Or, ‘Whose Story Is This, Anyway?’
In a recent post, I talked about some of the things I’m learning as I learn the craft of writing fiction.
I’m still learning.
I started with a story I wanted to tell. I created a set of characters that I would need to tell that my story. And I gave each of them a unique personality.
Then I started writing my story.
And my characters, the ones I created, to tell my story, aren’t cooperating.
“Mr. Steadman, I need you to jump off this cliff,” I say.
He says, “I don’t jump off cliffs. In this situation, I would use a rope and rappel.”
“But that doesn’t move the story along. I need you to jump off the cliff.”
“That’s your problem. I’ll go get my rappelling harness.”
Now, my authority, and my power, are not to be underestimated in this situation. (My wisdom and knowledge, on the other hand, are hard to underestimate. You may have to think on that one for a minute. 😉 I can force Mr. Steadman to do what I asked him to do. I can kill him off and promote Mr. Guerrero to take his place. I can erase any hint that he ever existed. I can make him wear pink pajamas and bunny slippers. (For a little context, Mr. Steadman is a veteran Special Forces operator.)
But I choose not to do any of those things. Why? Because if I do, my characters, and ultimately my stories, lose credibility. If I force my character to do something ‘out of character’, I have to believe (or at least hope) that my readers are smart enough, and sufficiently engaged with the characters, that they’ll immediately pick up on the inconsistency.
People read fiction for different reasons. Some for entertainment. Some for a temporary escape. Some for inspiration or to stimulate their imagination. But their ability to enjoy reading fiction depends to a significant degree on their ability to immerse themselves in the story and the characters. To suspend disbelief for just an hour or two and to believe this alternate reality is itself real.
If my characters are inconsistent, the illusion of reality is shattered. My readers will put my book down and look for something else.
But how much am I like the characters in my book?
God created me to play a role in telling His Story. But he also gave me free will—the freedom to choose what I will, or won’t, do.
God does sometimes kill off characters that won’t cooperate. (King Saul, Annanias and Saffira.) But more often he uses circumstances (Jonah and the whale) or people (Samuel to King David after the incident with Bathsheba) to gently nudge his protagonist back onto his original plot. And sometimes God puts his protagonist through very difficult circumstances (Joseph, Job) not because they’re misbehaving but because he needs to prepare them for the plot twists he will soon set before them.
But God never takes away our freedom to choose. Even if we choose to disobey. And even though, as the one who created us, he has that authority.
In some way I think that is because the integrity of his story depends on it. That story is ultimately about his grace—his unmerited favor—extended to us. That favor is ‘unmerited’ precisely because we didn’t cooperate with his script. We went our own way, rejecting his authority over our lives, and he loved us anyway. If he starts forcing people into obedience, his story loses its credibility … and its glory.
The difference between my characters and me is that my characters were created by an imperfect—and arguably incompetent—human being. (I did, after all, ask Mr. Steadman to jump off a cliff.) I may have failed to create exactly the right character to tell my story. That’s on me, not on the character I created.
But God is not me. He doesn’t make mistakes. He didn’t make a mistake when he created me. So the absolute best path for my life is to be about playing the role he has set for me.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “Plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Isaiah 29:11 NIV
The question is, whom do I trust more? Myself, or the Author of the Universe?