Why I Write Fiction

I write fiction because I’m passionate about Truth. I’m not passionate about facts or figures; I don’t care much about dates or names. However, Truth and Fairness are two things about which I care a great deal.

You may wonder why, if I care so much about Truth, I don’t instead become a journalist or historian. After all, you may reason, fiction isn’t about reality. It’s just a lot of fanciful stories about people who never existed doing things that never happened in places that don’t exist either. You may suppose, as many do, that fiction is about as far from Truth as one can possibly get. And you’d be right, in a way. In another way, however, you’d be as wrong as wrong can be.

The fact is that people don’t like Truth. It bites. It stings. It smells like harsh criticism. It tastes like...nothing. Truth is a reality show without the show; it’s completely undressed and thus unpalatable. Dress the truth up in a tantalizing costume, though—give it some colorful makeup, a wild wig, a voluptuous voice and a hilarious history—and suddenly it is transformed into a tabloid feature story people can really sink their teeth into. Simply put, fiction makes Truth palatable to the masses.

When I become aware of something that is grossly unfair—such as one group of people being singled out for harsh treatment, ridicule or exclusion from some activity all others claim as a fundamental right—I become incensed. Perhaps it is the sting of some childhood slight that still reverberates in my adult psyche. Whatever its source, it moves me to discover the truth underlying the apparent inequity and expose it for all to see.

What I find all the more horrifying is that some people are aware of unfairness in their treatment of others but believe in what they’re doing. Then, merely exposing the truth fails to suffice. Then, it becomes necessary to shame those people by pillorying them in public and exposing them as the bigots that they are.

Sometimes, when I perceive an apparent inequity, further investigation reveals that appearance to have been deceitful. Sometimes, people’s shameful actions earn them their neighbors’ disdain. When this proves to be the case, simply sweeping my earlier suspicions under the proverbial rug is not an option. I must expose the truth as the truth, however ugly, wherever I find it.

This is why I write fiction. So people will know the truth and, having received it, embrace it and become married to it. I long for the day when Truth will be recognized for Who He Is by all who behold Him. Then, at long last, I will be able to remove my mask, stand to my full height, and walk as myself among my fellows, worshiping Him.

Knowing as I do that people find Truth unpalatable, I write stories. Dressed in flash and dazzle, He is unrecognizable; people think that He might be Indiana Jones, back for another sequel. If I call him something boring, like ‘Jesus’ or ‘Lion of Judah’, I know that few if any people will ever read what I’ve written. However, if I dress him up as a shabby professor and identify him as a werewolf, I stand a chance of revealing Him to millions of children all over the world. He will stride purposefully into their hearts and they will enthrone Him there forever.

This is my passion. This is why I write fiction.