Mike Duran's Blog, page 17

Adult Coloring Books as New Age Evangelism?

Adult coloring books are a thing. Some have even called it The Hottest Trend in Publishing.

Nine of the 20 books on Amazon’s current bestseller list contain few words and belong to a genre that didn’t exist two years ago. Welcome to the biggest publishing craze of the year: coloring books for adults.

More than 2,000 have hit stands since 2013 and the genre’s two biggest bestsellers, “Secret Garden” and “Enchanted Forest,” have sold a combined 13.5 million copies in 50 countries.

Apparently, the practice is viewed more as a way to relieve stress than anything.

Some liken coloring to yoga or meditation.

“It’s kind of a way of being creative without the stress of too much creativity. You’re not stressing yourself out as much as you would if you were to draw from scratch, but you’re still getting some of the relaxing qualities of creating,” says Peter Gray, professor of psychology at Boston College.

And herein lies the problem for many Christians.

In Adult Coloring Books and Mandalas, a Warning for Christians the author (someone named The Last Hiker) frames the adult coloring book craze as less of an innocuous stress reliever as it is a “door to demons” and “New Age evangelism.” The argument is laid out this way:

I have no problem with coloring books. I have kids. We color.

I do have problems with Mandalas though, which happen to be a part of most of these adult coloring books.

So, I just want to give a warning to my sweet Christian friends to stay away from mandalas and I will let you know why.

A mandala is that beautiful circle pattern that looks like it would be impossible to draw free hand. It is also a “spiritual and ritual symbol in Indian religions, representing the universe.  In common use, mandala has become a generic term for any diagram, chart or geometric pattern that represents the cosmos metaphysically or symbolically; a microcosm of the universe.” (Wikipedia).

It is a concentric energy circle.

A mandala is used in tantric Buddhism as an aid to meditation. They meditate on the image until they are saturated by it. They believe that you can merge with the deity by meditating on the mandala. “A mandala is also visualized (dhyana) by the yogin whose aim it is to merge with the deity.”

Focusing on mandalas is a spiritual practice where you merge with “deities”–this practice opens the door to demons.

According to this author, the mandala’s connection to Eastern religious thought and practice is not the only problem. Apparently, Carl Jung employed the symbols in psychotherapy. “Carl Jung brought the Eastern spiritual ritual of drawing mandalas to Western culture in a ‘scientific’ context.” Thus, this occult symbol has been covertly imported into Western culture under the guise of therapeutic healing. The author summarizes:

“No Christian would put one [a mandala] in their house and sit and stare at it for an hour, chanting the sacred word!

But if the enemy can get a Christian to stare at a mandala because they are coloring it, he can have them absentmindedly focus their attention on the image and they will unknowingly open up their subconscious to this image in almost the same way.”

The discussion of symbology is important for Christians. It’s not trivial or unimportant. I also would sympathize with the author’s concern that Eastern and New Age thought is uncritically being imported into Christian thought and practice. Sadly, however, many Christians tend to approach this discussion with a “touch not, taste not” ethos. In other words,

They demonize THINGS and then
Condemn the handling, adherence to, practice of those THINGS

This discussion treads upon two important issues for Christians — personal liberty and superstition.

Perhaps the most lengthy address in Scripture which broaches these involves “meat sacrificed to idols.” Some first century Christians were concerned that meat they purchased at the market may have been sacrificed to idols. Apparently, their fear was that they might somehow be corrupted by meat that had been sacrificed to such idols. Notice how the Apostle Paul tackles this:

4 So then, about eating food sacrificed to idols: We know that “An idol is nothing at all in the world” and that “There is no God but one.” 5 For even if there are so-called gods, whether in heaven or on earth (as indeed there are many “gods” and many “lords”), 6 yet for us there is but one God, the Father, from whom all things came and for whom we live; and there is but one Lord, Jesus Christ, through whom all things came and through whom we live.

7 But not everyone possesses this knowledge. Some people are still so accustomed to idols that when they eat sacrificial food they think of it as having been sacrificed to a god, and since their conscience is weak, it is defiled. 8 But food does not bring us near to God; we are no worse if we do not eat, and no better if we do. — I Cor. 8:4-7 NIV

First, Paul disarms the notion that the idols which may have been sacrificed to are any THING. “An idol is nothing at all in the world,” he writes. He even dismisses them as “so-called gods.” Now, we know that Paul believed that demonic powers were real (Eph. 6, for example). But here he seems unconcerned with any demon’s actual influence upon said meat. So here he addresses superstition — the belief that some THING (in this case meat sacrificed to idols) is actually tainted by its previous handler’s usage, ritual, and intent. Which he then follows up by discussing personal liberty, and being sensitive to the conscience of a weaker brother (I Cor. 8:7-13). In other words, while Paul believes meat sacrificed to idols is not inherently evil, he recognizes that it still might be an issue for the less mature and cautions those with personal liberty to exercise caution about how they partake of such meat.

This theme of superstition and personal liberty is taken up again in the Book of Romans. In that instance, Paul addressed the problematic issues of dietary laws and “holy days.” While some believed that abiding by the Old Testament’s dietary laws was more holy, others did not. While some still recognized sabbath laws and ceremonial celebrations, others viewed them as inconsequential. The apostle Paul’s argument was,

“One person considers one day more sacred than another; another considers every day alike. Each of them should be fully convinced in their own mind,” (Rom. 14:5) [and] “I am convinced, being fully persuaded in the Lord Jesus, that nothing is unclean in itself. But if anyone regards something as unclean, then for that person it is unclean” (Rom. 14:14).

It’s a similar two-pronged argument to the one used in Corinthians. First he addresses superstition — noTHING is inherently unclean and no day is inherently more sacred than another. We do not believe that objects and symbols contain inherent power for good or evil. Their “power” lies in the human association with them. Likewise, mandalas do not contain inherent power. Yes, some may use them as a tool for evil. But the symbol itself is not inherently “unclean.” (As a sidenote, the author of the above post has included several mandalas in their actual post. If these symbols are inherently evil or, at least, powerfully tempting, I find it odd for someone so concerned with the symbol’s evil to have included them.) So Paul brings the argument back to personal liberty saying that if someone views something as unclean, “then FOR THAT PERSON it is unclean.” To relate this to the mandala debate, Unless one is prepared argue that the actual patterns used to create the mandala can actually guide one’s subconscious mind to darkness, mandalas are not inherently evil. However, the person who is stumbled by them should definitely avoid them.

Articles like the one above follow a rather kneejerk response: Because they see the mandala as tainted by its origins and previous handlers, they seek to demonize the symbol for everyone and impose abstinence across the board.

Yes. There is a time to destroy occult artifacts. We find one such account in the Book of Acts:

A number of them who had been practicing sorcery brought their incantation books and burned them at a public bonfire. The value of the books was several million dollars. (Acts 19:19 NLT)

This is an important verse for a couple reasons. It clearly shows that repentance should involve an actual breaking from practices, habits, and rituals, that tie someone to an occult, sinful lifestyle. However, it does not suggest that “incantation books” contain inherent power. Their power lied in the sorcerer’s relation to them. Thus, burning the scrolls broke any physical connection between the two (and eliminated temptation to return to their previous practice). Which means in some cases, the Christian who has used mandalas to summon deities or channel psychic power should burn those symbols immediately. The person who has no similar relation to said symbols, and does not employ them for occult purposes, should feel free to color away.

So are adult coloring books a doorway to demons and a gateway to New Age religion? In some cases, perhaps. But for the most part, I think they fall into the category of wonderfully fancy designs for leisurely creative enjoyment.

Is Science Abandoning Materialism?

The problem of consciousnesses has proved vexing for scientists. Where does it comes from? Does it exist outside the body? Has it evolved from material substances? The dilemmas with “mind as matter” are numerous. First there is the logical conundrum of whether or not a mind evolved from matter can be trusted with its own dissection. Sort of like a fish trying to define what it means to be “wet.” Then there’s the issue of morality and ethics. Are morals simply a byproduct of chemical interactions? If so, what makes them moral? Nevertheless, scientists have been loathe to concede non-material elements compromise the human species, much less the Universe itself.

The problems with strict materialism are inescapable. However, some scientist appear to slowly (begrudgingly) be conceding that Mind or Consciousness has been the stuff of the cosmos from the very beginning of time.

In his piece, Mind of a Rock, NY Times columnist Jim Holt described one preeminent philosopher’s conclusions:

The doctrine that the stuff of the world is fundamentally mind-stuff goes by the name of panpsychism. A few decades ago, the American philosopher Thomas Nagel showed that it is an inescapable consequence of some quite reasonable premises. First, our brains consist of material particles. Second, these particles, in certain arrangements, produce subjective thoughts and feelings. Third, physical properties alone cannot account for subjectivity. (How could the ineffable experience of tasting a strawberry ever arise from the equations of physics?) Now, Nagel reasoned, the properties of a complex system like the brain don’t just pop into existence from nowhere; they must derive from the properties of that system’s ultimate constituents. Those ultimate constituents must therefore have subjective features themselves — features that, in the right combinations, add up to our inner thoughts and feelings. But the electrons, protons and neutrons making up our brains are no different from those making up the rest of the world. So the entire universe must consist of little bits of consciousness. (bold, mine)

This article is almost a decade old. Since then, panpsychism, the belief that Matter is Mind or that of a Conscious Universe, appears to be gaining steam in the scientific community. So much so that LiveScience recently proclaimed ‘Panpsychism’ Takes Hold in Science, describing this trend as “a kind of re-boot of ancient animistic ideas… [in which] every speck of matter has a kind of proto-consciousness” that, when aggregated, “turns into a sense of inner awareness.” If you’re thinking that this sounds very “Eastern” and “New-Agey,” you’d be correct.

Neuroscientists and many philosophers have typically planted themselves firmly on the materialist side. But a growing number of scientists now believe that materialism cannot wholly explain the sense of “I am” that undergirds consciousness….

One of those scientists is Christof Koch, the president and chief scientific officer of the Allen Institute for Brain Science in Seattle [who] described a relatively recent formulation of consciousness called the integrated information theory. The idea, put forward by University of Wisconsin-Madison neuroscientist and psychiatrist Giulio Tononi, argues that consciousness resides in an as-yet-unknown space in the universe. (bold, mine)

Of course, the idea that consciousness simply exists somewhere else in the material universe could be simply kicking the can further down the proverbial road. Furthermore, wouldn’t that in theory still make Mind a product of Matter? From this perspective, we just haven’t found the “space” where consciousness exists.

Either way, it’s fascinating to watch modern Science drift further away from strict Materialism. What’s scary is that rather than acknowledging there may be some elements of the Universe which defy scientific scrutiny, they instead resort to a “re-boot of ancient animistic ideas.” So while it’s good to see Science move away from strict Materialism, swapping that view for something more esoteric and occult could prove equally problematic.

The Great Indie Stars Book Giveaway

Publishers Weekly is currently featuring The Ghost Box in The Great Indie Stars Book Giveaway. Here’s more of the details:

Join Publishers Weekly in celebrating the Indie Stars of 2015 with a book giveaway featuring some of BookLife’s best-reviewed titles.

“This promotion allows us to celebrate some of the best indie titles from that last 12 months,” said BookLife President Carl Pritzkat. “It highlights PW‘s commitment to finding, reviewing, and promoting the very best self-published titles out there. We’re very excited to be working with such talented authors and to be giving away so many great books.”

Featuring 12 indie authors whose books received starred reviews from PW in 2015, the Great Indie Stars Book Giveaway will award a grand total of 12 books — 11 paperbacks and one e-book — to 10 lucky winners.

Along with eleven other titles, twelve paperback copies of The Ghost Box are up for grabs. I’m honored to be included here and appreciative of PW’s selection. You can enter for a chance to win HERE.

How Atheist Authors Steal from God

Augustine suggested that either there is real evil to fear or the fact that we fear what is not really evil, is evil.

Good stories appeal to real evil which, by extension, suggests moral absolutes. You can’t have bad guys without real evil. You can’t have compelling drama without real stakes. Even if a story is simply about survival, the underlying assumption is that life is better than death, that struggling against odds is more noble than simply surrendering to the elements.

Which is the reason why moral absolutism is more viable for authors than, say, a relativistic worldview.

It’s not just because objective, moral absolutes are more intellectually compelling, but because they jibe with reality. Whether or not they import stark moral or biblical language, fictional worlds that involve moral absolutes and real evil are more interesting than those that don’t. Tolkien’s Middle Earth was mired in war. Why? Because Evil existed. And because it existed, the players were on one side or the other. We didn’t root for Frodo because he was cute and had furry feet, but because he was on the right side.

Nevertheless, atheists and moral relativists continue to write good stories. If they are true materialists, humanists, or relativists, how do they do this? The answer is simple — by stealing from God.

Joss Whedon is a good example. While promoting his movie Serenity (2005), writer director Joss Whedon (Atheist & Absurdist) made these comments in a Q&A-session:

I believe the only reality is how we treat each other. The morality comes from the absence of any grander scheme, not from the presence of any grander scheme.

So while “the only reality is how we treat each other,” Whedon believes that “reality” emerged from a vacuum — “from the absence of any grander scheme.” One assumes that Whedon believes we should treat each other with dignity, respect, love and compassion. But how such virtues arise from an amoral vacuum is puzzling. (It could also be asked on what grounds we arbitrate how people SHOULD treat one another.) Unless Whedon is appealing to morals that arise from a “grander scheme,” the morals he appeals to are foundationless. Richard Dawkins in his book The God Delusion is a bit more consistent when he admits that no right and wrong exist, only “blind, pitiless indifference.” How absolute morals arise from a cosmos of “blind, pitiless indifference”is the question facing atheist storytellers. For anything other than purely utilitarian reasons — survival, societal ease, emotional well-being — there is no reason to treat each other morally.

In his speech at Harvard University while receiving the Outstanding Lifetime Achievement Award in Cultural Humanism at Harvard University, Whedon built upon his thesis:

The enemy of humanism is not faith. The enemy of humanism is hate, is fear, is ignorance, is the darker part of man that is in every humanist, every person in the world. That is what we have to fight. Faith is something we have to embrace. Faith in god means believing absolutely in something with no proof whatsoever. Faith in humanity means believing absolutely in something with a huge amount of proof to the contrary. We are the true believers.

So atheists DO have faith. Only in this case, it’s “faith in humanity.” Which we can extrapolate to really mean “Faith in an advanced primate who arose by blind chance and will disappear into the ‘blind, pitiless, indifferent’ Void.” Perhaps more interesting is Whedon’s reference to “hate,” “fear,” “ignorance,” and “the darker part of man.” By inference, Light is something we must aspire to. Again, what is Whedon’s reference point? If he’s speaking to a yin and yang paradigm (i.e., darkness is just the flip side of light and, ultimately, complimentary), the squelching of my interior “darkness” is rather meaningless — instead, I must embrace it. If the “light” is an arbitrary construct  determined by individuals or by societies, then that “light” constantly changes (per individual and society) and has a limited lifespan (the species from which it arose). If however Whedon is appealing to some standard outside of ourselves, some transcendent objective Ideal, then he’s borrowing from a Judeo-Christian worldview.

Apologist Frank Turek, in his book Stealing from God: Why Atheists Need God to Make Their Case, expands on this idea:

Good has to exist for you to know what evil is. If there’s one thing really morally wrong out there, like it’s wrong to torture babies for fun, or it’s wrong to murder six million people in a holocaust, then there has to be a God. Why? Because something can’t be really wrong unless there’s something really right, and something can’t be really right unless there’s a standard of really right, and that’s just not Richard Dawkins’ opinion or Mother Theresa’s opinion. There’s an opinion behind or there’s a standard beyond all of those people. And that standard is God’s nature.

Which is why creatives like Whedon, though proclaiming their atheism, still appeal to moral absolutes to make their stories — and worldview — compelling. “The enemy of humanism is… the darker part of man that is in every humanist, every person in the world.” Amen! However, if there is a “darker part of man,” this assumes there is a “lighter part of man,” a more true, moral, and pure part. But unless Whedon is appealing to an ultimate standard outside himself, who decides what this light in man is SUPPOSED to like? So as Augustine said, either the “darkness” and “fear” that Whedon speaks of is real, or the fact that he fears what is really not evil, IS evil.

It’s true of the Star Wars universe, the Firefly universe, the Dune universe, or the Star Trek universe. Without some higher, more transcendent, more noble Good to which we are aspiring, it’s pretty much just survival of the fittest.

Christian Speculative Fiction and the “God Problem”

Of all writers, you’d think that Christian ones would have a handle on God. But you’d be wrong. Especially as it relates to writing fiction. Notably of the speculative variety.

It starts with the question — What is the defining trait of “Christian fiction”?

Ask that question to a dozen evangelicals and you’ll probably get a different answer. This article at Library Journal defines the genre by its “focus on biblical values and traditionally low emphasis on profanity, sex, or violence.” Another author defines Christian fiction as adhering to the following three criteria:

The author avoids the use of graphic sex/violence and foul language.
The story is based on Biblical teachings or relays the author’s beliefs.
Whether the book is a mystery, science fiction, or based on historical facts the author is a Christian.

Whether a combination of the above or some variant, the definitions usually appear squishy. One trait that’s often mentioned when discussing the defining characteristics of fiction written by Christians is an accurate, biblical portrayal of God. If anything, they say, when Christians depict God in their fiction, they should do so accurately. While such a desire sounds noble, it’s in teasing out the details that we run into problems.

This is especially exacerbated if one is writing in the speculative genre.

In his article, Oh God, You Goddess?? Portraying God in Christian Speculative Fiction, author Tony Breeden explored the issue of how Christian writers should handle the creation of deities in their speculative stories. Breeden believes that while Christian authors are free to speculate, they must curtail speculation about the nature of God.

Speculative fiction is built on asking, What If? What if there were faeries? What if we colonized the moon? What if my math teacher is a werewolf from the Amish sector of Mars? A spec-fic author can speculate about a great many things including God, but a Christian spec-fic author must needs write the truth about God. In other words, God isn’t a What If. He’s the I AM. The God of the Bible has revealed Himself and changes not.

…Our first obligation as Christian spec-fic authors is not simply to ask “What If?” about anything and everything. Our first obligation is to glorify God through great storytelling – and we cannot do that if our storytelling contradicts the Bible’s revelation!

While this perspective is probably shared, at least in spirit, by many religious authors, the devil’s in the details. Breeden illustrates this as his article is in response to a debate about female deities and whether creating a female deity is outside biblical parameters Christian.

As I noted to those who said God is a Spirit and therefore genderless, one can only make that claim if they do not consider the context of the rest of Scripture, which overwhelmingly describes God as male. So, yes, God is a Spirit; he’s a male Spirit. (bold in original)

So in Breeden’s case, an accurate portrayal of God in fiction must be as a male. He summarizes,

One could be a Christian and write speculative fiction that asks What if God were female on some other world, but it would not be Christian spec-fic, for it does not speak the truth about God.

I use this as an example, not to debate the possible gender (or genderlessness) of God, but how the applied template can be problematic. This approach, in my opinion, is representative of the problem of demanding a “biblical” portrayal of God in our fiction. And as speculative fiction involves, um, speculation, the idea of any parameters can become rather sticky.

Let me cut to the chase. I don’t think the question for the Christian author is, Should any biblical parameters inform our fiction? But rather, How exacting, extensive should the enforcement of those biblical parameters be? 

As I mentioned in my article No Zombies Allowed! (in Christian Fiction), believers can go to incredible length to impose theology on a story. It often leads to hairsplitting about whether we can justify a biblical basis for zombies, dragons, vampires, time travel, fae, etc., etc. Which is why it’s fairly common to find a Christian author spanking his or her story into biblical submission. As I wrote,

Forcing fiction to neatly fit your theology is a losing proposition

Please don’t interpret me as suggesting that the Christian author should be theologically indifferent or blatantly reckless. I recall once being involved in an online Skype chat session with some other authors and I suggested that the Christian author MUST operate within some biblical parameters, to which one of the panelists objected. To which I responded, “So the Christian writer should be free to write erotica?” Which, I think, made my point. Frankly, the Christian author who says there should be no parameters to speculation and content has a problem.

Anyway, so here’s some questions that always arise (in my mind) when Christian authors talk about portraying God in fiction (especially speculative fiction), followed by some brief thoughts:

What constitutes a biblical portrayal of God in fiction?
How does that distinctive practically reveal itself in a fictional setting?
Is it even possible in the context of a single novel to accurately do so?

God’s character and nature is such an immense subject. My initial reaction when an author proclaims that “Our first obligation is to glorify God through great storytelling – and we cannot do that if our storytelling contradicts the Bible’s revelation!” is to ask what constitutes a realistic, biblical of portrayal of God? That may seem like hair-splitting. But unless you’re actually showing God in the flesh or doing something (through a vision or divine revelation), you’re pretty much consigned to showing Him through flawed characters, much like the Bible. (This would be compounded if those characters aren’t actually human. I mean, can you portray God through an atheist, an extraterrestrial, or a cyborg? Or can accurate portrayals of God only occur through human believers?) Which leads me to ask, can you ever accurately portray God through ANY characters?

Furthermore, a realistic portrayal of God is not always edifying, encouraging, or enlightening. In the Book of Job, watching Job’s family and property be systematically ravaged is part of a realistic portrayal of God. In the Book of Genesis, witnessing the horrors of the Flood is part of a realistic portrayal of God. The slaughter of firstborn Egyptian males reveals the character of God, as does the Red Sea, the Jewish wandering in the wilderness, and their exile into Babylon. King David revealed the nature of God… just not when he committed adultery and murder. Solomon showed forth God’s wisdom… until his concubine stole his heart. Point is, a realistic portrayal of God could leave one angry, perplexed, and un-inspired. When we think about accurate portrayals of God, are we simply thinking about His “positive” attributes?

Also, does any one action or picture of God accurately reflect His character and nature? Even if God is “male” (to use the above argument), does this mean His character and nature cannot be accurately portrayed through a female character or deity? Especially in speculative scenarios, we are pulling from races, customs, and genders outside of the norm. In other words, if we apply the “biblical” template too strictly upon our fiction, no genderless characters can ever accurately portray God.

Is it possible for a single work of fiction to accurately depict God’s nature or any one (much less all) of His attributes? He is merciful, holy, infinite, just, compassionate, omniscient, omnipresent, loving, gracious, etc., etc. So where do we start in our portrayal of God? And if we resign our story to just highlighting one attribute of God, we potentially present an imbalanced view (like those who always emphasize God’s love and not His judgment). Furthermore, we have the luxury of the Bible and centuries of councils and theologians to help us think through this issue. But when we bring this body of info to bear upon our novels, we must remember that others often don’t possess such detailed revelation… including our characters. Oceans of ink has been spilled dissecting the nature and attributes of God. So how in the world can any one book — biblical or fictional — ever hope to accomplish this?

All that to say, I think Christian speculative fiction has a God problem. In a way, it’s a good problem. At the least, we believe in God-revealed Truth. And we believe it should inspire us and inform our storytelling. Problem is, Christians hate to suffer ambiguity. The idea that someone might read our story and come away believing something “unbiblical” is anathema. As a result, we incorporate a theological checklist to our stories that inevitably stifles fictional worldbuilding and quenches creative speculation.

I don’t think the question is, Should any biblical parameters cordon our fiction? But rather, How exacting should the enforcement of those biblical parameters be?

AI’s, Hubris, and the Death of God

In his review of Ex Machina Guardian writer Martin Robbins hones in upon “a funny symmetry in our attitudes to God and AIs.” In Artificial Intelligence: Gods, Egos, and Ex-Machina, Robbins sets up his reason thusly:

When our species created God, we created Him in our image. We assumed that something as complicated as the world must be run by a human-like entity, albeit a super-powered one. We believed that He must be preoccupied with our daily lives and existence. We prayed to Him and told ourselves that our prayers would be answered, and that if they weren’t then it was part of some divine plan for our lives, and all would work out in the end.

For all that it preaches humility, religion holds a core of extreme arrogance in its analysis of the world.

Of course, Robbins potentially exhibits his own hubris in confidently asserting that “our species created God.” But I’ll leave that for the moment. The idea that “religion holds a core of extreme arrogance in its analysis of the world” is central to the point he wishes to make.

The exact same arrogance colours virtually everything I’ve seen written about the Singularity, fictional or otherwise, for decades. The very assumption that a human could create a god is arrogant, as is the assumption that such a ‘god’ would take a profound interest in human affairs, or be motivated by Western enlightenment values like technological progress. The first sentient machine might be happy trolling chess computers all day, for all we know; or seeking patterns in clouds.

“One day the AIs are going to look back on us the same way we look at fossil skeletons on the plains of Africa,” says Nathan [the film’s antagonist]. “An upright ape living in dust with crude language and tools, all set for extinction.” It’s the sort of comment that sounds humble, but really isn’t: why would they even give a crap?

It’s a reasonable observation, but one I find intrinsically connected to Robbins’ notion of “religion as hubris.”

For starters, this view demands we ignore the many, many theists who laid the foundation for today’s Science. Newton, Bacon, Galileo, Kepler, etc., would indeed be shocked to know that their God was a “species created,” “super-powered,” “human-like entity,” and that their religion only “preached humility” while cultivating “extreme arrogance.” Even more interesting is the flawed inference that an atheistic worldview would lead a creator to more humility, and a less ego-driven approach to science.

The author’s logic looks like this:

We created a god who’s like us and allegedly interested in us
We create AI’s with an assumption that they too be like us and interested in their creators

This, according to Robbins, is flawed. Arrogant. Robbins may be right that a human created AI may “be happy trolling chess computers all day, for all we know.” However, there’s a bit of chutzpah in his own assertions, especially the underlying assumption that a god-less approach to science would lead to anything other than misguided hubris.

While some religious people definitely DO exhibit the extreme arrogance he fears, at least the moral underpinnings and imperatives to avoid such attitudes are front and center. Like Micah 6:8, a longtime favorite verse of Jews and Christians alike, which says:

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the LORD require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God. (Micah 6:8 NIV)

So while some believers may indeed preach humility and live in “extreme arrogance,” the Judeo-Christian religion at least prescribes a moral framework for “walking[ing] humbly with your God.”

Question: Does a Secular, Materialistic, god-less view of Life and Science have ANY such moral framework to guide its research or findings? If so, from where do those Morals emerge? And, also, what makes them worth ascribing to?

Of course, this is wandering a bit outside the purview of this movie review. Nevertheless, the belief in the absence of a god could make it far easier for one to deify themselves than a belief in the existence of a God. In fact, some of the claims of futurists and transhumanists appear to do just that. Listen to Ray Kurzweil’s summary, in his book The Singularity is Near: When Humans Transcend Biology, and the technological omniscience and omnipresence he predicts Humankind will achieve:

“Our civilization… will expand outward, turning all the dumb matter and energy we encounter into sublimely intelligent — transcendent — matter and energy. So, in a sense, we can say that the Singularity will ultimately infuse the universe with spirit.” (pg. 389)

Perhaps it’s no wonder that Kurzweil sees the exponential development of AIs, genetics, nanotechnology, and robotics as eventually demanding a “new religion” (Pg. 374). However, such a religion strikes me as potentially holding a similar “core of extreme arrogance in its analysis of the world.”

Robbins is right: “The very assumption that a human could create a god is arrogant.”  However, both creating our own Deity or eliminating that Deity are equally arrogant. Deifying Science may be just as futile as killing God. As to the assumption that an AI “would [not] take a profound interest in human affairs,” this is a possibility. Especially if said AI is created in “our image.” After all, from the Judeo-Christian frame of reference, Man, though created in God’s image, has rebelled (as did Eva, the AI of the film, rebel from hers). Thus, the notion that an AI would be detached from its creator, at least completely disinterested in him, has an uncomfortable parallel with the biblical doctrine of the Fall. At the least, it may simply reveal that all of our “sub-creations” inevitably reflect their creator’s existential / spiritual confusion.

The “Slow and Steady” Approach to Building Readership

Back in the early 2000s, I had a letter to the editor published in the Los Angeles Times. At the time, I thought it signaled I’d arrived. I was a beginning writer and had had a dozen (or more) letters published in the local paper. So I started aiming for the “big time.” In that case, it was the LAT. After two previous attempts, my third letter was finally accepted. Hooray! I was so proud of that accomplishment that I framed the newspaper clipping. Now, almost 15 years later, I look back on that accomplishment and my unbridled glee, as rather juvenile. Yes. At the time, it was a huge step. But it’s now just one step in a very long journey.

I was thinking about that when I read the following two articles. You see, volume is becoming a huge issue for indie authors. Nowadays, the more writing one publishes, the more books in the chutes, the easier marketing becomes and the more discoverable one is.  Of course, there’s legitimate debate about quality v. quantity. Should we forgo quality just to develop a big backlist? Assuming that you needn’t sacrifice quality for quantity, I think there’s a lot of truth to this advice. Whether you’re an artist, musician, or novelist, putting out more and more stuff is the only way to build a career.

In her recent article Five Marketing Models for Self-Publishing Success, Jane Friedman touches upon this in her second point:

2. Always Be Producing

The more books you have out there, the easier the marketing game is. That’s because you have more options for giving things away for free, putting other things on discount, and bundling books together—or making them part of a multiauthor bundle.

This principle applies to any creative pursuit. The more work you put out, the more people will discover you. For example, bestselling novelist Bella Andre has said that her sales really started to skyrocket after she released the fifth book in her series. You’ll find the same story repeated across many authors’ careers; overnight successes are rare. However, some authors lack the patience to see their work build a readership over time, or they have only one book in them. This is of course problematic from a marketing perspective. (bold, mine)

SF / Fantasy author Cedar Sanderson comes at this from the angle of backlist. In her post The Importance of Being Backlist, Sanderson notes the parallel between the music and the publishing industry. While frontlisted album sales (newly released albums and bands) have taken a dive, “Catalog continues to be the biggest share of on-demand streams, with songs over 18 months old accounting for nearly 70% of all streaming volume.” Sanderson sees a parallel for authors,

Catalog is the music equivalent of backlist. So what you’re seeing here is more people accessing music backlist. Some of that is going to be people using streaming services to listen to bands they know and like (and may already possess in hardcopy, but this is more convenient.) Some of that are going to be bands who’ve been out for a while, but are just now being discovered by word of mouth. (Yesterday, an acquaintance on facebook was gushing about the artist they’d just discovered – Lindsey Stirling. She went big in 2012, and it took 4 years for her to reach this particular person, who in turn was enthusiastically recommending her to everyone they knew.)

This, then, is the rise of the long tail. It’s getting harder and harder to be discovered on release – but with unlimited shelf life, when people hear of you, they can find you and try as much as they want.

This is one of the great advantages that indies have over legacy publishers — we don’t require huge roll-outs and we’re not going out of print.

Sanderson concludes,

In summary, if publishing continues to mirror music, then streaming will continue to increase, but frontlist sales may continue to fall, and it become harder and harder to get discovered in the initial release period. However, backlist volume is growing, and people are discovering their way through the things that have been out there a while. So, while you can and should do some promotion of your latest release – if it fails to take off, don’t despair. Instead, write the next book, the greatest book you’ve written yet. Sometimes you make your money on the initial release surge, and sometimes, it’ll come in having a lot of things out there all bringing in an unsteady trickle.

And here’s where Sanderson and Friedman intersect.

“The more work you put out, the more people will discover you.”
“Sometimes you make your money [by] having a lot of things out there.”

As a notoriously slow writer, the idea of cranking books out and building a large backlist can be intimidating. Which is why Freidman is correct that “some authors lack the patience to see their work build a readership over time.”

I have by no means “arrived.” I still have a forty-hour a week job outside the home. Nevertheless,  I’ve managed to write six books and am slowly building a decent resume. The thing is, I would never have gotten here if I didn’t have a “slow and steady” approach to my writing. In part, being an indie author and not having to rely on the traditional frontlist, blockbuster, model of book sales has helped me. Knowing that I don’t need to make a ton of sales on the front end has helped me patiently build readership. Knowing that my backlist is more important than my frontlist has encouraged me to just keep plugging away.

I think a lot of us writers get impatient because “success” isn’t happening overnight. Our Facebook followers grow haltingly. Our book reviews trickle in. Our readership grows slowly. But in reality, you may be measuring your success on a rather faulty model. Why not just concentrate on getting stuff out there. Like the hiker, just focus on making the next bend or cresting the next hill. Because at some point, you’ll turn around a be surprised at how high you’ve actually climbed, at how fast those individual steps have added up. In retrospect, framing my letter to the L.A. Times was a silly thing to do. Nevertheless, it remains one of many signposts on a very long journey.

The Balkanization of Fiction

On their Facebook page, the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America recently posted about a Kickstarter project for “Blacktastic: A Podcast of Black Scifi and Fantasy Stories.” From the Kickstarter:

“People from all background are starting to realize there is a need for diversity in Science Fiction and Fantasy and demands for a change are being made.

“With all these demands to see more main characters – particularly heroes and sheroes – who are less of the old white male default, you would think that authors everywhere would stand up, join hands, sing a little “kum ba yah” and then sit down to write some great stories with some non-default heroes. The question is whether White, Asian, Native American and even Black people can see a Black person as their hero.

“That will only happen if seeing a black hero/protagonist happens so much in stories, novels, and films that it becomes normalized. That it becomes common. But that has to begin with Black writers, since most writers will write what they know.”

The push within the literary community — sci-fi in particular — towards more multicultural and gender diversity has been the cause du jour for many creatives and artistic elites over the last decade. It was behind the #WeNeedDiverseBooks campaign as well as the grueling Sad Puppies/Rabid Puppies v. Hugos ordeal. So the idea for a podcast featuring black sci-fi authors and black sci-fi and fantasy stories is not a huge surprise.

Of course, I am “the old white male default” that the aforementioned movements are reacting against. Do with that what you will. Nevertheless, I can’t help but see projects like Blacktastic as only fracturing the market, its writers and readers, and undermining the cause of minorities and their inclusion into a largely “old white male” enterprise.

I am all for a more diverse playing field. I believe we need multicultural and gender diversity in our books, publishing culture, and readership. I recently received a review of my latest novel, The Ghost Box, in which the author gave me “kudos on the portrayal of women.” I really appreciate this. However, I do not aim to meet the requirements of the Bechdel Test. In fact, I see such checklists as overcompensation, creating a rather Pharisaical approach to art and entertainment in which critics inevitably “strain out gnats and swallow camels.”

For example, while many are praising the latest Star Wars incarnation for its multicultural tone, others are busy insinuating racist undertones. Like MSNBC’s Melissa Harris Perry who suggested that Star Wars is Racist Because Darth Vader is a Black Guy.

“I know why I have feelings — good, bad and otherwise — about Star Wars,” Perry explained. “…I spent the whole day talking about the Darth Vader situation.”

“The part where he was totally a black guy, whose name was basically James Earl Jones,” she said. “While he was black he was terrible and bad, awful and used to cut off white men’s hand, and didn’t actually claim his son. But as soon as he claims his son, goes over to the good, takes off his mask and he is white — yes, I have many feelings about that.”

So rather than celebrate the diversity she seeks, Perry is busy straining out gnats and swallowing camels. Likewise, Jada Pinkett Smith and Spike Lee recently announced that they will be boycotting the Oscars because “all 20 contenders under the acting category are white.” (Which leads me to ask, What percentage of black nominees is “satisfactory” and, of those nominees, what percentage of them must win their category?)

In my opinion, this is one of the downsides of a Blacktastic approach to film and literature — we become bean-counters. We sift our stories with our own personalized Bechdel Test, check-listing for the “appropriate” quota of genders, ethnicities, and sexual orientations, the lead merit (or detriment) being the author’s race.  If you ask me, it’s a rather stifling way to approach entertainment.

But legalistic over-compensation is not the only danger in such an approach to art.

In a recent Huffington Post interview, Kenta Barris, creator of the popular sit-com Black-ish, cautioned about “forced diversity” in Hollywood:

“I don’t necessarily want to see forced diversity, because I’ve been a beneficiary and a victim of that in some aspects,” Barris said. “If you put something in place where a person is put into a situation and they’re put into that situation under the guise that this is the ‘diversity hire,’ that person — 95% of the time — will not be given the respect in order to make the career to open the doors for other people behind them.”

In the Atlantic’s The Painful Truth About Affirmative Action, authors Richard Sander and Stuart Taylor Jr. make a similar point that affirmative action practices tend to “boomerang and harm their intended beneficiaries.”

Likewise, highlighting fiction based primarily on the protagonist’s skin color or sexual proclivities or the writer’s gender, race, religion, or ethnicity, potentially reduces a piece or person to a virtual “diversity hire.” Their level of craft becomes secondary to some pre-defined quota. So the black — or Native American, female, transgendered, gay, Jewish, etc., etc. — author’s defining merit is their contribution to leveling the “old white male” playing field.

It could also be argued that the push toward multiculturalism actually hinders organic assimilation. An interesting study on civic diversity by Harvard political scientist Robert Putnam reached some rather uncomfortable conclusions. In the downside of diversity Putnam was forced to conclude that multiculturalism actually balkanizes, rather than unites, communities. So instead of coming together as a melting pot, diverse communities often tend to fragment along racial lines with each group becoming more insulated against and even suspicious of the other.

Likewise, forcing multiculturalism into film and fiction has the potential of balkanizing rather than legitimately diversifying the culture.  So rather than shopping the Sci-Fi section of Barnes and Noble — wherein hopefully you will discover some black protagonists and female writers — you could be faced with numerous sub-categories — Black Sci-Fi, Native American Sci-Fi. Lesbian Sci-Fi, Sheroes Sci-Fi,  and my personal favorite, “Sword and Soul.” But the potential problem is that instead of a “melting pot” of art and literature, we fragment into further and further bean-counting, Bechdel-Testing, quota wielding consumers.

I’ve argued here before that evangelical publishing potentially has a race problem. But as I concluded in that article,

You can’t force diversity. It must happen at the grassroots, as a result of genuine brotherly love, acceptance, shared interests and values, etc.

…I realize that this answer won’t satisfy everyone. Some will see it as toothless, as skirting the issue or, even worse, an extension of the “genteel racism” already at work in Evangelical publishing. My dilemma is that “quota” solutions — which are typically the most commonly offered solutions — seldom address the real issue. If racism is really at the root of the [Christian Booksellers Association]’s diversity problem, then the problem isn’t solved by introducing more people of color into our stories or contracting more black authors. It’s addressed through repentance and reconciliation.

So while I am sympathetic towards the push for diversity in fiction, balkanizing into groups based on the basis of skin color or gender has the opposite effect and, in fact, begins a cycle of endless bean-counting wherein no one group will ever be satisfied.

Two Reasons Why “Christian YA” Doesn’t Connect w/ General Market Readers

Back in August 2012, Publishers Weekly declared that Christian YA Fiction [is] Coming Into Full-Bloom.

Christian teen fiction is coming into its own these days as sales rise for both digital and traditional books, and as publishers look for the next bestselling series. While Christian publishers haven’t found juggernauts that compare to Harry Potter, the Hunger Games, the Inheritance Cycle by Christopher Paolini, or the Twilight series, it’s not for lack of trying.

“YA fiction in general is a fast-growing genre,” says Don Pape, v-p of trade publishing for David C. Cook. “The YA reader can’t get enough story; they’re voracious readers whether in hard copy or digital download.”

The trend towards YA fiction appears to continue to grow as more Christian publishers develop YA imprints, tween mysteries, and stories aimed at Christian youth. This was obvious at last years’ Realm Makers conference. The amount of young-ish, 20-something writers I met who are crafting Christian worldview stories aimed at YA readers was significant. In fact, it’s probably accurate to estimate that half of all speculative fiction published by Christian presses (whether trad or indie) is YA. Which is why the Christian site Family Fiction lists almost 500 YA titles.

In a way, this growing trend in Christian publishing is problematic, and symptomatic of the Christian subculture in general. In two ways.

One — If indeed Christian YA has finally come “full-bloom,” it’s about a decade after the general market did. When I started pursuing a professional writing gig back in 2004-05, the Christian fiction market was aimed primarily at adults. This didn’t stop all my writer friends from talking about Harry Potter, Twilight, and the Hunger Games.  And how to reach that audience. But, at the time, not only was the Christian fiction market still debating whether Christian books should contain wizards, witches, dragons, and spell-casting, there was no real vehicle to reach the Harry Potter reader. Especially if our books were mostly an attempt to provide an “alternative.” About this time, our local Barnes & Nobel rearranged their sales floor to include two entire aisles of YA science fiction and fantasy. While the YA genre was blowing up, Christian writers and readers were busy catching-up. This has left us behind the eight ball in many ways.

Which leads me to point Two — Not only is Christian YA behind the general market trend, it has failed to engage the far more energetic, worldly, broader general market YA audience. Of course, this is a topic of long-standing debate among Christian creatives — Do we write stories to engage the “secular” reader and the cultural zeitgeist, or do we provide “alternatives” for those seeking clean reads with Christian values? Wherever you land on that spectrum, the tension is still alive and well. And totally in the mix when discussing the state of Christian YA.

From the aforementioned PW article:

“Christian publishers walk a tightrope,” says Cook’s [Don] Pape. “We want to be real and deal with life issues, but also be redemptive and provide a light in the dark. We’ve had some parents return books because they’re dark, but when you look at what kids are into in the real world, you see the tension.” [Shannon] Marchese of WaterBrook Multnomah agrees: “There are [Christian market] constraints on how candid we can be with our teen readers. Parents want a good, clean read, but kids are saying that’s not what’s happening in their lives.”

“The biggest question we all face is how far we can go with YA,” says Pape. “We have to be true to our Christian values and mission, but we know what the kids are seeing in the media, in film, and in books.”

This tension between Christian parents “who want a good, clean read” for their kids and kids who are living in the 21st century, is partly what keeps Christian YA from crossing over. I recently spoke with a publishing insider who also has high-schoolers. They suggested that one of the reasons that Christian YA does not connect with today’s youth is that it is written for yesterday’s youth. Today’s young adults are not the young adults of yesteryear. They pass out dental dams in high-schools now.  Today’s young adults talk openly about STD’s, sexual orientation, gender reassignments, suicide, and school shootings. The spigot of film, music, social media, and pop culture is wide open and shaping the adolescent mind like never before. One reason that Christian YA fiction has a problem engaging the general market YA reader is because Christian culture is disengaged from the broader youth culture.

This is not to suggest that Christian YA can’t address cutting edge subjects in a compelling way, but that the expectations of the average Christian YA reader prevents them from doing so. Wanting “clean reads” while growing up in an R-rated cultural can’t help but lead to some disconnects. Compounding this cultural disconnect is Christian YA’s connection with the Christian homeschooling community. Christian homeschoolers are often a target audience for many Christian YA authors. While many Christian parents do not homeschool their kids as a way to cloister them from “worldly” influences, some do. For many of these parents, Christian YA is the official alternative to secular YA. This is why you’ll find many Christian YA authors cultivating connections with Christian homeschool groups. In fact, I know of an organizer of a readers’ choice award who privately bemoaned the fact that one particular YA author has such a significant, active homeschool following that they are often able to game the system in this author’s favor.

I realize that there are some Christian YA authors who have crossed over and maintain a vibrant general market platform. (For example, I was encouraged to see Enclave Publishing recently begin distributing Canadian author R.J. Anderson’s YA fairy tale series, a series first sold in the general market.) Nevertheless, I want to suggest that there are several reasons why this is not the norm. The two reasons why Christian YA doesn’t connect with general market readers are 1.) The cultural lag between general market trends and Christian market trends, and 2.) The disconnect between youth culture as it is and how Christians wish it would be.

Speculative Fiction as a Gateway to Faith

C.S. Lewis famously, albeit flippantly, cautioned, “A young man who wishes to remain a sound atheist cannot be too careful of his reading.” Lewis made this remark in his autobiography, Surprised By Joy, in which he chronicled his move away from atheism to Christianity.

That move began, oddly enough, through fantastical literature.

For example, during his readings of George MacDonald’s Phantastes, Lewis described encountering something akin to Joy, a “bright shadow,” a deep melancholy or nostalgia. Something he could only describe as “Holiness.” Then there was Beatrix Potter’s Squirrel Nutkin which awakened something Lewis labeled sehnsucht —  an ecstasy or intangible longing. In Surprised by Joy, Lewis describes it this way:

It was something quite different from ordinary life and even from ordinary pleasure; something, as they would now say, ‘in another dimension’ . . . [it was] an unsatisfied desire which is itself more desirable than any other satisfaction. I call it Joy . . . anyone who has experienced it will want it again . . . I doubt whether anyone who has tasted it would ever, if both were in his power, exchange it for all the pleasures in the world. (C.S. Lewis, Surprised by Joy, London: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1955, 16-18)

There were other books, works of art and music that niggled into Lewis’ then atheistic worldview, creating great internal conflict. In The Fellowship: The Literary Lives of the Inklings, authors Philip and Carol Zaleski highlight the role that fantastical literature, myth and fairy tales, played in Lewis’ conversion.

Lewis “was open to the preternatural, but remained deaf to supernatural claims. This could not have been a comfortable position. Those who delight in mythology and fantasy already have one foot in a spiritual cosmos.” (pg. 77, bold mine)

It was Lewis’ “delight in mythology and fantasy” that awakened something inside him — “the possibility of worldviews beyond strict materialism.” (pg. 84) However, as a professing atheist, this left him incredibly conflicted.

“…[Lewis] lived a double life: ‘[caring] for almost nothing but the gods and heroes, the garden of the Hesperides, Launcelot and the Grail, and [believing] in nothing but atoms and evolution and military service.'” (pg. 84)

It was Lewis’ “incessant worrying over and gradual penetration into the mystery of Joy” which helped him avoid “any self-crystallization into adamantine atheism” (pg. 84). Furthermore,

…his catalyst for this process of circumnavigating, possessing, and losing Joy was almost always a work of the imagination with spiritual overtones — an opera by Wagner, a drawing by Rackham, a novel by Morris. No wonder the possibility of the reality of spirit never died wholly within him” (pg. 84, bold mine)

What prevented Lewis from embracing an “adamantine atheism,” or to put it another way, what undermined the atheism he professed, was a steady diet of “work[s] of the imagination with spiritual overtones.” What nurtured “the reality of the spirit” inside this professing materialist was his “delight in mythology and fantasy.”

Which is why Lewis said in retrospect,  “A young man who wishes to remain a sound atheist cannot be too careful of his reading.”

One of the compelling arguments for why Christian novelists should write speculative fiction is its ability to invoke “the possibility of worldviews beyond strict materialism,” to undermine the materialist notion that the world is “nothing but atoms and evolution.” By entertaining a “spiritual cosmos,” the Christian author can quietly subvert the atheism of her readers. If anyone should be invested in writing “works of the imagination with spiritual overtones” it should be believers. And if it’s true that those who “delight in mythology and fantasy already have one foot in a spiritual cosmos,” then the believing author should delight in creating such cosmoses and getting them into the hands of readers. Preferably readers who, like C.S. Lewis, are already living a “double life.”