Publication!

It is with excessive pleasure (and barely a trace of smugness) that I can announce the publication of my novel, Three Men on a Pilgrimage: A Comical Progress, by Whispering Tree Original Books.

It's available in ebook or hard copy, at £6 and £10 respectively.

Furthermore, there will be an official book-launching event being held in Milton Keynes on the 17th of May, to which you are invited, if you're able to come.  Myself and Steven Smith, another Whispering Tree author, will be there, copies can be purchased, and refreshments bought, the proceeds of which will be going to Christ the Cornerstone church, which is hosting the event.

On Charity (Part 3)

My apologies for the hiatus between posts. I was away for Easter, that special time of year in which Christians are reminded that even (or perhaps especially) when we lose, we win.  Anyway, on with the bloggage!
 

Again, there wasn't supposed to be a third part to this little series of posts, but I saw something the other day that bears thinking about.

As I mentioned above, I was away for Easter, and I got back on Wednesday afternoon, arriving at Milton Keynes Central station.  Outside, as there often is, was a little group of Jehovah's Witnesses with a little stand set up from which they were attempting to disperse their literature to passing travellers.  A little annoying perhaps for those not observant enough to give them a wide berth, but hardly a problem.  In many ways I admire them for their tireless attempts to evangelise, being willing to put themselves in the way of rejection, hostility and abuse in the name of their faith.  'Good for them', you say.

But look again.  Outside the station that afternoon were no less than four homeless men, huddled against the station wall.  One of these was barely ten feet away from where the Witnesses had set themselves up.  He didn't look at them, possibly for fear of being evangelised at.  What struck me though, was that they didn't look at him.  They weren't talking to him, and I don't mean they weren't evangelising, they weren't even talking.  Now, it could be that they had tried, and had received a mouthful of abuse, and left him alone, I don't know.

But what I saw, and what numerous travellers and commuters saw, was a group of supposed Christians trying to spead their faith, trying to persuade others that they had something worth exploring, worth sharing in, and ignoring the very obvious needs of those whom we have been told to clothe and feed and shelter.  I can't speak for the other travellers, but it left me cold.

There are many ways to evangelise, and giving out leaflets is not the most effective.  The best sermons are not printed, they are not even spoken.  They are acted, and lived, and don't even require an audience.  Those Witnesses had the finest opportunity for evangelism that they could have imagined, but instead they stood there and ignored it.

On First Person Perspective, In Third.

Warning: Small to moderate amounts of literary pretention to follow.

Tom decided that he had written enough theological posts for the moment, and that it was time for some more about writing.  Specifically, he was going to write about perspectives.

Most of the stuff he had written had been done in the first person (i.e “I walked down the street”), and for reasons unbeknownst to him, this was the perspective he was most comfortable with, and the one that gave him the best fit into his characters’ skins.  The current magnum opus, Three Men on a Pilgrimage, was written in the first person, as were the many very silly parody stories that he wrote back in uni, and many of the marginally less silly short stories he’s written since.  Of the four and half NaNoWriMo’s he had attempted, three were in the first person, and the other one and a half were rubbish.

There were sometimes good reasons for this.  Certainly in the case of Three Men on a Pilgrimage, he was imitating the style of Jerome K Jerome’s ‘Three Men in a Boat’, which is written as an account of a boating holiday by one of the three men in question, and so is naturally written in the first person.  The parodies that Tom had written in university based on the Allan Quatermain novels were in the first person for the same imitative reasons.  The second NaNo novel, about Bow Street Runners in an alternative history London was vaguely based on contemporary novels by Defoe, Smollett and Swift, all of whom tended to write ‘memoir’ type novels written in the first person as account of the main character’s adventures.

In fact, generally Tom’s favoured reading also tended to come in the first person.  As well as older stuff like the aforementioned Swift and Defoe, and Rider Haggard and Jerome, he also favoured the first person when it came to modern works.  The Dresden Files by Jim Butcher, The Adventures of Captain Alatriste by Arturo Perez-Reverte and the Eisenhorn and Ravenor trilogies by Dan Abnett were all written in the first person.  Both when reading and writing, Tom always found it easier to get inside the experiences of a character when he was reading about them from their own perspective, as opposed to that of some invisible and omnipresent Narrator, who was still able to get inside characters’ heads and see what they were thinking or remembering.

This was also an issue when it came to roleplay games.  Some people preferred to say “I attack the orc” when what they really meant was “My character attacks the orc,” while others would say “Conrad the Barbarian attacks the orc”.  Certainly for Tom, it again came down to inhabiting the character, ‘getting into the role’ so to speak, and he thought that that was as important in writing as it was in roleplaying.  The first person perspective gave you a clearer insight into their moods and motivations, and made creating those character significanly easier and more natural sounding.

On the other hand of course, he was aware that a great many of the best and most popular books had been written in the third person, and he had enjoyed these as well, so clearly it was far from clear cut.

Ultimately, it was all just a matter of perspective.

(And let’s not begin to discuss why this post, like most third-person writing, was also written in the past tense!)

Charity and Giving Part 2: Giving to the Homeless

Nowadays it is easier to be charitable than in previous ages.  Nowadays it’s not too tricky to set up a standing order with one or more noble causes and more or less forget about it, except when you need to feel a bit virtuous, and it can be recalled and held up for yourself as an example of what a Good Person™ you are.  The virtue of charity has never been easier, but I do wonder whether that means it’s less virtuous.  After all, while it’s costing you money, it isn’t costing you more precious commodities such as time, or effort, or really even thought, once the initial setting up is done.  Please don’t think that this is a denunciation of the charitable standing order, far from it; it’s a wonderful thing.  However, I think that possibly there is more to be done.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that one shouldn’t give money to homeless people begging in the street.  “If you really want to help,” we are told, “you should donate regularly to a homeless charity (a charity for the homeless that is, not a charity without a home).  After all, they’ll only spend it on drugs and alcohol (the homeless person, not the charity).  And if you absolutely must do something for them, buy them some food and/or a hot drink.” 

This seems like good advice, and for a long time I followed it.  It seems very sensible and pragmatic and so forth, taking into account human frailties and human faults.  However, that doesn’t stop the twinge of guilt as I walk past beggars, trying to ignore them or shaking my head and muttering “No, sorry,” as I pass.

It has increasingly seemed to me that while it is no doubt excellent advice to give money to homeless charities, since these are largely attempting to deal with the long-term problems, the root-causes and to help people out of the cycle of homelessness and joblessness, it leaves the short-term problems somewhat by the wayside.  Now obviously many also run soup-kitchens and shelters; I’m not for a second claiming that the short-term needs are ignored altogether, but simply by giving to a charity still seems to leave something lacking.  Instead of completely ignoring them, I have in the past tried to do the right thing, and buy them some food, and that has helped a little.

It has been argued to me in the past that it is wrong of us to assume that “they’ll just blow it all on drink”, not that you can really blame them for trying to escape the misery of their lives for a little while, short-term and counter-productive as it is.  It is a cynical and judgemental assumption, and if our positions were reversed, I would resent it.  The very act of buying a homeless person some food, while no doubt appreciated, highlights the fact that you don’t trust them enough to just give them some money, and that in itself must feel like a blow to the gut.  It is very easy to be cynical, to be pessimistic, to assume the worst of other people, and I daresay that it is often (even usually) entirely justified, but I have increasingly come around to the idea that everyone should be given the benefit of the doubt. 

I do not wish to live in a world in which I assume the worst of everyone, or have the worst assumed of me.  I shall be idealistic, and assume the best of everyone, and no doubt I will often waste my concern and my money; it will be put to those lower uses that discourage other people from giving.  That is the choice of the person concerned, and I cannot and shall not be held responsible.  However, sometimes it will be used to buy food, or pay for shelter, and that person’s life will have been improved ever so slightly, for just a short space of time, and if that only happens once in twenty times, I will call it a fair rate of exchange.

So when it comes down to the question of giving money to homeless people, or donating to charities, my answer is: why not both?