on writing (V)

It's been close to two months since any "writing updates." Things have been busy and chaotic, and I've been feeling quite uninspired in regards to zombies as of late. One might begin fearing that I'm outgrowing them, but rest assured, that's certainly not the case. Honestly my mind has been elsewhere as of late, getting wrapped up in things too high and lofty for a foolish and bumbling creature like me. But sometimes there are more pressing concerns than writing about zombies, no matter how much I may like doing so, and these other pressing concerns (which will be cropping up on this blog soon) deserve my energies far more than a little fictional self-indulgence. Nevertheless, I have been working on my zombie serial in spurts here-&-there, and because I missed church with Brandy and Amos this morning, I had time to finish Act III. 

In regards to Act III, I'm decently content with it as a whole. I feel much better about it than I did with Act II, and I think many of the strengths of Act I--which, in my opinion, vaults it above Act II--are present in Act III. While Act II did have some "action," most of it was the necessary setting-up for a serial novel of this magnitude. With the foundation set, in Act III I launched into the main character's first real zombie encounter, and it's some pretty intense stuff. I'm going to *hopefully* have Ams read over it soon, giving me her criticisms and advice, and then I'll do for Act III what I did with the first two acts: revise, revise, revise. Once Act III is complete, I'm just a few steps from finishing the first book. It'll be exciting when that time comes, and I'm sure I'll find an apt way to celebrate (and if I can't, Andy is always good with such figuring out how to celebrate random and inconsequential things). Now, in regards to writing, here's an email I received not five minutes ago:

Hello Anthony. I read 36 Hours and it was the most gripping book I have read. It knocks the socks off Stephen King and other famous horror writers. George A. Romero would have a field day turning this book into a film.

Receiving these emails are always encouraging, especially when I'm feeling that my writing is quite sub-par. I remember going through 36 Hours and revising it top-to-bottom, wondering if there was really any point to it, thinking that it may be too late to draw from the wreckage of the original something worth acknowledging. I've gotten many emails from  people who have read 36 Hours: The 2nd Edition, and the consensus seems to be the same: people are blown. ("Forgot to say away again...") He goes on to say:

The only part I found confusing was in the chapter '10 AM'. Mark, Austin and Hannah are going down the subway and Mark gets shot by a soldier and dies. In the next chapter, '11 AM', he is still alive. No worries, it doesn't detract from the fact its one of my top all time great books. - Trevor from the United Kingdom

Regarding the mistake: damn it. 
I always do my best to find every single one before going public.
Sometimes you miss stuff. This is why I have Ams read my stuff now.

on writing (IV)

Amanda as a zombie!

My creative prowess comes and goes in spurts. I would liken it metaphorically to the ebb and flow of the tides, but tides themselves can be measured, and the spurts in my creative energies can neither be charted nor anticipated. Let me put it like this: for almost all of December, I haven't touched my zombie serial novel. And then in the past two days, I've written sixty pages. When the switch is turned "ON" I can't stop writing, can't keep my hands from the keyboard. Hours and hours will be spent doing nothing but writing, smoking my pipe in moments of anxiety, and I become completely consumed in this other world. When the switch is turned "OFF", I prefer focusing on more educational and educational projects (like my 1 Peter commentary "thingie", dubbed as such because while it's not a commentary, it's also not a devotional, or bible study, or anything like that: it's the blending of all sorts of things into a sort of compendium of sorts on 1 Peter; but enough about that). The point of all this is that I've been advancing in the zombie story, and I'm liking what I've got so far.

Act II? It's a little shaky at times. Ams has read through most of it so far, and her critiques and concerns largely drive the shape of the story. Some people will tell you that changing up the story in lieu of one person's critiques is a bad idea, and it is. But I respect my sister, she reads a similar style of literature, and she much prefers story-driven tales than character-driven ones. That last part's important, because I want this story to be story-driven rather than character-driven (as you find, for example, in "Dwellers of the Night"; which you can't actually find, because I've discontinued it for a while now). Her critiques have helped shape the work for the better, and if I thought otherwise, I'd stop asking for her input. I'm pretty sure that when it becomes available to the public, she's gonna get one helluva shout-out, probably recognition as partaking in the evolution of the story. That'll be cool. All this aside, she likes Act I more than Act II, and while she couldn't really give me a reason why, my own analysis of the two acts shows what, I think, that reason is: it's a matter of narration.

Act I takes place over a series of a couple days, and Act II takes place over a couple months. The narrative style of Act I (which is about the same length as Act II) is, as I prefer, far more detailed and congruous than Act II. Because it happens in such a short amount of time, I was able to go into as much detail as I wanted without worry about taking up too much room; in Act II, which had so many more different scenes than Act I, I couldn't delve into as much detail or it'd run an extra 50-60 pages, and that wouldn't be cool. Act I is more congruous simply because all the scenes are interconnected over a series of days; Act II is written in an almost kaleidoscopic-snapshot feel, a series of short-&-sweet vignettes. At the foundation of it all, however, is the fact that Act I is more story-driven, because Act II is more about bringing to light the various characters and subplots to be extrapolated in the further acts. Act III is back to the story-driven mode, and I'm so excited about it so far, and anxious to hear what Amanda thinks. I really think she'll like it as much as she liked Act I, if not more. Honestly, I'd love to go back to Act II and fine-tune it for the ninth time; but I can be a narcissistic perfectionist when it comes to writing, and I'll get stuck in a rut and never get out. One of the prime lessons any seasoned writer will tell you is that becoming bogged down in editing and revisions is one of the worst possible things you can do; you'll become consumed by the process, often losing sight of the over-arching story, and the end result is a spiraling story going nowhere. I've forced myself to accept Act II as is and go on to Act III, and I'm thankful I've made that move: I'm trying to get 6-12 books out of this thing, I can't spend half a year on a third of the first one.

One other "writing update": when it comes to the plot-line of the story, while I know most of its skeletal structure, I'm really wrestling with what to do at the end of Act III. The original plan was to not even have the first major zombie outbreak happening until sometime in Act III of the second book (around 450 pages into the story as a whole), because there were lots of things I wanted to do between then and there both to shape the story and open a window to a different perspective than most zombie literature. The end result would be hardly any real zombie action for the first two books, and I don't want readers getting tired of not seeing any zombies in a zombie apocalyptic (I'm hearing Jeff Goldblum's echo: "So, are there are dinosaurs in this, uh, dinosaur park?"). Coupled with all this, the reality is that I can't wait (quite literally) to get into the meat of this zombie story. I want to get to that part of the story, and my blood boils in my anticipation. Through this wrestling, I've been considering revamping the plot, accelerating the zombie outbreak and then opening that different-perspective window in the sixth or seventh book. This would change a lot I've planned out, but it may be a wiser (and more fun) choice overall. 

Rob just made a chemex of some Ethiopian Sidamo, and it's one of the best Sidamo coffees I've ever had. Fruity without an overpowering citrus. I'm on a tight schedule, so I'm not going to look over what I wrote, scanning for grammatical errors and the like. If you find some (and I'm sure you can), just get over it: I'm human, just like you, and pretty stupid most of the time. 

Oh: and Merry Christmas Eve.

on writing (III)

A squirrel with a bazooka.
Though I'm  honestly concerned that this is not
an actual squirrel, but I care too little to check.
I'm thinking gopher?

Progress on my zombie serial novel is coming along well. The past two weeks have been spent (at least in regards to writing) revising and reshaping Act 2 (and tweaking Act 1 here-and-there). I put the bulk of the story in past tense, and already I'm seeing the benefits: it's quite easy to deal with the passage of time, to telescopically zoom out on events, and it keeps the story moving quickly. Contrary to popular belief, writing something in present-tense doesn't automatically make the story move quicker; the speed of the story has more to do with style than anything, making the text simple enough to carry the reader forward (something Hemingway knew quite well), and sometimes present-tense narrative can distract the reader from the story, since the reader's found himself burdened by a new style. I've also sought to make the story more story-driven than character-driven, and have added lots of material (and cut lots of material) to try and move towards that end. I'm content with where I'm at in the zombie story right now, and I'm anticipating having the first book done maybe by the end of next month. 

I was telling my pal Andy just the other day how I'm not sure how it'll be received; the other two zombie stories I wrote ("36 Hours" in 2004, redone in late 2009, and the "Dwellers of the Night" trilogy completed in spring of 2009) did remarkably well, the first gaining points for its story-driven plot and the second gaining points for its character-driven plot. One "Best of" list for post-apocalyptic fiction ranked the first alongside Stephen King's "The Stand" and Cormac McCarthy's "The Road". Point of all this being, I know that my readers will be probably be expecting something along the lines of both where the impending crisis happened immediately, at the off-set at the book, but with this serial novel, things are gradual, and there's only one real "zombie encounter" in the first 300+ page novel. But that's okay, because I wanted to do it this way, and perhaps one day I'll let you know why.

on writing (II)

As could have been suspected, I haven't yet written the last two chapters of Act 2. Ams read through Act 2 with quite a few pointers; she liked it, but she agreed with me that there were areas of concern. I'd already had these areas of concern written down, and Amanda basically confirmed my suspicions. In light of this I've been doing a lot of thinking regarding the style of the story, wrestling with different things like present-tense story-telling versus past-tense; story-driven plots versus character-driven ones; the nature of the three-act story having to be tweaked in light of the nature of serial novels. Lots and lots of thinking, lots and lots of note-taking, lots and lots of purveying different pieces of literature (both mine and not mine) in the attempt to piece together the best possible route for this sort of story. These are things that always need to be taken into consideration, and as the scope of this multi-volume project becomes evident in my mind's eye, I'm thinking the original route--something akin to Chuck Paluhniuk's mode-of-writing--should be discarded. At this point I'm thinking about doing what I did with the 2010 remake of "36 Hours" (a remake which has done surprisingly well, *almost* redeeming the success of the original). 

Being a fan of paradoxes, the question "Past tense or present tense?" can be answered, "Both." Likewise, the question of "story-" or "character-driven" storytelling can be answered, "Both." How so? It looks something like this: not one but two story-lines, one focused on the past and one centered in the present. The difference in narrative style between the two helps to both feed and differentiate the different story-lines. The past story-line is, specifically, the story of the zombie pandemic of 2011-2015 (I literally just now came up with those dates; they'll probably be tweaked). The present story-line is the main character's reflections on those events in a different time and place where all this has become integrated into the national psyche. 

The Zombie Pandemic: A History. The bulk of the story will be focused on the actual pandemic. Each novella's broken into three acts, each of which fits into a chronological retelling of the story, each act with its own over-arching and embedded story-lines. The technical details involve past-tense story-telling, a cleaner and more precise prose, story-driven rather than character-driven. The biggest conflicts aren't those things raging in the main character's head but those raging in the world outside him. While not a total tossing-out-the-window of characterization, the focus is shifted from the character's interpretation of the world to the character's activities within that world. This might be the best fit for this part of the book for several reasons: quicker, more fast-paced story-telling that's action-oriented and descriptive rather than reflective and contemplative. This "reflective" story-telling can become a trend for a person like me, slowing down the story in a literary morass of psycho-babble and incoherent contemplations spreading eight pages (something I'm guilty of doing; I need to save that shit for the blog). With this mode of story-telling, I'm freed from that burden and able to steer around it, keeping the action chugging along rather than becoming a muddled mess. And, ultimately, focusing the attention on story developments rather than character developments would be a good maneuver. It's like that cryptic rule: "Know your audience." And let's be honest: most people who like reading zombie stories are the sort who want a good zombie story, not an analysis of the character in the midst of it. This doesn't mean the character will be dry and static but that, within the actual story, the over-arching focus isn't on that. 

Fifteen Years Later (Give or Take). The present-tense story-line will be the place where I can divulge my little fits of fancy when it comes to reflecting on the cognitive responses to a zombie pandemic and the manner in which that affects our worldview and, thus, our modus vivendi (manner of living). This is, honestly, the most fascinating thing about a hypothetical wide-spread zombie outbreak. The tale of the pandemic, told in past-tense, will be from the main character's perspective as he looks back on those events and goes through them, digging through the horrors of his past to try and find some sort of meaning in them for the present. It is, essentially, what we do all the time without knowing it. The technicalities of this part of the story are that it's told present-tense, with much more reflection on the events and how they've affected the main character as well as his world, and this is character-driven rather than story-driven. 

I came up with this technique of two plot-lines (and by "coming up with it" I mean thought of it; I'm sure it's been done before) a few years ago, and I found that it worked amazingly well with the "36 Hours" remake. The remake's success, coupled with readers emailing me about the style, has reinforced my conviction that such a two-pronged plot-line can be successful so long as the two story-lines remain integrated. What this means is that the present story-line isn't some shot out of the dark but the direct and natural result of the events which transpire in the zombie pandemic. Everything in the present-tense story-line must be in harmony with what's come before; and not only that, but the present-tense reflections on the events must be evident in the events themselves, so that continuity is achieved. It's a pretty big bear to wrestle, but it's like Rob Hoos, in that it's a good bear to wrestle, and even when you've been defeated, there's sort of a victory there (if only because you got to wrestle with Rob Hoos). All this is tentative in the sense that I haven't yet fully decided on a route to go with the story (in the sense of its literary style), but I'm going to play around with it for a bit and see how I feel (and what others think). 

on writing

Writing a story is always invigorating, but it's really not as easy as people think, especially when you know your story, if followed through, will span somewhere around 3000 pages. Half the bear is character development and plotting; and once you get that somewhat figured out, you've still got to actually write it and write it well. The last couple weeks have been spent writing and rewriting, adding and deleting. I wrote 150 pages, winnowed it down to 100, and then wrote another 50 pages (which I'm actually mostly content with). The story is, on the surface, about zombies; but, delving deeper into the characters, the whole zombie thing almost becomes peripheral to the "real issues" at stake here. The story's not so much about zombies as it is about the characters, and even more-so, it's not about the characters (plural) as it is about the main character (singular), and the way that his perception of the world is inevitably changed by the events and how this works itself out in his life. Not surprisingly, the tension between Cynicism & Hope isn't untouched. At this point in my life, such tension will sprinkle, if not douse, anything I write. 

When I wrote the first act months and months ago, I didn't like the main character. I didn't like the way he operated, I didn't like his worldview, I didn't like who he was. And, really, that's a success for me: I constructed him in such a way that he's a complete dick, a manipulative asshole, a guy who uses and wants to be used by girls. It felt so surface-level, like a cardboard character, and I knew I couldn't keep running with him as is because, to put it quite simply, I didn't like writing a first-person narration from the point-of-view of a douche bag. So I scratched it all, completely deleted it, and then regretted it. Why?

(1) The character was well-done. The fact that I hated him is a testament not only to how we're total opposites when it comes to these things but also a testament to how well I portrayed him as he is. Part of creating characters--and, hell, writing in general--is not being afraid of the tough stuff, not shying away from a character simply because the character's modus operandi makes you sick to your stomach. The reality is that people are like this character. 

(2) Characters are never--or, in my opinion, shouldn't be--static. Characters must continue changing, evolving, adapting, reacting to the circumstances as the circumstances influence their worldviews. And when we're talking about something as worldview-shifting as a zombie pandemic, there's a lot of room for character development. I found the document in my email (when I had formerly sent it to myself) and looked through it all again, realizing that with the advent of zombies, the potential for radical character-development in so many different directions skyrocketed with this character. 

(3) On top of that, I knew it'd be fun to figure out why the character is the way he is and utilize that in the story. There's always more to why we are the way we are, and even douche bags can have pretty damned good stories. Most people who are jerks weren't born that way; they became that way because of something, and exploring these things and fleshing them out in the story offers not just future character development but also a past-tense character development that, like we find in real life, influences and affects the way the character swallows all that's happening and let's that change him. 

So I've re:opened the document and continued the story. Of course I went back through the document and tweaked it significantly in light of the direction I want to take the character, but most of the things that made me uncomfortable are kept intact. Fifty pages later, I've enjoyed taking these bits and pieces of the character and investigating them fuller. Reading Act I, we come out of it with a certain preconception of the character's nature. And then, in Act 2, we begin seeing that things aren't always as they seem, and though we hate this character, we can understand why he is the way he is, and even sympathize with him. I like the idea that the protagonists are never completely good and the antagonists are never completely evil (just like life), and I've really been enjoying redoing the story and fleshing-out this character. I think it's going somewhere good, but we'll see.

Of course, as an addendum, there's fear, and let me tell you why: when we pick up a novel from the library or buy a book from the bookstore, and when we get lost in it, we don't let the story--which is fiction--affect our perception of the author. We're not reading the story wondering what this tells us (or doesn't tell us) about who wrote it. We simply enjoy the story. But when we read a story that someone we know writes, without even realizing it, we let the story affect our perception of the writer. We make judgments about the author based upon the story, as if we've forgotten that it's fiction. This is why, for instance, Stephen King never let his kids read anything he wrote until they were much older: he knew that, because he was their dad, they'd start making judgments about him based on his stories. Because this story is told first-person, people who know me can very easily read it and start making judgments, and that's something that scares me. But the number one rule in writing is to "not worry what mother thinks" (i.e. don't let your writing be dictated by what you want, or don't want, your friends to think about you). So though I'm plunging forward with this character, there's a bit of trepidation thrown in there: I don't want people reading this story and then thinking I'm actually the main character, and that it's a sort of autobiography. 


A risk? Definitely. 
A worthwhile risk? For this story, yes (I hope).

re:framing repentance, part III

"Prepare to be depressed." Chapter Ten is all about the consequences of repentance, events which can be experienced for those who repent and for those who don't repent. I started off the chapter looking at the temporal and eschatological consequences for those who repent. Whenever I write or think or teach about such things, it is exciting and very hope-filled. I am happier, more outgoing, more energetic. Now that I've finished looking at those things, I am now turning my attention upon the consequences--temporal and eschatological--for those who do not repent. Whenever I write/think/teach about such things, the intensified feeling of being alive found in looking at the Christian hope becomes a dark depression of sorts. It's very gloom and doom, and there's no way around that. Even though I am more "liberal" than some when it comes to the subject--not to the point of being a universalist, mind you, nor even, perhaps, an inclusivist--I take very seriously what the scriptures teach regarding the consequences of not turning to God. It's very sad and hopeless, and it depresses me. I don't like to think about such things, but it is my responsibility as a Christian, and as the writer of this book on repentance, to tackle these things head-on and lay them out on the table. I'm not looking forward to it, and I hope to have it done by the end of the week. Then I can move on to "fresher" territory.

Other goals for this week? Finish N.T. Wright's "Climax of the Covenant" and be at 135 pounds by Friday (which will be exactly one year since I started losing weight). Amanda is in town, albeit currently sleeping. Dylan and Tyler are coming over this afternoon. I had Chipotle for breakfast--very good, as always--while watching "Law & Order: S.V.U." I even went to work for a bit and had four shots of espresso over ice. The perfect start to my day off work. Now I'm going to do some reading, maybe some writing, clean the house a bit. It's a beautiful Sunday, it's my day off work, and I want to sap it for all it's worth. Tomorrow my week begins again with a 6-2:30 shift.

an excerpt

Repentance, faith, baptism—all of this leads to a renewed relationship with God. It is an act of God, a declarative speech-act, that transfers us from one end of the spectrum to the other. It is the speech-act that bridges the metaphorical chasm; it is the speech-act that takes Genesis 3 and kicks it out the window. Those who were once disallowed from entering the Throne Room of God can now, thanks to salvation and justification, enter boldly and speak with their King. Those who were banished outside the city walls of Zion are now in Zion and can walk the streets, celebrating and dancing and laughing and drinking. Sadly, thanks to the guilt-complexes dispelled by our culture, most Christians, while acknowledging in theory that they now have access to the Throne Room and are now inside the city, don’t actually appropriate it for themselves. They’ll stand in the corner of the Throne Room, or cower in the farthest corner of the city, curling into a little ball. The knowledge that we “stumble in many ways” (as St. James puts it) keeps us, psychologically, from embracing the reality that has befallen us: forgiveness has taken place; justification has taken place; we are in a new and right standing with God. Knowledge of our sins should invoke humility; but humility should not be equated with cowardice. 

That excerpt is from page 178 of my book on repentance. It's prefaced by a short survey of justification, and it's all about the event of our status before God being changed. I decided to post it up here because I find it ironic that those things I write which I hope to eventually have an affect on readers often have an affect on me. Like this here. "Sadly... most Christians... don't actually appropriate [this] for themselves." I would have to say, with equal sadness, that I often fall into that group. There are guilt-complexes that I am constantly at war with, seeking to crucify in thought and deed and sometimes failing miserably. I do sin, we all do. And every night when I look over my day, I find myself again confronted with my sin. And I feel awful about it, genuinely remorseful. And this "feeling" hinders my prayers. I don't stand boldly in the throne room, I don't leap and dance and drink in the city of God. I know, theologically, that I have entered the throne room, that I have come to Mt. Zion; it's nothing of my own doing, but the doing of God. And while I know this this theologically, I don't know it--in the intimate sense--pragmatically. *sigh* It's not like a switch can be thrown. I must continue pursuing the renewing of my mind through the scriptures and through prayer and by the power of the Spirit. 

pumpkin spice, sushi, and repentance

At work I experimented with making some espresso cocktails, and I really found a winner: short pumpkin spice latte with one pack raw sugar, whipped cream with caramel drizzle and topped with cinnamon dolce and pumpkin spice sprinkles. It's pretty amazing. I'll probably be drinking one every day after work. In other news, I've decided to stop trying to "lose weight." Instead I'm just going to try and "bulk up." Yesterday I did 50 extended push-ups and my chest is killing me today. Today's workout involves 100 arm curls. I'm most concerned about my abs, chest, and arms; though because of the pudge that will never go away (even underweight I had pudge on my tummy), my abs aren't a big concern--you'd never be able to see them. Amanda was in town last night and she came by work this morning and she smoked a cigarette with me on my last ten-minute break, and she said she's going to the Cincinnati Halloween party dressed up like me, and I'm going to go as a turtle--as long as I don't work that evening. We'll see if I can work it out.

Dewenter will be here in a little bit. We're going to grill some chicken and I'm going to bake some potatoes. It'll be amazing. Tomorrow I am joining Carly and Jessica C. from work and we're going to grab some sushi from some sushi restaurant in Kettering(?). I love sushi and can't wait, and Carly and Jessica are really cool, so that's a plus, too.

I finished Chapter IX of "Re:framing Repentance." It's all about faith and how to understand (a) what it is and (b) why it's what God desires/demands of us. It's one of the longest chapters in the second third of the book--it's about twenty pages--but it's well-worth the space. I've defined faith in Jesus Christ as loyalty to Jesus Christ. This fits in with what "loving God" is all about--devotion/commitment/loyalty to him--and it also flows perfectly with repentance, which--as I define it--is the decision to turn from self-loyalty to loyalty to God/Jesus. Most other readings regarding the relationship between Faith and Repentance are pretty jagged; that is, it becomes a technical rock concert where it's hard to ascertain how the two fit together. This understanding of repentance and faith--and how they interconnect--is, I think, true to the biblical writings and the major themes of the New Testament. So much regarding Christianity, the Christian life, and the eschatological future and how it is tied in with faith & repentance is freed from the ambiguity inherent in understandings of faith/repentance which harp upon certain aspects, superimposing these aspects above all the rest, without seeking to synthesize the aspects within a broader paradigm. Bah I'm getting tired of writing about it all. I'm excited about the next chapter, though: "The Consequences of Repentance." Here's a picture I took while suffering the aftershocks of Chipotle after work:

re:framing repentance, part II

I'm close to halfway done with my book on repentance. The latest chapter, "Repentance & Loving God," is essentially an old essay I wrote several months ago re:worked around the theme of repentance. In it I show how "loving God" can be equated with being devoted to God. At the end of the chapter, I expound upon how I have defined repentance in the book and how I currently perceive it. Here's my "definition" of repentance in the religious sense:

1. Repentance is the decision of the heart/mind (i.e. the will) to "turn from idols" (devotion to those things, including our own selves, which are not God) and to "turn to God" (to put our devotion upon God and, consequently, his kingdom).
2. "Devotion to God" can be called the Christian--or even, dare we say it, all humanity's--vocation. Lying within the primal fault of mankind in the Garden of Eden, and stretching out in a variety of ways throughout human history, is the antithesis to devotion to God: devotion to idols, the least of which is not our own selves. The greatest commandment--"Love God"--is fleshed-out in the New Testament as being synonymous with being devoted to God.
3. Devotion to God (or loving God) means to be loyal to God, committed to God, to have sworn allegiance to God (who was revealed supremely through Messiah Jesus). This is the heart of what God desires of people and what, at the same time, he demands of them: their loyalty, allegiance, commitment, devotion; yes, their love.
4. Repentance--the decision to turn from self-love/devotion to loving God/being devoted to him--is the opposite of what has taken place throughout a person's life. Real turning of the heart/mind/will is involved. It isn't about feeling guilty, feeling sorry, or apologizing. It's about making a rock-solid decision to turn one's back on the previous manner of living and embracing a new manner of living; it is going from living to please the self, to serve the self, to worship the self to living to please God, to serve God, to worship God as Creator rather than worshiping the creation.
5. Obedience is not the same thing as repentance, just as it is not the same thing as loving God/being devoted to him. Repentance is the decision to devote oneself to God. Devotion to God, when genuine, shows itself in obedience. Thus, it can be said, obedience lies within the realm of "the fruit of repentance." 

You may have noticed that I didn't mention faith once. The next chapter is all about faith and about how faith isn't "at odds" with repentance (as some have said), nor that faith precedes repentance; but that, rather, as the ancient Jews would say, repentance precedes faith. "Repentance is the first half of faith," it has been said; and understanding faith--what it is, what it is not--is integral to understanding how it fits perfectly, hand-in-glove, with repentance. Faith, repentance, loving God--in the next chapter I'm bringing it all together and then, in a final blow, defining repentance with all those themes coursing through it. It should be exciting.

"re:framing repentance", Part I

Ever since February I've been working on a book that's all about repentance. In February I intended for it to be around 80 pages, but the more studying I did, and in my own desire to be thorough (which often translates into being long-winded), I realized that an "essay" on repentance wouldn't cut it. And so I decided to write an entire book on the subject, which I hope will be the first in a four-part series on the Christian understanding of salvation. I've finished the first third of the book. It clocks in around 100 pages. Here's what I have so far:

Chapter One: Who Demands Our Repentance? In the first chapter--which is 12 pages long--I give an ever-so-brief sketch of the Judeo-Christian God, doing so (mostly) by tearing apart some modern conceptions of God. The four I look at are pantheism (and its cohort panentheism), deism, the "lovey-dovey" romantic God, and the God of the Health & Wealth gospel. With each of these I show how the Judeo-Christian God is similar in parts and wildly different in others. I conclude the chapter with an examination of God revealing himself to Moses at the burning bush, then defining himself both as a rescuer and as a promise-keeper by leading his people out of Egypt and into the Promised Land.

Chapter Two: The Drama of God. In the second chapter--which is a whopping 30 pages long--I look at what's been called the story of God. There's Act I: Creation, followed by Act II: The Fall; then there's God's rescue operation set into motion, the calling of Israel, Act III. In Act IV we find Jesus walking around Palestine, preaching the kingdom of God and exorcising demons and healing the sick, eventually being killed and then rising from the dead. This is the inauguration of God's promises and the culmination of what he had always intended to do with Israel. In Act V, the Act which we currently find ourselves in, the kingdom of God is advancing. In Act VI, we find Jesus appearing, the great judgment, the recreation of the heavens and the earth, all of that. And Act VII is the act where mankind, so-to-speak, "begins again", fulfilling his original vocation as God's image-bearer. I hash all of this out in some detail, though I prevent myself from saying too much. I'm not writing a book on the drama of God, after all, but on repentance.

Chapter Three: The Call to Repentance. In the third chapter--which is 14 pages long--I look at several texts found in the New Testament emphasizing the necessity of repentance (over and against those who says that it's really not a big deal). I look at repentance in the life and message of Jesus. I look at repentance in the Acts narrative. I spend a considerable amount of time on the writings of St. Paul (who, for the look of it, doesn't have much to say on the subject; however, that's entirely not the case). Then I look at repentance in the later New Testament, Hebrews through Revelation. Finally, the icing on the cake: repentance in the apostolic fathers. A few mentionings from Clement of Rome and from the pens of a few others. The point I make is that repentance is a pretty big deal, and anyone who says otherwise has really not wrestled with the text as the text deserves to be wrestled with.

Chapter Four: Re:Defining Salvation. This is my least favorite chapter of all, if only because I feel like I have done a somewhat shoddy job and not tied up all the loose ends. Writing about salvation itself would (and will, eventually) take up its own book. In this chapter, which is 18 pages long, I focused on the death of Jesus and framing the atonement within that; I looked at propitiation/expiation and redemption/liberation. I examined the present aspects of salvation in contrast and conjunction with the future aspects of salvation; in other words, looking at how there is no real tension between "we have been saved" and "we will be saved."

Chapter Five: The Human Condition. Clocking in at 21 pages, this chapter is all about the current condition human beings find themselves in. I look at the legal ramifications of our condition-you know, guilty because of sin--and at the ontological ramifications of our conditions--being infected, consumed, indwelt with sin. Much of the chapter is devoted to mini-exegeses of selected texts (one from Romans 1-3, the other from Romans 7, and the final one being a sweeping look at Genesis 4-11). After all of that I define a few key terms to the best of my ability (evil, transgression, and sin).

The first third of the book is all about laying the foundation for understanding repentance. I'm of the conviction that you cannot simply leap into a subject and think you've gotten your point across. Everyone is so consumed with so many assumptions about everything that to assume that everyone assumes what you do is a ridiculous, illogical, and foolish assumption. (That's a lot of assumptions!) Everything I've written about so far in these chapters is, in my opinion, necessary to really grasping what repentance is all about. Now I'm faced with the most challenging part of the book: defining repentance. I've got seven chapters lined up:

(1) False Trails in the Quest for Repentance

(2) The Meaning of Repentance

(3) The Necessity of Repentance

(4) The Choice of Repentance

(5) Repentance & Faith

(6) Repentance & Loving God

(7) Repentance: Four Themes

36 Hours Revision, III

It's taken about two months, but I've finally finished the revision of my original 2004 novel "36 Hours." And I must say, this is something I'm decently proud of. If readers liked the original, they'll love this one. If readers hated the original, then there's a good chance they'll like this one. The original banked out at around 330 pages. This one--with tons of new material (including two brand-new chapters and a new prologue) and reformatting and editing--comes to about 405 pages. That's 75 pages of new material. Now I'm going to write all the additional "flash-forward" scenes, which will come to about an additional 30 pages. Which means the book will be around 450 pages. I'm really excited about it, and I can't wait to make it available. Oh: I changed the ending. The ending is what many readers loved, and I've changed it to make it even better and more memorable.

Now I'm going to go have a beer to celebrate.

tuna and writing

Move over Subway and Penn Station, Jimmy John's is in "da house." And I feel ashamed for actually writing that. But I truly do love Jimmy John's. Their club tuna--with cucumbers, tomatoes, and alfalfa sprouts--is probably one of the best things out there. Yesterday my friend Dylan and I grabbed dinner there and then we sat out on the front porch and talked for quite a while. It was great.

This week I am going to try to finish the majority of my revision of "36 Hours." I only have about four or five chapters to go before I deal with the present scenes. I continue to sell copies of the old version each week. I know this book will be pretty popular in its culture and genre once I finish it. I just need to find the time--between work, working out, and hanging out friends, time is sparse. But if my dream is to one day make a living off my writing, I must get started. My mind is reeling with ideas for the revision.

And you know what else? Another idea--unrelated--is to go and buy Alfalfa sprouts and tomatoes and tuna and make my own Jimmy John's. Bam. That's where I'm headed now!

the beginning

My good friend Patrick Hague is a pretty cool guy. He writes screenplays and has connections with film production companies. Early this week we met at Panera Bread and discussed writing a possible screenplay together. He wants me to write the story first, and then together we'll adapt it into screenplay form. We ordered our food and drinks and sat down and talked about the idea. It seems pretty solid. We actually came up with the idea for "Dwellers of the Night" together, but he became involved in other stuff so I wrote it myself. He wants this one to be truly collaborated. We're meeting together at least once a week to figure out what we're going to do with it. The story itself is pretty good, set during the Great Depression in the "dust bowl" of the west. Right now most of the burden is on my shoulders--I'm going to write the story while he finishes his current screenplay, something called "A Saviour Comes My Way." I'm excited about this story, and next week I'm going to really dig down into it.

down to cincinnati i go

St. Patty's day was pretty good, and I didn't even drink a drop! Pat, Ashlie and I grabbed China Cottage, and then Dylan, Tyler and I hung out for a while. Good times. Tonight I am going down to Cincinnati. Mandy is throwing a post-St. Patty's Day party with lots of Irish food and Irish beer. On Friday I am giving my friend Jobst a ride from Cincinnati to Dayton, which means I'll be spending the night down there tonight. Not sure how I feel about that. Cincinnati doesn't feel like home anymore. The job search continues unsuccessfully. I applied to seven or eight places yesterday, and about five or six the day before. I've called back, but they're not interested. *sigh*

I think I had A.D.D. when it comes to my writing. Why do I say this? Because I jump around between projects like a frog jumping lily-pad to lily-pad. I currently have five books I'm working on: "The Boy Who Hoped", "A Dream For Us," "The Toothless Kiss of Skeletons," "36 Hours: A Tale of the Undead (2nd Edition)," and "Metamorphosis." All of them are totally different from the others. "The Boy Who Hoped" and "A Dream For Us" have the same feel, "The Toothless Kiss of Skeletons" is in its own league altogether, "36 Hours" is just an attempt at me to feel good about my most successful novel, and "Metamorphosis" is a creepy sci-fi/fantasy that is character-driven rather than story-driven (something totally different for me). Today I'll probably work on "36 Hours" and do some scratchings for "Metamorphosis" before making the trip down to Cincinnati.

I talked my dad into letting me take his monstrosity of a van down to Cincinnati so I can finish packing up my things (I'll leave behind, though, my bed and bookshelves, but that's about it). Now I must run around and see if I can't find some boxes. I have a LOT of crap to bring home, but I'll probably be tossing most of it into the trash. "Spring Cleaning" if you will. And it certainly feels like spring.

36 Hours Revision, II

My original version of "36 Hours" received many, many great reviews. It also received many bad reviews. I posted the reviews in this blog some time ago (see the post on January 14, 2009). I'm thankful for all the negative reviews I've received, especially the ones where the critics expounded upon what was wrong in the book. In my rewriting, I am dealing with the glaring obvious problems of the book, such as the lack of character depth and development, the jagged story-telling (I'm making the scenes more fluid), the difficulty in understanding what is happening (utilizing the style of Hemingway, I am making the writing simpler and less infused with unnecessary adjectives), and the overall striking misspellings and poor grammar. I've developed immensely as a writer since 2004 (compare the original "36 Hours" to my 2009 publication "Dwellers of the Night", and you'd never guess they came from the same author), and I'm enjoying using my new skills and my new style in the rewriting of "36 Hours."

The most difficult task has been figuring out how to add more material in the third part of the book, which is quite anemic compared to the other two. This is due to laziness in writing the original. I've developed several extra scenes to incorporate and have worked extensively on a new direction for two of the characters (the two main characters, Austin and Hannah). I think this new direction is haunting, chilling, prophetic. I'm excited to write it. I spent an hour at Starbucks this evening filling pages with notes and scribbles, and soon I'll be able to flesh it out on paper. I've also been developing a parallel story set in the present (fifteen, twenty years after the main events) that will enable readers to see what happened to Austin after his ordeal; and not only what happened to Austin, but to the world as well.

As of right now I am 253 pages into the book. I just finished Chapter 20. In the original copy, Chapter Twenty is at 250 pages. So it would seem that through all my editing and revising, I have only added three pages. Keep in mind that the print in the new version is smaller, and the margins are wider; I've probably already added about thirty, maybe forty pages. I'm also going to be redoing the introductory material (the days prior to the main events) to make them more interesting.

I'm really excited about it, and I hope my readers are, too. At first I just started rewriting it as something to do, but this book holds so much potential that it's difficult to not be excited.

36 Hours Revision, I

It's midnight. And this is the latest I've been up in a long time (excluding last night, thanks to a long drive back from Cincinnati). I made the unfortunate mistake of deciding to finish revising a chapter of "36 Hours" before bed. I wrote 15 pages and saved the document and closed it. But I'm still thinking about it. It's currently at 200 pages. The original book was around 300-350 pages, if I remember correctly; the revised edition--with smaller print and wider margins--will be around 450-500 pages. At first I just wanted to reformat it, but I was so disgusted with the writing that I kept making changes. And then I decided to just rewrite it all. The changes are immense.

First, as mentioned, I've changed the font size and margin width, along with the font type (from Times New Roman to Palatino Linotype).

The perspective, originally 1st-person, is now 3rd person; I did this because I am more comfortable with 3rd person, and 3rd person deals with some of the weak characterization thanks to my poor use of 1st person.

I am entirely rewriting every script of what I have written. Reformatting paragraphs, updating dialogue, focusing more on characterization, strengthening the fluidity of movement, and making basic editorial changes.

I'm adding more scenes. Each chapter of the book represents a single hour in the 36-hour time-line of the story. The entire book is divided into three parts: the first 12 hours, the second 12 hours, the third 12 hours. The first 12 hours, in the original, banked out at around 100 pages. The third 12 hours came to about 35-50 pages. This is because I got lazy and just wanted to finish the story. While I'm not adding much to the first twelve hours (and meager additions to the second twelve hours) (minus flashbacks which will help strengthen character development), I will be adding about fifty or sixty pages to the last third of the book.

I'm adding a parallel story. The original book was told in past tense, and the main storyline (taken from the original) is still in past tense. The parallel story, which is much shorter, inserted between each third of the book, takes place in the present, and will be told in present tense--about fifteen, twenty years after the events of the main story. This will allow me to fill in some missing gaps, clear up some cliff-hangers, add more suspense, and really deal with some of the major plot issues of the original story (such as the rapid expansion of the virus; biologically speaking, it's impossible; but I'm dealing with that in the revision).

Basically, it's going to be a whole new book. I'm honestly ashamed of "36 Hours", the 2004 version. I wrote it when in high school. Now I'm out of college and my writing style has completely changed, reminiscent of Hemingway and McCarthy. Hopefully with this 2010 version, it'll be decent enough for my tastes (though we're all our own worst critics). I want this version to be the one that is remembered, and, unfortunately, the publishing company I use won't discontinue the original because they're making too much profit. Which sucks for me and my reputation (lots of people love "36 Hours," but an equal amount absolutely hate it, and for good reasons).

Anyways. It's ten minutes past midnight.
I'm going to try and get some sleep.
And not think about things.

the way it is

Snowed in. My day will be spent reading (I grabbed some good books from the library last week) and writing (the revision of my 2004 novel "36 Hours" is coming along nicely). In the atmosphere of literary enjoyment (reading AND writing), I present you with this chart:

Cormac McCarthy on the style of his writing

sick but writing

I hate being sick. The awful cough and the itching lungs and the sore throat is gone, but now I am more congested than I've ever been. My head is hurting and my nose won't stop running and my ears are popping. Not a big fan. But I'm not letting it render me useless. Today I hope to finish several pages on one of my books, "the toothless kiss of skeletons." I have reformatted and redesigned it so that it comes out to be about 250 pages. The original would have been around 600 pages. I have been really wrestling with this project, trying to figure out where to go with it; and I've finally come to a certifiable conclusion. Speaking of conclusions, I've again decided to take "A Dream For Us" in a different, non-zombie route. I want to break from the zombie genre and enter into the mainstream. Hopefully with "A Dream For Us," "The Boy Who Hoped," and "the toothless kiss of skeletons" I can do so.

A Dream For Us, Revisions II

I have spent most of the morning revamping "A Dream For Us" and contemplating different routes to take it, and I've finally made up my mind.

I'm going to turn it into a zombie book.

Why? Excellent question!

First, I enjoy writing about zombies. While most zombie books out there are "thrillers" in the sense that the bulk of the story is focused on survival, and includes a heavy amount of gore and firepower, I enjoy writing about zombies for different reasons. First, I simply enjoy it for the fun of it. It's exciting to write about life-and-death situations, and the possible scenarios within a zombie apocalypse are endless, if the mind is willing to tramp about such unknown territory. Second, I enjoy writing about it because of the theological and philosophical implications. Writing about a zombie apocalypse isn't just fun because of the action sequences; it's also fun thanks to the way I get to explore the evolution of theology and philosophy; it's also fun because theological and philosophical worldviews must be shattered and rebuilt. The theological and philosophical undercurrents of a zombie apocalypse are so vast that entire books have been written on the subject (one is sitting on my bedside table right now). Third, I enjoy writing about zombies because I get to explore how individuals and groups would react under pressure, disintegrating or strengthening; I get to explore the human psyche and its struggle to adapt, react, and re:adapt (kudos to Michael Scott for that one) amidst the trauma. And fourthly, I enjoy writing about a zombie apocalypse because it shatters everything we have ever known--civilization, morality, and truth are strained and even broken. In my last book, "Dwellers of the Night," I explored the theological ramifications from several different perspectives; there are the perspectives of "God Is Dead" to "God Has Caused This" to "God Is Love Amidst Pain & Suffering." Philosophical themes are explored, too: the nature of chance versus destiny; the nature of mankind, its good and its evil; the questioning of morality and the bases of it therein; the nature of love and romance; and lastly, construed throughout the entire work but brought to fantastic clarity in the last thirty pages, the nature of hope and hopelessness.

Secondly, to answer the original question, it enables me to develop the characters more fully. Character development is driven by external--and internal--circumstances. A zombie apocalypse makes it easy for this to happen. The external circumstance is the zombie apocalypse. The internal circumstance is the characters' responses to this. In my first zombie book, "36 Hours", written six years ago, I didn't understand character development. My latest zombie book, "Dwellers of the Night," is drenched with character development, primarily focused on the main character: there, the main character goes from being a loving, friendly man to a cold, calloused, bitter, heartless, and selfish creature who cares only about himself--yet underlying this cold heart is the flickering flame of a hope that refuses to extinguish, a hope that is futile and empty.

Thirdly, again to answer the original question, I have sold 37,000 copies of my previous two zombie works--"36 Hours" and "Dwellers of the Night"--and so I already have what could be called a "fan base" for the zombie genre. What's special about writing genre is that the readers of that genre tend to be loyal. While genre readers are much more critical of the genre than mainstream readers (many mainstream readers won't touch genre works, whereas many genre readers won't touch mainstream works), they will buy up all new publications or at least give them a read online to see if they're interested.

Fourthly, I can make it in a serial novel. A series of novellas--150 pages each--with twelve volumes. The entire volume would be called "The Procyon Strain", and it would cover the first twelve months of a zombie apocalypse. "Book One: A Dream For Us" will begin on July 31st and the last book, "Book Twelve: Sunset Royale" will end on July 31st of the next year. Each book will be ridiculously cheap, and I will get one to two dollars per copy sold; if readers get engrossed into the work, then they'll have no choice but to keep buying the new installments, resulting in me receiving anywhere from twelve to twenty-four dollars per entire volume sold.

And finally, a little inspiration for me: