IVP - Behind the Books - December 2007 Archives

For the Publisher Who Has Everything

Still shopping for the perfect Christmas gift for that special someone--the public face of your publishing house, the person who signs your checks, the person you have to cajole in order to get your pet projects approved, the person you have to answer to when your pet projects stain the carpet? Look no further than this spam e-mail I received today to find a gift for the publisher who has everything:

Hi David, a number of executives have engaged us to paint oil portraits of their CEO or Founders and I thought your company might like to have one too. It's a great way to recognize the CEO or Founder, it's a wonderful surprise, and always well received. It can be placed in your reception area, conference room or their home. We work discretely--photos are all we need. We can even paint the company's original location or existing building in the background.

My favorite part of this e-mail is the tag line at the end of the signature: "Mail back to decline further." I still haven't figured out what the company hopes to accomplish by encouraging people to more aggressively reject them (I suspect they're ultimately just trolling for live addresses to add to their database), but it's a phrase that resonates with me, since this week I've been putting the editorial equivalent of a lump of coal in the stockings of several would-be authors.

Part of the editorial gig is to review and often reject people's book proposals, and despite the spirit of the season, rejection waits for no man or woman. We reject proposals, for the most part, for very simple reasons: maybe it addresses a subject that's already been addressed, maybe the subject matter is too narrow a topic to justify the allocation of limited resources to produce and market it, maybe it doesn't dig deep enough into the issue, maybe the author doesn't have enough of a platform to draw an audience.

I'm always tempted to keep writing when I reject a proposal: to convince the author that I'm right, to minimize the emotional impact of the rejection. But generally a rejection from a publisher is mostly about the publisher, not about the author.

In a very real sense, every book proposal is like a gift for the publisher who has everything. InterVarsity Press, for example, has sixty years of publishing behind us, and our job is to acquire and publish books that make sense within that long tradition--not books that entrench us in some doctrinaire foxhole and not books that send us way out on a theological limb, but books that fit us as we continue to contribute to the evangelical conversation.

These are core questions of publishing identity: who we are, where we've come from, where we find ourselves in the current cultural context, where we see ourselves headed. To answer these questions is to say yes to some books but necessarily to say no to many. It's as simple as that; to decline further is often simply to belabor the point.

Still, I'm given pause by the language of publishing decisions: rejection is such a harsh word, and no matter how you slice it, declining to publish a book is a rejection. It's a little like unwrapping a gift from that special someone, harumphing and shouting derisively, "Pass!" I'm reminded of a Dilbert comic strip I saw early in my career: the evil Dogbert has taken on the job of evaluating manuscripts, and is taking considerable glee in writing rejection letters: "I hated your manuscript so much that I've now started to hate you." That's taking "decline further" to an inappropriate extreme, I think.

So please, if you've received a rejection letter from us this year, be assured that we don't hate you. It really is not you--it's us.

On the other hand, if you do find a book contract from us under your Christmas tree, please don't exchange it! Receive it with joy and the following benediction:

May your days be merry and bright
And may you get off your butt and write.

Writing: The New Spirituality?

I was listening to an audio dialogue between Julia Cameron (author of The Artist's Way) & Natalie Goldberg (author of Writing Down the Bones) called “A Conversation on The Writing Life” when I was arrested by their statement: “Writing is the new spirituality.” For both of them writing is the path to making meaning of the world, knowing yourself, (for Cameron) finding a higher power, and (for Goldberg) reaching a Zen state of understanding. And they both spoke about how writing leads us to truth.

Conversely, they talked about how some writers find that they cannot face the truth that writing demands of them, because it requires such piercing self-awareness. Writers can get sucked into alcoholism and other negative patterns. Some never find their way out.

I agree that writing can be a spiritual act. And we bring our souls into our writing. It is a dangerous act that must be guided by a trustworthy God. But writing as a religion? Sounds scarier than the line outside Target the day after Thanksgiving. What a fickle god writing would be!

Here’s what Vinita Hampton Wright says in IVP's The Soul Tells a Story:

When you’re dealing with something as soulful as your creativity, it’s good to develop some healthy respect for its inherent power. It’s equally important to acknowledge the transcendent character of creativity as well as its tendency to stir up all of life. Creativity emerges from the human soul, and this is a complex entity. Your creative vision resides there—and so do your fears. . . .

Nothing can be more dark and frightening than what the soul discovers when yet another layer of the self is pulled back. (p. 192)

Throughout the book, Wright takes these kind of deep questions that writers like Cameron and Goldberg are asking and uncovers how Christian spirituality can lead us to a safe and healthy place as writers. I highly recommend her book as a wonderful journey into the deep questions of writing and spiritual life.

A gospel presentation for the 21st century

Recent years have generated much fruitful discussion about what it means for the gospel to be more fully embodied and holistic. Christians are rediscovering the sense that evangelism is not just about giving people an escape ticket to heaven, but mobilizing kingdom followers to be active in God's mission here on earth.

One of today's evangelistic pioneers is James Choung, the divisional director for InterVarsity Christian Fellowship in San Diego. In his work with college students, James has found that some of the older evangelistic models and diagrams don't connect well with today's generation because the approaches are too individualistic and don't grapple enough with global justice issues. So James developed a way to explain Christianity that takes societal brokenness as a starting point and then invites people in both to personal redemption and salvation as well as cultural transformation and healing.

What's great is that this more holistic approach to witness is bearing fruit, with record levels of conversions and Christian commitment among InterVarsity chapters in the San Diego area and southern California. We're pleased to be able to share James's expertise in his forthcoming book True Story: A Christianity Worth Believing In, releasing in spring 2008.

Leonard Sweet says that James's gospel presentation and diagram "promise to be for evangelism in the twenty-first century what the 'Four Spiritual Laws' were for the twentieth century." The book uses a fictional narrative of two students (one a disillusioned believer, one a hostile skeptic) wrestling through whether Christianity is worth believing in. It's a fun read. There's also a companion booklet, Based on a True Story, intended for giveaway use.

The book and booklet will be available in a few months, but you can get a preview of James's approach with this three-minute YouTube video of The Big Story.

The Golden Compass

New Line Cinema's The Golden Compass opens in theaters this week amid much debate and controversy. Based on Philip Pullman's book, the first of a trilogy, it is set in another world like ours but not. Some are concerned that the book does (and that the movie will) represent Christianity in a false and unflattering light. Certainly Pullman has said, "My books are about killing God." So he is not being guarded about his intentions.

Having made my way to the halfway point of the third book, I have found the books to be immensely imaginative and creative. The worlds, the framework of his universe, the driving plot line all contribute to a good read. With a few exceptions, I found the characterizations generally disappointing. Somehow I don't get Lyra. And Will (who shows up in books two and three) hasn't captured me either. On the other hand, Mrs. Coulter is deliciously evil--one of the best-crafted villains I've met in the pages of a book in a long time. (I'm sure Nicole Kidman will be perfect for the role.) Lee Scoresby is as enjoyable a Texas sidekick as you'd ever want exploring the arctic with your pre-adolescent daughter.

But then there are more villains than Mrs. Coulter. Chief among them are the Magisterium (the council that rules the Church in Pullman's world as there is no pope) and ultimately the Authority (a god who was the first to evolve out of matter and who has hoodwinked angels, humans and others into thinking he is eternal in an attempt to control all). This, of course, is where all the hullabaloo comes in. The Magisterium is responsible for immense wickedness and abuses of power. The Authority is not far behind.

So what should we think of all this? Tony Watkins offers a balanced perspective on the trilogy in Dark Matters, a book that I think will be welcomed by devotees and detractors alike. Tony sat down with Pullman to interview him for the book and offers an appreciative portrait. A coworker here at IVP actually believes the books subvert Pullman's own viewpoints, for his heroes and heroines actually act out and approve themes of grace, sacrifice and redemption that would have been impossible without the biblical story.

Mark Morford in a no-holds barred piece puts the challenge this way to those who are upset about the books and movie, "If your ancient, authoritarian, immutable belief system is truly threatened by a handful of popular novels, if your ostensibly all-powerful, unyielding creed is rendered meek and defenseless when faced with the story of a fiery, rebellious young girl who effortlessly rejects your stiff misogynistic religiosity in favor of adventure, love, sex, the ability to discover and define her soul on her own terms, well, it might be time for you to roll it all up and shut it all down and crawl back home, and let the divine breathe and move and dance as she sees fit. Don't you agree?"

Morford's challenge is valid. This is a case where the proper response is likely not boycott or blanket condemnation but engagement and discussion. To the extent that Pullman's work feeds into and reinforces existing stereotypes of God and Christians, a response is needed. Rather than dissuading others from hearing a thought-provoking and potentially hostile story, however, let us offer better thoughts and better stories.

The Nettlesome Problem of Quotation Marks

Chris Farley turned the excessive use of quotation marks into an iconic moment of cultural insight with his "Bennet Brower commentary" on Saturday Night Live. The TV show Friends went after the air quotes conundrum as well. But for as consistent and prophetic a running commentary that a specialist in grammar and punctuation can be expected to provide, visit The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks. You'll laugh, you'll "cry," you'll be plagued with self-doubt. Have "fun"!

Ode to Editing

Lisa Rieck has posted an "Ode to Editing" at our sister blog Strangely Dim--part of the Fortnight of Odes(tm). Here's a taste:

Sum folks may claim (I wont name names)
that editing need, we don't

Click here to read the whole post, or here to survey the entire fortnight. Who ever said that editing isn't wildly amusing?