sentences or a paragraph, not paragraphs or pages of interior monologue.

10. Do Your Sequels go on Too Long?

This is related to keeping the sequels short. Just as you start each scene as late as possible, you need to finish early. End on a powerful word or phrase, one that the reader will remember … a hook that will keep them reading.

Too often, I find the most powerful sentence is two or three sentences before the end, which dilutes the power.

Instead, finish early.

The Overall Scene

So your scene has a goal, conflict, and a disaster. It starts in media res, with a compelling hook. It’s followed by a short sequel. Here are four more questions to ask yourself about the overall scene:

11. Can you summarise the scene in a character-goal-conflict-disaster sentence?

If so, great. That probably means you’ve got a scene that does the job: enriches character, provides necessary information, and moves the plot forward.

If not, why not? What’s missing? How can you revise your sentence—and your scene—to include all the necessary components?

12. Is the viewpoint character the character most affected by the events in the scene?

The point of view character should always be the character with the most to lose in any given scene. As a bonus, the goal-conflict-disaster structure pretty much guarantees the character will lose (otherwise, where’s the disaster?).

So if your scene isn’t working, try writing it from a different point of view. It could be that the other character has more to lose.

14 Questions to Ask When You're Revising a Scene

13. Is the scene shown in terms of action?

This comes back to showing, not telling. If you’re showing, then you’re probably showing character actions and their reactions (e.g. through action beats and body language). If you’re telling … well, you’re telling. And you need to revise the scene to show what’s happening. Ask yourself: what’s the visual?

14. Does the scene move the plot forward, deepen characterisation, or provide necessary information?

It’s possibly—unlikely, but possible—that a scene has a goal, conflict, and a disaster, but doesn’t actually move the plot forward. If so, you need to ask yourself why the scene deserves a place in your novel:

  • The scene is emotional respite or comic relief after a series of high-action or high-emotion scenes. If so, fine. You can’t have high-action or high-emotion scenes all the time—they exhaust the reader, which encourages them to put the novel down. The occasional lightweight scene can break the tension and keep the reader engaged.
  • The scene is setting up the main character/s or main conflict in the sequel. If so, fine. One of the benefits of writing a series is sell-through, and you’re going to improve sell-through if you can pre-sell the next novel by engaging readers in this novel.
  • The scene is about characters in a previous novel. Again, this can work. Most series—especially longer series—have an anchor character or anchor couple, and readers want to “see” that couple again. So a wedding or reunion scene might not move the plot of this novel forward, but it provides readers with the opportunity to catch up with their favourite characters from previous novels in the series. This helps keep them engaged in this novel, and in the series.
Does your scene have to move the plot forward to deserve a place in your novel? Usually—but here are three valid exceptions. #EditTips #AmWriting Share on X

(You do have an email newsletter, don’t you? If not, you need to check out Why You Need an Email List or sign up for my Kick-Start Your Author Platform Marketing Challenge.)

So that’s the long version of scene, sequel, and possible problems. What’s your biggest problem with scene structure?

If you’d like a free downloadable Scene Structure Worksheet, sign up below for my free email course, Learn to Revise Your Novel in Two Weeks, and learn to identify and fix the problems I see most often in manuscripts from first-time fiction writers.

Learn to Revise Your Novel in Two Weeks by Iola Goulton, Christian Editing Services

Understanding Genre

How to Write a Novel: Understanding Genre

As a reviewer and editor, I read a lot of fiction, mostly Christian fiction. I see a lot of the same mistakes over and over, especially from first-time authors. One of those issues is genre.

Click here to sign up for my newsletter to learn what mistakes I see most often—and how to fix them.

What's the most important aspect of writing a novel? Understanding genre. Here's what you need to know. #ChristianFiction #WritersLife Share on X

I’ve written an entire series of posts on genre, plus additional posts attempting to define Christian fiction (attempting, because there is no industry-agreed definition). This post brings all my information on genre into one place.

First, why is genre important?

Genre underpins the publishing world:

  • Publishers publish by genre.
  • Agents acquire by genre.
  • Bookstores organise by genre.
  • Readers purchase by genre.

And readers review by genre. If a book doesn’t meet the expectations of the genre, you can expect low-star reviews with comments about not meeting expectations. Angela Hunt, author of over 100 books, says:

Before you begin writing your novel, you should know what genre you are writing in. The number one mistake of beginning writers in this area is to not consider genre at all.

Understanding your genre will:

  • Inform some of your writing decisions, including the most appropriate point of view, the number of viewpoint characters, tense, voice, style and word count.
  • Help ensure you don’t stray off-topic as you write.
  • Inform the length of your story.
  • Influence your cover design.
  • Guide your marketing efforts.

So what do you need to know?

Here are my six steps to meeting the expectations of genre readers:

  1. Know the age group your book is targeting.
  2. Know whether you’re targeting the Christian or general market.
  3. Understand the genre and subgenre you’re writing.
  4. Understand historical vs. contemporary.
  5. Get your word count right.
  6. Write in a series.
What genre do you write? Six questions to help you understand your genre and target market #Genre #ChristianFiction Share on X

Step One: Know the age group your book is targeting.

The standard industry age categorisations are:

  • Picture Books: Under 5 years old.
  • Early Reader: 5–7 years old.
  • Middle Grade: 8-12 years old.
  • Young Adult: 13-18 years old.
  • New Adult: 18–25 years old.
  • Adult: Over 18 years.

Are you clear which age group your book is targeting?

Click here to find out more.

Step Two: Know whether you’re targeting the Christian or general market

General market booksellers in the US are typically members of the American Booksellers Association (ABA). Christian booksellers were typically members of what was the Christian Booksellers Association (CBA), which has now been supplanted by the Christian Retailers Association (CRA). Click here to find out more.

CBA and CRA booksellers sell Christian books, but how do we define a Christian book? That’s relatively easy when it comes to nonfiction:

  • Bible studies and devotional books are clearly Christian in nature.
  • Memoirs or biographies of Christians are clearly Christian.
  • There are also a huge number of Christians writing in the self-help genre, ranging from obviously Christian topics such as improving your prayer life, to less obvious subjects such as diet.

The common thread is that Christian nonfiction uses the Bible as a reference or influence.

It’s less easy when it comes to Christian fiction. People often attempt to define Christian fiction by the author or publisher or some other criteria, but those don’t always fit. Click here to find out more.

So what is Christian fiction? Various authors have tried to define it. Francine Rivers says:

If you pull out the Christian thread from the plot and the plot unravels, it’s Christian fiction.

Ann Tatlock says:

Anything a Christian writes must reflect the truth of God’s account. If as a Christian we don’t write from a biblical worldview, we’re not portraying reality as it is.

Penelope J Stokes defines Christian fiction as fiction that tells the truth.

Terry Burns and Linda Yezak divide Christian fiction into four categories:

  • Fiction written for believers
  • Fiction written for unbelievers
  • Fiction written for backsliders
  • Fiction written for seekers

Chawna Schroeder believes Christian fiction follows the guidelines of Philippians 4:8.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

Other authors have different views. Click here to check them out.

Are you targeting the Christian market, the general market, or seeking to sell a crossover title?

Click here to find out more.

Step Three: Understand what genre and subgenre you’re writing

Amazon has hundreds of book categories for fiction. They fall into three broad market categories:

Romance: developing a romantic relationship between two people, with a happy-ever-after ending. Click here to find out more. 

Action: mystery, suspense or thrillers, where the primary focus is on the action, not the character relationships. Click here to find out more. 

Worldbuilder: genres such as science fiction, fantasy, dystopian and paranormal, set in another world. Click here to find out more. 

What is your broad genre?

There are dozens—perhaps hundreds—of subgenres. Over the last three years, many of these have been discussed at Australasian Christian Writers. Click here for a roundup of the genre posts.

Each genre has its own structure and tropes, and you’ll need to know the tropes (and know how to twist them). Click here to check out a definition of trope, and ten common romance tropes, and click here to check out twelve more romance tropes (note: these lists are by no means exhaustive).

What tropes are you using?

It can be difficult to work out what genre you’re writing if you write the book first, then try and fit it to a genre. This is why experts recommend starting with a genre, and writing to the expectations of that genre. (And the best way to learn the genre expectations is to read widely, starting with some of the top-selling books in your chosen genre).

Step Four: When Is Your Novel Set?

Novels can be set in the past, present, or future (although that’s mostly Worldbuilding novels). Note that what we now consider historical classics (e.g. Jane Austen or Charles Dickens) were contemporary novels when they were published.

Historical fiction presents a particular challenge, as historical fiction requires research. Getting your facts right is important. There will always be a reader who has read everything about this period and who will point out all the inaccuracies and anachronisms in their review. Click here to read more.

One peculiarity of genre is that novels set in the recent past may be classified as contemporary fiction rather than historical. Click here to find out when historical fiction becomes contemporary.

When is your novel set?

Step Five: How Long is Your Novel?

The Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America classifies Nebula Award submissions into four categories based on word count:

  • Short story: under 7,500
  • Novelette: between 7,500 and 17,500
  • Novella: between 17,500 and 40,000
  • Novel: over 40,000

But there are long novels and short novels: American Christian Fiction Writers classify a novella as between 15,000 and 45,000 words, and a short novel as 45,000 to 70,000 words.

The desired word count for novels varies depending on genre. Click here to find out more.

Word count also depends on the target age: picture books tend to be 500 words. Middle Grade books average 35,000 words, but can be higher or lower depending on whether you’re targeting older or younger Middle Grade readers.

I’ve also been asked how many chapters a novel should have. That’s less important than the overall word count, and ensuring each scene and chapter moves the story forward. Click here to find out more.

How long is your novel, and is that consistent with reader expectations in your genre?

Step Six: Is Your Novel Part of a Series?

My personal opinion is that, where possible, authors should plan to write a series of books. This has advantages in both the writing and the marketing. Click here to find out more.

Is your novel part of a series?

If you have any questions about genre, let me know in the comments.

Understanding Genre
What is Christian Fiction?

Dear Editor | What is Christian Fiction?

Last week, I discussed the difficulty of defining Christian fiction, and covered six things that don’t define Christian fiction:

  • The author
  • The publisher
  • The organisation
  • The bookseller
  • The content
  • The world view

Today I’m going to look at four different definitions of Christian fiction … all of which are valid, and all of which leave plenty of room for interpretation.

So what is Christian fiction?

Authors Terry Burns and Linda W Yezak address the question in their book, Writing in Obedience: A Primer for Writing Christian Fiction. Reading Writing in Obedience was a lightbulb moment for me. It’s a conversation I’d been having with myself (and others), and the authors provide the best explanation I’ve seen. I’m going to summarise it here, but I do recommend you buy the book to read it for yourself.

First, the authors quote the definition of Christian fiction provided by Francine Rivers:

If you pull out the Christian thread from the plot and the plot unravels, it’s Christian fiction.

Some novels are more overtly Christian than others, and this may well depend on genre. It’s perhaps easier to have a Christian romance novel than a Christian fantasy novel (JRR Tolkien was a Christian, but this doesn’t make Lord of the Rings Christian fiction. Great fiction, sure. Just not great Christian fiction).

Burns and Yezak divide Christian fiction into four categories:

  • Fiction written for believers
  • Fiction written for unbelievers
  • Fiction written for backsliders
  • Fiction written for seekers

Believers want Christian fiction which wrestles with issues of faith, and they want to see the Christian main character emerge victorious. I agree. But it’s preaching to the choir, and we’re called to spread the gospel—which isn’t to say the choir doesn’t need help. It does.

Thankfully, not everyone is called to write for the choir. Some are called to write for unbelievers, backsliders and seekers, and this means adopting a different style of writing. The underlying theme and message may well be the same, but it has to be delivered in a way the reader wants. In this respect, Burns and Yezak say:

We should never share our faith directly with the reader. As soon as the reader realizes the author is talking directly to him, the book becomes preachy, and the chance he’ll put it down goes up significantly.

I believe this shows why many Christian authors are choosing to write fiction of a more “edgy” nature, or choosing to leave specific references to God and Jesus out of their stories: to reach backsliders, seekers and unbelievers. These are markets which desperately need to be reached, and perhaps can’t be reached through the traditional CBA/CRA market.

I commend those who are writing for backsliders, unbelievers and seekers, those who have to strike the balance between writing Christian fiction and being a Christian who writes fiction. It’s not an easy task.

Levels of Christian Fiction

David Bergsland of Radiqx Press wrote A Spiritual System for Rating Books to propose a rating system reviewers can use in rating the Christian content of the fiction they read and review. This is separate from the systems used by online bookstores such as Amazon and Kobo, where the ratings are defined by likeability.

Bergsland points out that the self-publishing revolution provides a means for authors to publish books that wouldn’t be considered by the publishing establishment, which means readers are being exposed to a wider range of thought. His central argument is that:

There is no Christian without a messiah

Bergsland’s ratings are:

One Star: The Clean Read

The clean read has no content that might offend a conservative Christian reader, but also no mention of God, Jesus, or Christianity.

Two Stars: The Legal Level

The focus of the story is on law, not grace. Biblical fiction falls into this category, as there was obviously no salvation through Jesus until after He died on the cross.

Three Stars: The Religious Level

Characters attend church and practice Christian values, but their Christian walk is habit and culture, and there is little difference between the Christian and the non-Christian characters.

Four Stars: Redemptive Fiction

Salvation and deliverance come through grace, not works, and the emphasis is on a personal relationship with Jesus. Christian characters read their Bibles and pray, and are noticeably different to the non-Christian characters.

Five Stars: Spirit-Filled Fiction

Believers accepted Jesus or a messiah and, they experience the power of the Lord and His Holy Spirit in their lives. Characters have (or develop) an intimate relationship with the Lord and show by example how God talks and communicates with His people.

Bergsland argues that only Redemptive Fiction and Spirit-Filled Fiction are truly “Christian” fiction, and that these books are rare. I suspect this is because the market is small, both in terms of people who are able to write such fiction, and people who are interested in reading it.

The Christian Writers Code

Chawna Schroeder defines Christian fiction in terms of the eight qualities in Philippians 4:8:

  • Whatever is true
  • Whatever is noble
  • Whatever is right (righteous)
  • Whatever is pure
  • Whatever is lovely
  • Whatever is admirable (of good repute)
  • If anything is excellent
  • If anything is praiseworthy

I’ve detailed Chawna’s view in The Christian Writers Code.

Five Types of Christian Fiction

As I was preparing this blog post, I came across a post where Christian writer Jake Doberenz shares his thoughts on five levels of Christian fiction. Doberenz sees Christian fiction as a continuum, from little or no faith to explicitly ChristianL

Faith in the Morality

A family-friendly or “clean read” that reinforces Christian standards of behaviour.

Faith in the Theme

A story that shows Christian values in the underlying themes e.g. forgiveness or redemption.

Faith in the Allegory

A retelling of a Biblical story in another setting, where Christians will recognise the allegory but non-Christians might not.

Faith in the Plot

Stories with at least some Christian character, and where faith is key to the plot.

Faith in the Message

An obviously Christian story, with overt Christian characters which always show the importance of faith in Christ. Where someone could argue that novels in the other four types are not Christian, there is no arguing with Faith in the Message stories.

Good Christian Fiction

There are similarities and differences in each of these four definitions. I’m sure we all have our own definitions.

Good Christian fiction, in my opinion, should:

  • Feature characters who are Christians, or who come to Christ in the course of the story.
  • Romance should be about more than the romantic tension between the hero and heroine.
  • Show the spiritual growth of either the hero or heroine, with the level of spiritual growth depending on their individual starting points. Just as in real life, we don’t get saved and suddenly become super-Christians who know everything (if only!). Christian life is about obedience to Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith (Heb 12:2). There would be no point if we were perfect.
  • Reflect a life that full of imperfect Christians trying to be real and live for God in a fallen world, working out our faith in fear and trembling and allowing God to work in us.

Christian fiction is about reflecting God in what we write, about allowing Him to work in and and through us, in our writing and in everything we do.

So that’s Christian fiction. What do you think?