The WR(ite) Blog

Okay, this is gunna be a LONG blog post. I have to cover the reason for the post as well as addressing the content of the title itself, so there’s a bit of material to cover.

I apologise in advance. Maybe I’ll split it into two posts and save everyone’s eyes. (EDIT: yeah, I’m gunna do that).

On to the blog post.

It was at an extended family gathering roughly a year and a half ago; I didn’t know everyone, and not everyone knew me. My sister introduced me to someone as an author.

Their response?

“Oh, you make a living out of lying!”

I’d like to say it was the first time I’ve had a response like that, but it wasn’t. It stung, but it wasn’t the first, and it wasn’t the worst.

Nor, unfortunately, was it the last.

I’ve been accused of everything from being a liar to dishonouring God; asked anxiously if I’m sure what I’m doing is something a Christian should waste their time on; accused of writing things that belong in Dark Mofo (an outspokenly anti-christian festival that specialises in blasphemy and anything that is an art form that speaks against Christ).

The latest of these occasions came in the form of a series of Facebook private messages through my author page, and prompted me to think again about this blog post that I’d meant to write at least a year ago.

I’d recently been invited to read and speak at a Christian arts festival that I attended last year as a guest; I knew that someone had found offence with my work and was trying to insist on my not being allowed to read. When the organisers mentioned the concerns had been brought up, I asked them if they’d like me to read from a different book instead, just to keep everybody happy. There was no thought in my mind that there was anything wrong with BETWEEN JOBS, just that it was better to make life as easy for the organisers as possible. One book for another–no big deal.

Unfortunately, the person who had objected wasn’t content even with me reading from another book and approached me through FB messenger on my author page.

The first message was more or less polite, apart from an accusation and an insinuation that were something of a slap in the face. They concluded their message with a demand to know why I wrote it [BETWEEN JOBS]. Why was it necessary? They wanted to enter into a dialogue with me about how a person who seemed to be sincere about their Christian faith, could write books with magic in them.

As I read the message, I prayed for wisdom in how to respond–as a matter of fact, I’d been praying just that morning for grace to respond to unpleasant people in kindness and not in pride, so I suppose it was timely. (And lest anyone think it was an excess of godly thinking that had me praying like that, let me tell you, you’re dead wrong. It’s because I failed spectacularly badly with something slightly similar just a week ago. God being the God He is toward me, He obviously decided to repeat the lesson.)

I swallowed the hurt of the accusation and the insinuation, and tried to remember that this person had represented themselves as a Christian, and that although they had no right to dictate what I wrote, or my conscience before God, they had every right to speak up if they felt their conscience led them to say something.

I didn’t want to answer in wounded pride, or hurt someone who was genuinely concerned for my soul. So I wrote back politely, letting them know I appreciated their concern for my soul; that I was completely whole in my conscience regarding my writing; that I was indeed serious about honouring God in all that I did; that I didn’t consider by writing about magic or murder, that I was dishonouring God. I told them I had prayed for many years over my decision to write as a job, and hoped by this they would understand that although our positions differed, we would have to agree to disagree and serve God in our own ways the best we could.

The next message from this person was considerably pushier; it demanded to know was I sure I was right in my conscience, and didn’t my changing the book I was going to read from mean that I was secretly feeling guilty about the book?

It contained several guilt-inducement attempts that I recognised only through having lived with a manipulator for the past ten years. It spoke of anger that something like my work would be read in a Christian festival, and tried to insinuate that there was trouble or misunderstanding between the organisers of the festival and myself. In short, it looked like the author was trying to talk me out of attending the festival, having failed to have me disinvited by the organisers.

I replied to let them know that I wouldn’t be discussing the matter with them, since I didn’t find it a profitable use of time given our vastly differing stances, and that I wasn’t in the kind of health that made debating over the internet a pleasant or sustainable pastime.

I thanked them again for their care for my soul, and concluded with the comfort that if God saw fit to show me that I was wrong, it would be accomplished in His time and through His Spirit, and asked that they be content with that.

Their final message didn’t even attempt any concern. This time, instead of opening with anything remotely appropriate (an acknowledgement that they would honour my request, or an agreement–no matter how reluctant–to leave God’s work to God) they accused either myself or the organisers of the festival of lying, and suggested I be very sure there weren’t any problems.

Having checked with the organisers that they were still very happy to have me attend as a speaker/reader, I turned my thoughts to considering what I consider every time I experience a reaction like this: the reasons I write what I write, and what I hope to accomplish in the act of writing as well as the books produced thereby.

To Be Continued in Part Two: Why I Write What I Write, or, The Actual Blog Post…