PART 5: SYNTHESIS

 

Dave introduced this exercise with an analogy: we would be doing to Ezekiel’s Shadow what medical students do to a corpse in the autopsy theater: dissecting it for training purposes. Could we study the novel’s strengths and weaknesses and learn from them? Could we take specific observations from this prize-winning book and make generalizations about books in general? Those are some of the questions we have pursued over the past few days, and now it is time to bring it all together. After an in-depth look at structure, craft and theme in Ezekiel’s Shadow, what lessons can we take back to our own work?

    The answer depends on the reader, of course. If you’ve read Ezekiel’s Shadow, my analysis and Dave’s commentary, and if you’ve followed the discussion this week at the Faith in Fiction Forum, you’ve probably come up with a number of things to try on your own and a few to avoid. Your list, though, will look different than anyone else’s, because you have your own unique set of skills and shortcomings.

    What I propose to do today is outline five things this experience has taught me.

    Some of the lessons are new, and others are things I believed already that this process has reinforced. I’m sharing them in the hope that they will be beneficial and might lead you to think about the lessons you’ve learned and share them with the community.

    So, with no further ado....

 

LESSON ONE

 

A book doesn’t have to be perfect to be rewarding.

    In 2002, Ezekiel’s Shadow received the prestigious Christy Award for First Novel. Of all the debuts in the preceding year, the judges thought Dave’s was the strongest. By Dave’s own admission, Ezekiel’s Shadow is flawed. But the book’s weaknesses—which we have focused on quite a bit this week—do not overshadow its strengths. That should be a valuable lesson to aspiring writers, particularly those with a perfectionist streak. You will never eliminate all the weaknesses in your manuscript, and even if you did, a technically-perfect novel is nothing without heart.

    A critical analysis necessarily puts matters of craft under the microscope. That doesn’t mean that craft is all it takes to write a strong novel. As with many flawed books, Ezekiel’s Shadow’s fault-lines are the result of authorial daring and ambition. Dave attempted a great deal with this book and only managed some of it successfully. His strengths were enough not only to see the book in print, but to snag a top award. The lesson is clear. While it’s important to minimize your weaknesses, the essential thing is to feed your strengths.

 

LESSON TWO

 

As much as possible, design the action in your story to test the question.

    In Ezekiel’s Shadow, the questions concern Ian Merchant’s conversion and its impact on his art, but the action is primarily absorbed by the stalking sub-plot. As a result, some key revelations drop into the reader’s lap without his having to work for them. A writer’s struggle and failure at the keyboard is a difficult thing to dramatize, and Dave does provide (in the form of Kepler and Jacoby) object lessons that bridge the gap. He even makes the connections clear, including the one between the stalking and the conversion plot: the stalking and all its players send a message to Merchant that he cannot change. But somehow the conversion/art thread doesn’t feel as engaged as the stalking thread. Rightly or wrongly, I attribute this to a failure to follow John Gardner’s dictum about characters’ values being tested by action.

 

LESSON THREE

 

Play out pivotal scenes—the ones charged with conflict—and leave less important ones for exposition or summary.

    Scenes are like nails that hold the fabric of the story in place. It’s important to have the right ones in the right places. If there is a trick to knowing which scenes you need and which ones you don’t, no one ever shared it with me. You have to feel your way around as you write and then ask yourself afterward whether anything is missing.

    Your focus should be on conflict-charged scenes for two reasons. First, these are the ones that move the plot forward. Inevitably, the confrontations mark the essential points in the story. Second, action under pressure reveals character. We will learn more about a heroine from the way she reacts when her friend’s husband tries to kiss her in the elevator than we will watching her morning routine in laborious detail at the opening of every chapter.

 

LESSON FOUR

 

Employ religious imagery with subtlety and put an idiosyncratic spin on familiar symbols.

    The language and images of Scripture are full of power, but when they’re used in too blatant a way the result is equivalent to melodrama. For maximum impact, use them thoughtfully, with restraint. If your story requires you to work the implications out with dogged determination, be sure to read over the result afterward to be sure it’s not over the top or too “spot on.”

    If you’re a Christian writing for other Christians—and that’s the norm in the CBA—remember that your readers may be as acquainted with the Bible as you are. Be careful not to telegraph the outcome of your story through names, relationships and symbols early on. If your protagonist rebels against his rich dad and demands his inheritance early, your readers won’t be scratching their heads wondering what will become of the prodigal.

    Just because you’re writing from a Christian worldview doesn’t mean that you’re speaking for all Christians everywhere. Don’t be afraid to put your own unique spin on things. As a writer, you have an aesthetic sensibility of your own. Give readers your Christian perspective, not a party line.

 

LESSON FIVE

 

Don’t be afraid to confront issues of faith and “God talk” head-on, but do it realistically.

    As Dave mentioned in his announcement of the Faith in Fiction Conversion Story Contest, Christian writers struggle with how to handle “God talk” in their stories. In Ezekiel’s Shadow, there is an interesting progression: at first, Merchant’s conversion is described in fragmentary glimpses that are always subject to interpretation. Something religious happened to him in the Utah desert, and an old man we only gradually come to know baptized him—but into what? We don’t know for sure. This is a technique called defamiliarization. Because Merchant doesn’t know how to name his experience, the reader can’t be sure what that experience was or how much weight to put in it. As Merchant thinks through the implications, the balance shifts and we get a blend of familiar and ambiguous terminology, until finally, in the latter part of the book, he is conversing confidently in evangelical terms. Personally, I think this progression is handled well. It’s plausible that a spiritual seeker like Merchant would find salvation in such unconventional circumstances and then be uncertain what to think or say about it.

    One of the temptations we face is the urge to slip spiritual truths into the narrative. The hope is that, as he makes his way through the story, these subtle hints will sneak up on the reader and surprise him into faith. He thinks he’s reading a murder mystery and then—abracadabra!—here comes the Gospel.

    A much better idea would be to make the faith elements you want to address central to the story’s action. Readers don’t want to be manipulated, but they are surprisingly open-minded when the religious themes are essential to the plot’s development. Craft your story so that the themes you’re interested in as a writer cannot be avoided. In other words, while it is good to be subtle in the employment of symbolism, it is probably best to treat everyday religious experience head-on. Bring it out into the open as you would anything else, and the reader won’t choke on it.

 

CONCLUSION

 

This has been an unprecedented opportunity, and I’m grateful to have been a part of it. Since I first received Dave's invitation to do this critical analysis of his book, I've spoken to a number of authors about it and everyone agrees: it takes a lot of guts to open up your work to criticism in this way. The fact that he trusted me to do it means a lot. Thank you, Dave.

    I also want to thank all the writers and readers who have helped to make the discussion at the Faith in Fiction Forum so lively.

    Now that I've shared the five lessons I'm taking away from this, here's a challenge for you: visit the Critical Analysis section of the Faith in Fiction Forum and share five things you've learned from reading and discussing Ezekiel’s Shadow this week!