I received an interesting review of The Ghost Box the other day. The review was titled, “A great story, but it lacked the deeper meaning I was expecting” and followed by a three-star (actually 3.5, but you can’t do half-stars on Amazon) rating. The reader said,
If I was giving a rating based on the quality of the writing and the story alone I would actually have given it 5 stars. The story intrigued me from the beginning and kept me wanting to read just a few more pages every time I sat down with it. The story is well thought out and kept me guessing.
This is very encouraging indeed. And much appreciated. Sincerely. But then the reviewer clarifies what caused him to subtract stars:
My only disappointment with this book is that since it is written by a pastor/author/blogger (I have followed his blog for a while now and love it.) I thought there would be more of a spiritual tie into the story. I kept waiting for it to come and was left disappointed. Duran wrote a book about the genre of Christian Horror novels, and I know he has spoken on the topic at writers’ conferences. I enjoyed the book a lot, I just didn’t feel like there was much take away value from it. Maybe I missed a bigger picture or something, but I finished the book expecting a lesson learned, or a deeper meaning and I was disappointed when it was over.
This is something I’ve really wrestled with since deciding to write for the general market. I’ve built my “brand” around noodling over theology and culture, and wrestling with the intersection of art and faith. It’s still surprising to me how many of my readers spend time on my blog or know me through my social media presence. But that also has a drawback. In this case, because the reviewer knows I am an ordained minister, that I have written about Christian themes, and published in Christian fiction circles, he was expecting to find a “deeper meaning” in my novel.
Question: Is that a good or bad thing?
Contrast that with an older gentleman I spoke with last month who just gushed about my stuff. He said he’s read everything of mine and will be the first one in line for my next Reagan Moon novel. He spent the rest of the conversation talking about how a Christian worldview just shone through the story — an unbeliever (a slacker, as Kirk DouPonce put it) coming face to face with the Invisible and being challenged to lay hold of a much higher calling. It was one of those conversations that leaves a writer buzzing. Hey, someone “got” it.
I suppose the natural reaction, in the case of the review above, is for me to want to explain the “deeper meaning” of The Ghost Box. I want to sit down with this reviewer and have a Beer Summit. I want to listen to his take and then dissect a couple scenes in the book for him. But writers aren’t supposed to do that. Writers aren’t supposed to worry over people’s opinions and niggle over their stuff. And, to be honest, that novel was less about including some profound meaning than just having fun. I wanted the story to be a fun, fast-paced, over-the-top, but satisfying ride. And I think I accomplished that.
Perhaps the bigger problem here is… I wasn’t aiming exclusively at Christian readers. And this is where things get sticky. The reviewer concluded,
As I said before, based solely on the story and writing I would have given this 5 stars, but by calling it Christian Horror/Paranormal I was expecting some take away from the story at the end and was disappointed. (emphasis mine)
So here’s the thing: I don’t / didn’t label The Ghost Box “Christian” anything.
The Ghost Box marked a significant turning point for me. I’d published almost exclusively in the Christian market but wanted to break away, to broaden my reach. So I toned down (you could say, eliminated) overt Gospel messages and specifically DID NOT attach the word “Christian” to the book’s label. As you can see in the Amazon BISACs, The Ghost Box is Science Fiction, Fantasy, Paranormal, Urban Fantasy and Teen & Young Adult. Any suggestion that The Ghost Box is Christian Fiction is entirely on the part of readers. Can a Christian reader find something to enjoy in the novel? I think so. But my bigger hope is that fans of Urban Fantasy will enjoy it. Which, apparently, creates a bit of a limbo.
Perhaps this is just a lesson in branding. Some people know me as a Christian writer and blogger. Nothing wrong with that. Nor am I trying to distance myself from that label. So should these readers expect “deeper meaning” in my novels, primarily ones aimed at the mainstream market? Perhaps this is the big problem with being a crossover novelist — you want to respect your existing readership while seeking to gain new readership. The problem is, some readers might expect “deeper meaning” in everything I write.
(And, to be clear, this is NOT a smackdown of this particular reviewer. I genuinely appreciate people taking a chance on my books, as I do this reader. His review is fair and, frankly, it’s a plus to get reviews. Period. I write this only as an example of some of the potential branding problems a crossover novelist might encounter and whether or not Christian readers, fairly or unfairly, import expectations into our reading.)
There’s a scene in Raven’s Ladder by Jeffrey Overstreet that made me laugh:
After Krawg has told a story:
“Still,” muttered a creaky miner who had stopped at the top of the stairs, “there was something there in the dirt of that story.” He watched Krawg and Warney ascend as if they were only a phantom of memory. “Some meaning under it. Or perhaps creeping along behind.”
“Well, out with it then!” said a younger version of the old man as he placed his foot on his elder’s hindquarters, grabbed his shoulders, and straightened him with a tug and a crack! “If you can’t spit out what your story’s about, where’s the sense in it? Shouldn’t punish listeners by making them . . .” He paused and thought for a moment. “By making them think!”
LOL! Good one, Lelia.
My first novel Finding Angel was a finalist in the Grace Awards when it was first published. I was told that it was the book (or one of the books) the judges discussed the most. I’m not entirely sure what that meant–if it was that they really liked it and it stuck with them, or they really liked it but had a hard time judging it because…they also said it didn’t have enough faith elements, and so was not chosen as winner. I also was turned down by a Christian author for endorsement because the story wasn’t “deep” enough.
I let it slide. I’m okay with it. I never really wrote Finding Angel for the Christian market. But I find it highly ironic that the one scene the contest judges complained about–a scene were my Elven rocker plays a song for the others which makes them actually experience visions–was based on Job 38:39 through 41:34. You can compare the scene with the Bible passage and see that it follows verse by verse. NOT ONE CHRISTIAN READER HAS EVER NOTICED THIS. There are brothers in the story whose relationship I based off Jacob and Esau (I’ve had maybe two or three readers mention noticing this). Also, the whole, flipping, entire conflict of the story is about science alone vs science with magic, which is an analogy for secular science vs creation science. And the end scene–no one has ever said a word to me about the message of sanctity of life being in there–something I was afraid would come across like a hammer blow.
I know I have readers who get it, but there are others who just don’t see it all. I’ve decided that is not my fault. I can’t be held responsible if I write deep and someone doesn’t recognize it. I simply take heart in this quote by Madeleine L’Engle: “You have to write the book that wants to be written. And if the book will be too difficult for grown-ups, then you write it for children.”
Let me amend my statement about not one reader noticing the Job thing–I should say, not one reader has ever indicated to me that they noticed it.
I love that quote 🙂 Madeleine L’Engle certainly had a way of writing difficult things into her children’s stories that encourage children and show them the world as beautiful. That’s how it was for me, at any rate 🙂
There is always the possibility that, when you write a story, people will misunderstand it. Imo, the only questions we can really ask ourselves about this are:
1) In what way did I contribute to the misunderstanding?
2) If I did, and I didn’t want to, how can I learn from this what to do differently next time?
Sounds like the same problem my husband has with his sermons. He’ll have one person say it wasn’t very deep and they would prefer more Bible verses and maybe some Greek words. Another person will say it was too much and maybe he should tone it down, all on one Sunday.
Every Christian has their own definition of “deeper”. Yes, you want to respect your audience, but there will come a point where you simply cannot please everyone.
And there’s a point at which the requests for “deeper” are missing what’s more important: sermons that aren’t propaganda. I’ve sat through many sermons where the preacher’s “supporting” points didn’t actually lead to the conclusion…often misusing words or including objectively incorrect data (such as calling something a run-on sentence that’s just long, not a run-on).
I wonder if maybe part of the problem is this pressure to make sermons “deeper” (or “lighter”), which makes preachers tend to embrace one side or the other and lose sight of what the sermon’s actually supposed to do: support its own argument.
I’m admittedly more sensitive to noticing this kind of problem than most, since effective communication has been my day job for years. (I also have some other reasons for being sensitive to the distinction between what’s intended and what’s actually said.)
But I believe the logic of a sermon matters far more than how “deep” or “light” a sermon is, and it’s something that too often seems treated as less important than the depth/lightness and stating the desired conclusion.
I can think of one preacher in particular whose church finds him so amazing and he’s even requested as a guest speaker by other churches…whose sermons can only be understood by those who already know the denomination’s jargon, and who expresses concern that the denomination doesn’t get many new converts. [facepalm] He also outright misuses at least 3+ each sermon and tends to omit a necessary transition for his argument to be understood by folks who aren’t already familiar with the argument.
I’m not saying all these things make him necessarily a bad preacher, but his stated desire to witness to unbelievers and his style of preaching are contradictory. When I’ve bothered to politely point out a specific inaccuracy in a sermon—not in others’ hearing—he and others making those kinds of errors have responded as if outright offended. I don’t know if it’s because I’m a young unmarried female or because I point out how their own references don’t say what they claim they do.
Perhaps it’s the denominations I’ve been in, but these kinds of preachers are far more common than the ones who actually support their own arguments and who make the transition/definition/data slip-ups rarely—and who don’t mind if someone points them out.
That kind of consideration for your listener—to make sure that you’re actually arguing what you claim to be arguing—is “respecting your listener”, in my book. Anything beyond that is personal style.
Sorry for the double-post, but there’s supposed to be a “words” after that “3+”.
This is a good question, Mike. On the one hand I could understand someone wanting a deeper meaning from The Ghost Box based on the subject matter alone. (Even if they didn’t know your background.) The main character gets a eyes-wide-open view of the supernatural so you might expect a more significant change, or to see glimpses of the nature of God, or something…
On the other hand…Raiders of the Lost Ark had a supernatural ending that was about as in-your-face as could be, yet the hero goes through no significant change, nor do we get some great revelation. It is sort of a shoulder-shrug event, as if those things happen all the time.
So why should your book be treated any different? Hmm…
Ah well, everyone’s entitled to their own stupid opinion, as my dad always says. When I read Ghost Box, I thought you did a JJ Abrams. He did a TED talk about mystery boxes–questions that once answered only bring up more questions. That’s what made LOST so fascinating. Once the final mystery box was opened, people lost interest. Well, Christians don’t like mystery boxes. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve seen people argue smugly, “Eye has not seen or ear heard etc. etc. but God has revealed them to us through his Spirit, so, ha ha, there can’t be any mystery in Christianity.” Never mind things like Ezekiel 1 (Angel? UFO?) or the ongoing fights about which way to interpret Revelation, or even predestination. Nope, we like to pretend that we don’t have any mystery boxes.
So if you, as a Christian, have the temerity to pose questions and leave them unanswered, YOU ARE A FAILURE.
Fifty DKP minus. 🙂
Very enlightening! Especially as I find that it’s pretty much nearly impossible for me to write overtly Christian fiction with a straight face. I can read it just fine and in my nonfiction? I try to include all perspectives. But it’s just not in me to do that. I’m with Morgan L. Busse. You can’t please everyone. Reader-response criticism is highly idiosyncratic and very arbitrary. Just be happy you have the review and that it was so coherently worded. And hey, that kind of review? Would make me MORE interested in the book. If I hadn’t bought it already. 😉
Great examples in the comments above, Mike. Hopefully, you won’t let one review shake your confidence in your story choices.
My personal experience with your story is one of enjoyment and expectation. Knowing you and your blog (like the reviewer), I felt that you were deliberately choosing to keep the more religious aspects buried behind Reagan’s personal skepticism. I thought that was a savvy direction to go, and it’s a trope common to the genre (in a good way).
I just happened to rewatch the pilot episode of the X-Files and Scully’s unbelief is the perfect foil to Mulder’s belief. You contrasted Reagan’s unbelief with his girlfriend’s belief really well, I think. It kept a light touch on things. Personally, my expectation is that (since this is a series), Reagan’s position on the supernatural is going to shift as he gets more involved with it. Again, that’s the way such stories go. And it’s part of why we love them.
Pretty sure that reviewer just missed what you were trying to do. He thought he knew you, but didn’t get it. The fact that he honestly thought this was supposed to be “Christian horror/paranormal” means he didn’t really hear you all those times when you said or implied that you were seeking to write a story without that label.
As time goes on, and your body of work expands, it will become clearer to readers what kinds of fiction to expect from you. You can proactively shape that expectation with how you brand yourself (the #SpecFicCollective blog is coming out with a series of posts on that topic, actually), but it can also happen organically over time.
Thinking about this a little further, it occurs to me that this is a good example of how what we blog about shapes the perceptions of our fiction readers. While I wouldn’t want you to ever stop blogging about the things you do, Mike, (because I find a lot of value in your thoughts) it’s possible that if you want to build a brand as a paranormal author, you might separate the two.
The fact is that readers of secular paranormal fiction probably won’t be interested in reading about the failures of the Christian fiction industry or the deeper issues of Christian life. But they’d be missing out on other things that go on in your mind that they WOULD be interested in.
The nature of the Internet makes it relatively easy to have two blogs / sites. MikeDuran.com for your personal musings and MikeDuranAuthor.com or MikeDuranFiction.com for your author site. Some people look down on separating things like this, declaring, “But this is me! If they can’t handle all of me, then too bad for them.” or sometimes, “But that’s deceptive! Why should I wear a mask, as if I had to hide who I am?” But that’s not the point.
In real life, person-to-person encounters, we are wise to speak in ways that relate to the other person we’re conversing with. If I was chatting with a Firefly fan at a comics convention, we’d be talking about dinosaurs on the bridge, the color of our coats, and leaves on the wind. We might talk about torture, and losing an ear. If we talked religion at all, it would be because of a shepherd named Book. That’s not deception, that’s meeting someone where they are and starting a relationship based on mutual interests. If I was at a Christian women’s retreat, it’s likely torture and smuggling wouldn’t be on the topic list. And that’s okay.
Anyway… Just wanted to say that it’s worth considering whether your ultimate goals are better served by having separate sites for your musings: this one, and another for your fiction and topics related to it. The posts you do about Christianity and horror would fit on your fiction site, in my opinion, because they’re an analysis of a genre and its influences. While the posts about the Christian fiction industry (and other in-Christian-circles topics) would fit better here.
Staying focused on ONE niche is one of the most basic principles in Internet marketing. It helps with search engine optimization (SEO), attracting readers, building brand, targeting ads, etc, etc. Something to think about, depending on your end goals. Feel free to message me privately if any of this sounds worth a discussion. It’s not theory to me, as I also have content that is geared towards widely disparate audiences.
Yeah I agree with this, but I think beyond a certain point you’d still have to mute yourself. Even with an author blog, posts about Christianity and sexuality would turn your secular readers off, and maybe to an extent conservative politics, especially in the wake of the Sad Puppies. If your aim is a more modest “make secular people think and worship by personal witness,” you’d have to take a hard look at things which mark you as part of the in-group of evangelicals.
I don’t think though Christianity in general or even pastoring would affect this, but Orson Scott Card is a good cautionary example.
“and evangelize by personal witness”, rather.
I think Mike you might have to consider a pen name for your non Christian works. I know Joanna Pen uses two names one for her non-fiction works and another for her fiction. You might have to create a separate page for your non-christian works as well. I think you hit the nail on the head, it’s a branding issue and you do have a strong Christian brand. It make sense to think that anyone that reads your name will assume that your work will have same overt Christian emphasis. I’m watching you as I finish this series of my own, I think my next book will not be “Christian Fiction” so I’m going to see how you muddle through all this, maybe you can make a trail for this fellow. God Bless.