'I have written you an opera...'

It's pretty inevitable that (barring any major life event) I'm going to be writing about my first novel over the next few months.

At times I feel like the phantom - from the Phantom of the Opera, gatecrashing a masquerade and announcing: 'I have written you an opera'. The imaginary hushed silence is, hopefully, simply a dark fear that I hold in my worst moments (of which I have a few).

I've just put together the Amazon page so that anyone who wants to can pre-order the ebook. And it will be an ebook first. There is such a huge debate about artificially enhanced ebook prices and the way in which Amazon deal with authors that I decided to set the ebook price fairly low. The whole publishing industry seems to be in flux and I worry that it is the reader who will always lose out. So at least, as an indie author, I have the right to set the ebook price.

Why should you read this book?

My answer is that it will be an escape and I would like you to enjoy it. It won't make you a better (or worse) person. It won't give you coping strategies or make you more confident at public speaking. It won't enhance you in any way apart from being an escape from the tyranny of always feeling that you need to enhance yourself.

It was written to be enjoyed and any message which the book carries is subconscious on my part. I've not set out to promote any particular agenda (or to preach). I set out to write a story. Perhaps there are hidden messages, perhaps in books there always are.

What is it about?

I've made no secret to the fact that this story is set against the backdrop of a megachurch. There is a reason that I've selected a Christian as my hero. It is because there are so few Christian heroes in story. And there is also a reason that I've selected a Christian as my villain.

It is because I can get away with it.

Although, to be fair, many modern authors get away with creating Christian villains whether they are believers or not.

So, I mean, I have an excuse. And in this case the Christian villains are almost caricatures. That is deliberate.

But I'm pre-empting criticism...

It's a story - and it is supposed to be enjoyed. Not everyone will like it, but I hope some people will at least read it. If people don't read it, it is just one of those things. As Neil Gaiman says, whatever happens, 'make good art'.

Whether it is good art or not I will leave for you to decide. But I'm deliberately calling it art because it does have depth.

So - 'I have written you an opera' and here's the link...


Destiny and Dynasty - Amazon page

Destiny and Dynasty Trailer

Okay, here is the book trailer which I've created for Destiny and Dynasty.

It is coming out on 15th December (at first as an ebook and then as a paperback).

Hope you like the trailer.

It will all make sense in the end...

Nick White has written a book!

Have you ever won an argument long after it even mattered?

I've won an argument that took place almost 30 years ago. In fact the argument has likely been forgotten by everyone but me.

Let me explain. Back in high school I decided with a couple of friends that I would write a book. We planned to write a book in the style of the fighting fantasy and role playing material which we liked. In English lessons we had just read 'The Hobbit' and we were inspired to write a similar book with a kind of 'choose your own' format (turn to page 50 if you remember these books).

We spoke to our English teacher and I got so far as to paint a storyboard picture of a castle carved into a mountaintop. But we were kids and our patience, inspiration and interest waned - especially after our English teacher gave us a lukewarm reception.

In my maths class a popular and trendy boy announced to the maths teacher:

"Sir, have you heard the latest? Nick White is going to write a book!"

There was laughter. I withered in my seat and distracted myself with the logarithm book which would never be a practical benefit in my future.

But I did end up writing a book and winning this argument even if those first plans came to nothing - my first book 'Compliance is Futile' was published a few years ago.

And now I have written my first ever fictional novel. The eagle-eyed among you will notice that this blog has a launch date on the right hand side. All being well the novel 'Destiny and Dynasty' will be available on 15th December this year.

The picture on this blog entry is a draft version of the cover.

So I won an argument years after it mattered and years after anyone but me cared.

But I kind of like that.

Sympathy for the Chaff

There are a number of responsibilities that a writer has. One of these is to understand that whatever you do to make a bad guy unlikable, somebody, somewhere is going to prefer the bad guy to the good guy. And it is the author's responsibility to make allowances for this.

I'm in the process of finishing off my first novel and I would be naive to believe that if people read it, some readers are not going to prefer the antagonists to the protagonists. This is just human nature and an aspect of reading and listening to stories. Who hasn't watched a film and rooted for the bad guy a few times (especially if the story is clumsy, full of cliches and lacking in skill)?

I've been thinking about this recently because I've just got back from a threshing festival. Many people are familiar with the saying: 'sort the wheat from the chaff'. It's a popular saying which originates from Bible times. John the Baptist described Christ in this way... 

"His winnowing fork is in his hand to clear his threshing floor and to gather the wheat into his barn, but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire."

I approach all this biblical stuff with the eyes of a writer and perhaps that is a mistake. But the 'wheat'/'chaff' symbolism is mirrored in many stories. Modern literature often attempts to give the protagonists flaws so that the distinction is less obvious. Of course there are anti-heroes too. But skilled writers can create characters who are likable despite having negative characteristics. And in the end, many fictional characters can be reduced to being either wheat or chaff.

Readers are not stupid (maybe some are but I don't want to go into that). On the whole readers know when an author wants them to like a certain character and sometimes (and for eclectic reasons), they will not do what an author wants them to do.

There are many people who believe that Christ is the greatest storyteller who ever lived. I believe this too. This is not just sycophancy (although it can be). Christ's parables have immense depth and contain symbolism, irony and a whole host of techniques which are way beyond the capabilities of storytellers such as myself. Christ also sorts his characters into the strange archetypes of wheat and chaff. There are parallels in his parables - there are worthy and unworthy servants, wise and foolish virgins, there are shrewd managers and persistent widows and unmerciful judges and unforgiving servants and powerful kings and good Samaritans and branches that remain in the vine and branches that are cut off from the vine and good and bad fish. There is wheat and there is chaff.

For the reader who is behaving while listening to a story, it is an easy choice to make - associate with the good Samaritan, the worthy servant, the wise virgin, the branch that remains resolutely part of the vine. For others there is another choice - associate with the cut off branch or associate with the chaff.

A good storyteller instinctively knows that his or her listeners or readers will do this.

So take the distinction between the wheat and the chaff. In reality the wheat is separated from the chaff as it is collected. The grains of wheat are packed into sacks and they go on to be powdered by a millstone and made into bread or shredded-wheat or whatever (see? I've probably even got that wrong - I haven't learned a thing I tell you!). The chaff falls to the ground, is blown away by the wind or else destroyed. The stalks of the wheat are made into straw and usually used as feed for animals (hold on... what about the stalks?!!).

What I'm trying to say (clumsily) is this: It doesn't matter which character you associate with when it comes to stories or parables. It doesn't matter if you associate with the wheat or if you associate with the chaff. Associating with one or the other does not in itself sort the wheat from the chaff.

And that is because of one fact: A good storyteller should know that this happens all the time.

Think happy thoughts.

Loud flower

Some flowers are louder than others.

Is Britain Christian? ITV Tonight review 24th July 2014

Changes

The heat has driven me into becoming a precious whinger again. 

Last night's ITV Tonight programme on the state of modern-day Christianity in Britain was interesting but could have been made ten years ago.

The programme discussed David Cameron's much debated claim that what remains of Britain is still a Christian country and his call for people of faith to share that faith (just so long as you don't work in the NHS... or a whole range of other occupations).

And maybe reporters will just look at the next census figures and rehash a similar report in ten years time. The established churches perpetually waning and some of the charismatic and evangelical churches perpetually growing. Food banks and secular alternatives to faith made a brief mention, but that is all that they were.

The conclusions were the same as were expressed in 2004 and this is partly because the British media now have very few journalists who have either the skill, expertise or inclination to understand the state of Christianity in the UK today.

Despite a tradition of journalists covering both the ebb and the flow of faith in this country it seems that mainstream editors do not, on the whole, think that faith is newsworthy. It is a constant complaint that the only news that Christianity gets is negative. We can't all be precious whingers.

So, with the last specialist faith reporter in the established media losing her job a matter of months ago is it any wonder that the resulting reports are largely rehashed and superficial? Or is it simply a mirroring of a tide which is still going out?

The conclusion of the Tonight programme was this: Christianity is on the wane. And this is an ebb which is predicted to continue. One expert even forecasted that this trend would continue into the future. It was almost a prophesy. And they can be misleading.

Actually, the program wasn't entirely unfair. At least there were none of the outrageous generalisations which have characterized too much output relating to Christianity. But again, these generalisations and inaccuracies are partly due to a dearth of specialist faith reporters. Again I whinge.

The conclusion of 'Tonight' was the same as ten years ago. Remember, this is a report on the state of faith in the nation now and according to this report Christianity is largely on the wane.

But it is so much more complicated than this.

Perhaps anyone with any sense would have spent the evening watching the tide from a beach.

Think happy thoughts.

The Parable of the Over-Competitive Fisherman

In the following parable I use a number of techniques, many of which are particular to parables. Firstly, I deliberately reject the ‘show don’t tell’ command. Historically parables have contained elements of telling. I also deliberately keep the writing style simplistic because this is how parables work – parables contain depth yet seem deceptively simple at first glance.

So, obviously the fish, the fisherfolk, the king, his army and the over-competitive fisherman are counterparts to other things. This is an internal puzzle which is not hard to solve for those familiar with the genre. The woodland and the boy are harder to parallel. The king going away on a long journey is also a traditional theme. The ‘intrusive’ narrative voice is deliberate and is here used to divert the reader towards a ‘parable teller’. This is a character in himself. The narrator is not necessarily the author.

It is not a difficult parable to unravel and one feature of most parables is that they are not usually explained by the teller. They are left for the listener or reader to figure out. But here I have deliberately broken the second rule of the parable – which is to present a spiritual message. My first draft did conform to the norms of parables and contain the spiritual message but I changed the ending for it to work better in terms of story. The original ending stopped before the last few paragraphs and it is obvious that this changes the story significantly. Above all I wanted to adhere to the first rule of parable which is that it is supposed to be a story and an escape...

The parable of the over-competitive fisherman

A king once owned a vast lake in which all kinds of fish lived.

The king went away on a long journey with his army, telling his servants to fish the lake for him. He was a very kind king even though he was immensely powerful.

But as soon as he left, the servants began to argue with each other. They started to call themselves ‘the king’s fisherfolk’ (men, women and children) and they formed two groups, one on the West side, then one on the East. But even these groups split so that there were eventually fisherfolk on three sides of the lake. One side of the lake protested against another side and the third side just shrugged and said that they were the true fisherfolk anyway. The only other side of the lake was covered in woodland and no-one could fish from it.

There were intense arguments between the fisherfolk about the best way to catch fish. The fisherfolk on the Western side tended to have the better equipment and conditions. The sun seemed to shine on them although the fishing conditions were challenging in some ways. Mostly they had problems because they tripped over their equipment. Some of them had rods and equipment which was so expensive and sophisticated that it was easier for them to catch the fish. The equipment sometimes got in the way or distracted them.

The Western fisherfolk argued among themselves about the best way to catch fish and please their master. Many of them had fist fights or wouldn’t speak to each other. Others didn’t see the point in fishing and went off to do something they were more interested in. Perhaps they were the wisest.

There were all kinds of disputes. The fisherfolk on the West always looked down on the fisherfolk on the other sides of the lake. They were only united in this. They would often accuse each other of cheating or of scaring the fish away. One of the fisherfolk on the East was just a boy who only had a line which he baited with a worm and dangled into the water from the branch of a tree. He couldn’t even afford a rod.

There was also one particular fisherman on the Western side who was rich and had better equipment than many of the others. There were a lot of fisherfolk in the team which he led. But he would condescend towards the poorer fisherfolk and remain aloof and over-competitive. He would even toss grenades from his survival belt into the lake. Whenever he did this he would kill a lot of the fish and set his team to scoop them up in huge nets. He caught countless fish this way. But others noticed that he scared away most of the life within the lake.

Not content with lobbing grenades, this fisherman would also go out onto the lake in a trawler and dredge to the bottom with huge nets. All of the other fisherfolk were so scared of him because he said that he was pleasing the king more than them as he had caught so many more fish than they had.

The boy was very sad when he saw and heard all this. He went out every day to fish the lake but could never catch any fish, the fisherfolk on his side had so little equipment and, truth be told, some of the fisherfolk had made the fish very wary. A lot of the time the boy would just talk to the other fisherfolk and the rich fisherman would watch him in the distance and think he was lazy.

The rich fisherman announced from a loudspeaker: “When the king gets back from his journey he will let me relax with him in the best room of his palace because I’ve caught the most fish. I win.”

He even sometimes said that the king had sent him secret messages which told him he was his best fisherman and that he was very pleased with him. “The king is with me, me, me...” he sang. Many of the others became discouraged because of all this and gave up fishing.

For many years this was simply the way things were. But one day, as suddenly as a thief might break into a house, the king came back from his journey. He appeared, with his army at his lakeside and called all his servants together from every side. The woodland watched on silently, breathing in the wild wind. He asked each of his servants in turn one simple question:

“Did you catch any fish in my lake?”

Many of the fisherfolk had somehow caught fish and the king sent them off to relax in his palace. When he came to the boy he asked him the same question.

The boy replied: “No, I’m sorry, not one.”

The king was surprised at this, but when he saw that the boy only had a line with a hook and that the fishing conditions were so challenging he understood what had happened.

So the king told the boy that he could stop fishing and go and play in the best part of his palace.

The rich fisherman also went before the king. He had freezers stocked full of fish. He had caught so many and stocked them with salt in vast refrigerated warehouses which he had built. He had also secretly eaten and sold on a number of the fish himself. I suppose that is what happens when you are over-competitive.

“How many fish did you catch?” asked the king.

“153,000” replied the fisherman, his chest swelling in pride.

“Pretty impressive,” said the king, “you have worked very hard haven’t you? Are you tired?”

“That wasn’t on the agenda,” replied the fisherman. “But I would like to point out once again that I have caught the most fish. You like fish don’t you?”

“Love them,” replied the king. But he was very depressed by the over-competitive fisherman as he had never wanted fish to be captured quite in the way that they were. The strange, kind king didn’t want to send the fisherman out of his kingdom into the burning heat of exile where he wouldn’t survive.

“I thought I could have a sabbatical?” said the fisherman, “Where do you want me to rest in the palace?”

“You really are very efficient and shrewd,” said the king, “so you can go and carry on working for my fisherfolk there. They will need someone to cook for them.”

And it all would have ended there if the over-competitive fisherman hadn’t been quite so shrewd (as the king had so accurately perceived).

The rich fisherman could see that he was facing a menial role as a lowly servant in the palace. Although he was relieved not to be sent into the burning heat of exile he did keenly realize that he had very little to lose at this point.

“I’ve just spent my adult career working for you despite the fact that you have been entirely absent and despite your inane request for fish,” blurted the fisherman.

The king seemed momentarily taken aback.

“I am not going to carry on being your lacky in your palace, serving fools who have been unable to fish effectively. So I utterly refuse to play your game.”

The king nodded, smiled to himself. As if unsurprised. As if nothing could surprise him. As if he knew the future. 

And then he said, “I’m afraid you have no choice. You put the 'tit' into 'competitive'. Even now my army is coming to take you to your place. No value judgement intended, you understand.”

It was too much for the fisherman. Reaching towards his survival belt he unclipped a spare grenade and rolled it towards the king. The grenade landed at the king’s feet. He paused to look down and then smiled.

“But that’s not a fish,” he said (momentarily confused).

“You’re damned right,” replied the fisherman, turning and running away as fast as a ridiculous thought.

The inevitable explosion blasted the kind king into a thousand and one bloody pieces.

A few of the pieces landed in the lake where hungry, confused fish devoured them and then returned to the freedom of the water.

It was, some may say, ironic that the fish should win out in the end. Others may say it was meaningless, without rhyme or reason.

But I’m simply trying to tell you what happened. The over-competitive fisherman won, along with the fish and the trees of the hungry, watching woods which swayed and clapped their hands in a mad Westerly wind.