CSFF Blog Tour – The Book of Names, Part 2


How much darkness is too much? I began this discussion yesterday as part of the CSFF Blog Tour for D. Barkley Briggs’ debut novel The Book of Names. I really appreciate all the comments addressing this subject. Each one has helped to clarify my thinking.

A little background is in order to explain why I think this question is so significant. When I first started writing my fantasy, now entitled The Lore of Efrathah, I included a section of backstory that “explained” the evil. I had a friend read it, and she said in no uncertain terms that if I included that section in the book, she wouldn’t read it. Oh, well, I thought, one reader lost. I kept the info.

Later, I asked an educator, who had said he was willing to endorse my work, to read. When he returned the manuscript, he said he couldn’t give me the endorsement in part because of the same material my friend had reacted to.

So years later, when I’d studied fiction and taken the scene out, not because of the darkness but because of the poor technique, I considered writing a prequel based on that background information. As I moved on in the story and wrote book two, I came upon a place that demanded more darkness.

Now I had a choice. Do I put the darkness in, knowing that I may find some readers like my friend, like that educator, or do I take it out? I prayed. I entered into discussions with other writers about “edgy Christian fiction,” and in the end, I wrote the chapters that are dark.

Why? I’d have to say, I did so because I needed evil to be credibly dangerous. If there was no threat, there was no need to fight it.

So now you know a little bit where I’m coming from. I have written dark scenes (I think my aunt stopped reading my books for that reason, but she’s too polite to say so).

Here’s where my thinking is now. Depicting darkness in and of itself is not wrong—the world is a dark place. In stories, depicting darkness may even be necessary to show the opposition to good. Darkness, however, to a certain degree is in the eye of the beholder. To God, all our disobedience is dark, heinous, a stain that separates us from Him. But to us? We see darkness every day, and quite frankly have developed tough skin to much of it. What makes us look away today, what would we label as revolting? The answers to those questions will vary from person to person.

So what’s a writer to do? How can you write to an audience that varies from person to person in the darkness tolerance level? Or should we write to God’s standards and show none of it because it is all revolting to Him?

Quite frankly, parts of my darkest scenes are revolting to me. I had a hard, hard time writing them. But I wanted them to be revolting. I wanted the darkness to look dark. But that’s the thing—I didn’t want anyone to mistake the dark for light.

So here’s what I came to for my writing:

  • I wouldn’t glorify evil by making it look appealing
  • I wouldn’t write in the evil character’s point of view to avoid appearing to endorse his thinking and to avoid bringing readers that close
  • I would focus the story on the fight against evil not on evil
  • Obviously other writers handle the subject differently. D. Barkley Briggs (Dean) is one. He has segments in The Book of Names that he wrote in the evil characters points of view. Here’s a short sample:

    “They will enter the bay soon,” Nemesia informed the shadowed man before her. He [The Devourer] was a towering figure, horned and helmeted with iron, caped in purple the color of spilled wine. He wore shimmering chain mail. A huge sword was slung at his back …

    The Devourer smiled dangerously. “My time is near.”

    “Well, my time is now,” Nemesia hissed. “I prepared the way before you. I weaken the will of both land and people …”

    As she spoke, the air around Nemesia became gray and blurry. She seemed to grow in both stature and terror. The Devourer, cloaked as a man, watched from the shadows, arms folded, unmoved. When he stepped into the beams of light, his dark eyes narrowed threateningly. He had a scarred face that was fierce and seductively handsome. Almost imperceptibly, he stretched two fingers toward her. The air in the room became a marinade of power.

    Nemesia convulsed. Her body shook. Her exalted stature shrunk as if melting. Within moments she was on her knees, limp, bowed over, gasping for air.

    So is that scene too dark? Or is too dark more than reading about evil acting as evil acts?

    To see the updated list of blog participants who I know have posted see yesterday’s post.

    I would like to draw attention to a couple articles I think you might especially be interested in:

    Jason Isbell has an interview with Dean.

    Rachel Star Thomson posited a thought-provoking question based on the opening of Book 2 in the Legends of Karac Tor.

    Chawna Schroeder reviews the book and gives her thoughts on its darkness.