Recent work revising Chosen’s Ascension got me thinking about how various authors have handled their personal beliefs in the context of the fiction they write. Some do it with remarkable success while one example really detracted from my enjoyment of the novel. It got me thinking about how my beliefs as a man of faith are reflected in my series while trying to be very respectful of the audience I hope to reach (which encompasses anyone who enjoys fantasy).

Every author leaves pieces of themselves and their beliefs in their writing. I wouldn’t want it any other way. I love works that span the spectrum from subtle influence to unmistakable allegory. I enjoy works where the expressed worldview is directly opposite my personal beliefs. In short, I believe I do a reasonable job appreciating excellent storytelling and writing whether or not I agree with the author.

Examples I Appreciated

Works like Tolkien’s universe are examples of subtle and indirect alignment between his fantasy and his theology. Even having read The Lord of the Rings around twenty times, I am not interested in a deep dissection of specifics. That’s in part because I’d have to make The Silmarillion a much more serious study. Don’t get me wrong, I love a lot about The Silmarillion, but I’d much rather spend my time writing my books, or reading from the broader fantasy landscape.

Works like The Chronicles of Narnia and His Dark Materials abandon subtlety and yet they are great. Even though they sit about as far apart as imaginable in their presented worldviews, I believe any reader can appreciate the craftwork. To me, a key reason they work is because the reader knows what they are choosing to read. If a reader isn’t willing to sit through a Christian allegory, they either don’t pick the book up or they stop reading early on. There’s no feeling of a betrayed contract or betrayed trust when they read about Aslan’s death and resurrection. Similarly, if someone finds Pullman’s scathing commentary on organized religion off-putting, they choose not to start the series, or they put it down pretty early on.

I read and enjoyed both. Pullman crafted a well-told story with imagination and great characters. The same can be said for C. S. Lewis. My personal beliefs land far closer to C. S. Lewis than Pullman, but I found both authors’ works enjoyable.

What Not To Do

Now for an example of a book that utterly failed from my perspective. Paolini’s Eldest was ruined by a deliberate veering from the narrative that also represented a betrayal of the “contract” the series had established. We have nearly two books of fun fantasy before suddenly getting a religious lecture. We get a lengthy section where Eragon’s teacher lectures about the irrationality of religious belief. Honestly, it wasn’t the expressed view that bothered me. It was like going to a decent restaurant, sitting down and ordering your food. Your server sets your food on the table and moments later a salesperson steps up to a microphone and says, “Since you’re here, let me tell you about…”

Maybe I would have cheered if Eragon had asked about religion and this teacher had said, “You know, Eragon, let me introduce you to my two friends who can help you,” before stepping into another room where two young men with name tags and Books of Mormon sat waiting for him. Yeah… no. As ridiculous as that example sounds, it doesn’t feel like a far cry from what unfolded in Eldest to me.

Elenya’s Saga

Elenya’s Saga draws some clear influence from my beliefs, but I believe it always serves to make the story more compelling and interesting. For starters, I find fantasy and magic far more interesting when there’s some divine element at play. Elnorey is the goddess of the world in Elenya’s Saga, and she’s benevolent and deeply interested in all of her children. Those ideas clearly resonate with my experiences and my beliefs about deity. However, I work to make sure that Elnorey’s nature always serves the narrative and lets the characters deal with hard issues that are real to life. The story amplifies the intensity by giving characters tangible certainty. Elnorey’s servants literally touch her heart and meet her.

Athelon’s story deals with the challenges of duty to his goddess as it conflicts with duty to his family and his wife Iliana. His is a story where he wrestles with the cost of his certainty. Jonathan’s story turns that certainty on its head in Chosen’s Ascension. For Jonathan, meeting Elnorey destroys the certain, understandable world he knew. Certainty about Elnorey throws him face to face with myriad questions, and he won’t get simple, clean answers.

Wrapping Up

An author’s beliefs inevitably seep into their writing, and that is for the better. Some write explicitly for readers who share their beliefs. Some write with a clear, up-front intent to promote their perspective and share it overtly. Either of those approaches limits your audience. I want my writing to be enjoyed by as broad an audience as possible. For writers with that goal, it is important to avoid falling into the Paolini pitfall. I genuinely believe that Elenya’s Saga steers far away from preaching my perspective. That’s what blog posts are for :). Instead, the existence of a benevolent goddess creates a rich canvas to tell stories about complicated people in a messy world. Hopefully readers from any background can appreciate and enjoy the story and its themes.