I seem to reference Image’s blog Good Letters quite often. They provide sentences to unpack, ideas to consider. Here is a set from Gregory Wolfe’s editorial statement in issue #39, which he mentioned in his state of Catholic letters posts:
“If people are alienated from authority, ignorant of the richness of their faith tradition, betrayed by religious leaders—if they are lost, wounded, resentful, and doubtful—then those stories have to be told, from the inside out. Genuine doubt is not weakness but strength, a willingness to wrestle with the angel.”
This gets to the core of fiction, in a way, I think. Regardless of your religious affiliation or thoughts, people who are “lost, wounded, resentful, and doubtful” are the basis of stories and novels. And telling them from the inside out is an interesting thought. I wonder what that would look like, even what they would look like told from the outside in. (I’m positive we would recognize this somewhere, but it’s hard to move from theory to concrete example.) Hmm. Just one of those moments that prompts me to consider the nature of fiction.
Something to Consider
I seem to reference Image’s blog Good Letters quite often. They provide sentences to unpack, ideas to consider. Here is a set from Gregory Wolfe’s editorial statement in issue #39, which he mentioned in his state of Catholic letters posts:
This gets to the core of fiction, in a way, I think. Regardless of your religious affiliation or thoughts, people who are “lost, wounded, resentful, and doubtful” are the basis of stories and novels. And telling them from the inside out is an interesting thought. I wonder what that would look like, even what they would look like told from the outside in. (I’m positive we would recognize this somewhere, but it’s hard to move from theory to concrete example.) Hmm. Just one of those moments that prompts me to consider the nature of fiction.