My last post was a study in romance.
I examined that deep surge of feeling I experience at the end of a good romance story, and realized it is Wonder: joy so fierce and poignant, it aches, reminding me that everything sad will come – and, in certain moments/places, is already coming – untrue. I renewed my mission statement of sharing Wonder through my writing, and I also promised to explain in my next post why I write fantasy instead of romance.
The answer is almost embarrassingly simple:
Fantasy is, for me, the most direct route to Wonder.
The End.
(GOTCHA.)
Fantasy inspires me to believe that anything is possible, for the simple reason that anything IS possible in a fantasy tale.
Of COURSE, trees can walk/talk and rings can make you invisible and filtered starlight can fight off giant spider-demons (Lord of the Rings).
Of COURSE, statues can come to life and roads can appear out of nowhere and whole cities can be moved with the use of one spell (Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell).
Of COURSE, words can enchant hats and plants and scarecrows (Howl’s Moving Castle – the book), and you can enter someone’s childhood through a cave and then fall through the ground back to where you started (Howl’s Moving Castle – the movie), and wizards regularly throw tantrums and melt into puddles of green slime (Howl’s Moving Castle – BOTH).
As a writer, this freedom is both wildly exciting and formidably daunting: my imagination is *literally* my only limit. My most recent novel (still in the editing stage) has among its cast of characters a fire-breathing dog, a living 2D pencil sketch of a mouse (with supersonic hearing), and a carnivorous bicycle.
JUST BECAUSE I COULD.
It is this uncompromising openness in fantasy that leads me back to Wonder. It’s like training a muscle: if you spend enough time “suspending your disbelief”, your heart will – logically – become more adept at believing. If I can imagine that all mythological creatures are part of one race of beings known as the Ancients, guardians of the Light of creation, then surely I can imagine other “impossible” things:
~ the possibility of a hopeful solution to a seemingly hopeless problem
~ the existence of good in a seemingly unredeemable person
~ the “coming untrue” of every sad thing
I had this revelation while reflecting on my faith recently. I was meditating on the Apostles Creed and suddenly realized how closely I was adhering to the Queen’s prescription to Alice in Through the Looking-Glass: I was taking time to believe six “impossible” things before breakfast.
Fantasy, Wonder, Faith – through Story, they weave together like a braid, supporting and informing and enriching each other: my lifeline, holding me fast to Hope.
That’s why I’ll keep writing fantasy for a while. (I’ve got at least four more books in the fire-breathing dog’s world, so . . . yeah. Not going anywhere.)
What about you? Where do you find Wonder?
Leave a comment or send a message through the website – I’d love to hear from you!
I find wonder when I look at the stars and planets. I find wonder when I am around my grandchildren. And, I find Wonder when I consider that Jesus loves me, I mean He really LOVES me!
Wonder has ever been my friend . . . I find it in an iridescent insect, in a thundering waterfall, in a sleeping baby, in horses that race the wind . . . God’s creation fills me with wonder. Then I read His Word and find the kind of wonder that transforms and enlivens and launches.