Here There Be Dragons

By Mike Duran











A passenger jet, while flying cross-country, encountered an electrical storm. The meteorological phenomenon completely disabled the plane’s navigational equipment. In an attempt to calm the passengers, the captain took to the intercom. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he said. “I’ve got good news and bad news. The bad news is we have no idea where we’re going. The good news is that with this tailwind, we’re making great time.”

I was well into my forties when I finally complied with the call to write. The bad news is I have no idea where I’m going. The good news: I’m making great time.

Writers traffic in the world of intangibles. Half-hewn heroes and ideas in embryo inhabit the novelist’s noggin. Yet a strong tailwind is no guarantee that we’ll hit the mark. And to compound matters, every so often, God zaps our compass.

Saul was breezing toward infamy until God knocked him off his horse and blinded him. Years later, the recovering Pharisee – now the apostle Paul – would write, “For we walk by faith, not by sight” (II Cor. 5:7). It’s as much a statement about writing as living. We can chart a course and plot its unfolding, but any number of unexpected phenomenon could overtake us. Oh yeah, the Lord will set us on the runway and point us in the general direction. Sometimes He’ll even provide a storm or two. The problem is He’s not obligated to tell us where we’re going. Just ask Father Abraham.

“By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to the place he would afterward receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going.” (Hebrews 11:8 NKJV)

Did you get that? Abraham, father of the Jewish people, fountainhead of the Christian faith, "went out, not knowing where he was going." He pulled up stakes, loaded the caravan and rolled the dice; he walked by faith and not by sight, disregarded the navigational equipment and listened instead to a still, small voice.

This “inner ear” is a good thing for aspiring authors to develop. Medieval artists were fond of depicting the Virgin Mary’s impregnation by the Holy Spirit as occurring through her ear, not her sexual organ. She received and conceived.

The same is true today: God enters us through the ear.

It’s no wonder conversion events are often described as “callings.” Fate or Providence beckons and our internal GPS goes bonkers. Suddenly our journey brings us to a crossroad, a place where even Mapquest becomes strangely irrelevant. Some great, ethereal bird is finally on our radar, and we’re bound and determined to bag it. We’ve been called, chosen; impregnated by a Grand Something and we’ve no choice but to bare the offspring.

Likewise, the “call to write” is a mysterious thing. It comes to each of us differently, but always through the ear. I still remember the day I announced to my family that I was going to begin writing. They looked at each other and shrugged. The unspoken message was, "Just keep the lawns mowed, get to work on time, and don't get weird on us." I've managed the first two.

Abraham must have felt like this – quizzical looks, second-guessing and lots of unanswered questions. I heaved my backpack over my shoulder, stood at the crossroads, raised a damp finger to the breeze…and listened for that still, small voice.

That’s when I heard the first roar.

Ancient mapmakers, when reaching the end of the known world, often drew a monster – a griffin, hydra or dragon -- to delineate the boundaries of the unexplored. “Venture this far,” they'd say, “and ye may encounter beasts. Here there be dragons.”

In the same way, my writing pursuits have been one long exploration of the unknown. Don’t get me wrong, it’s been an exciting ride. But for the most part, I’ve been flying blind. I started writing evangelistic tracts, brochures and workbooks. Next, it was skits and a stage play. For a while, I wrote "Letters to the Editor," finally reaching the pinnacle when a rant of mine was printed in the L.A. Times. I was so happy I framed the piece and hung it next to my desk. After this, I dabbled with theological essays, then some fluffy, inspirational pieces. Then it was fiction -- first short, then long. Inevitably, I settled on the fiction thing, but not without wrestling a dragon or two. At this point, I still don’t know where I’m headed…but I’m making great time.

So you’ve heard, and heeded, a similar call. Then let me ask you: Do you know where you’re going? Yes, I know where you’d like to be: On the balcony of a vacation home, overlooking dunes and breakers, laptop at your elbow, pondering your next bestseller. The truth is the call to write may take us places we would have never chosen – places of frustration, disappointment, rejection and loneliness. There will be stops and goes, successes and failures, and always changes of direction. Heck, some of us may never see the completion of our “masterpiece.” We will reach the final chapters only to hear the Master say, “Come up hither.”

In this sense, the writing journey is a microcosm of life. We may set goals and nurture dreams, but where we end up is anyone’s guess. Novel Journey frequently asks authors about their “path to publication.” The question itself is a reflection of this uncomfortable reality and, as expected, the answers are wildly diverse. The one abiding theme, however, is that there are few insta-authors. Publication is definitely a “journey” and the path un-patented.

“By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to the place he would afterward receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going.” My guess is that his journey is like many of ours. We are called to leave the familiar, the comfort zones of our making, and venture into the unknown, where electrical storms crackle and our compass spins wildly, where the path disappears and a tattered sign announces: Here there be dragons.

Take heart! The pillar of fire may change course, but it will never fizzle. God may disable your navigational equipment but He will never abandon you. Despite the beastly roars, keep an ear to heaven. For though the trail corkscrews and rises into fog, like Abraham, you are never . without a Companion



Mike Duran is a writer who lives in Southern California with his wife Lisa. Mike was one of 10 authors picked for Infuze Magazine’s Best of 2005 print anthology and a finalist in the 2005 Faith in Fiction short story contest. His recent short stories have appeared in Forgotten Worlds, Infuze, Alienskin, Dragons, Knights and Angels, and non-fiction in The Matthew’s House Project and Relevant Magazine. Mike is currently seeking agenting for his first novel, What Faith Awakes. Otherwise, he inhabits obscure bookstores and rules the realm of Decompose.