When you think of religious fiction, what authors come to mind? The obvious, of course, are the most famous: Dan Brown. Lynn Austin. Ted Dekker. Anne Rice has even delved into the subject. Over the past decade, religious fiction has become more popular and has steered the literary world into a territory that was seldom explored.
As an avid reader of religious fiction novels, I found myself wanting more meat, more in-depth detail, more examination of the genre that wasn’t revealed. So, I decided to try my hand at writing such a novel in a new genre. One I have self-categorized dark religious fiction.
Dark religious fiction flips the coin on the traditional plot of what I call normal religious fiction by focusing on the more unmentionable acuities of religious figures and/or religious beliefs.
Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code set the world on fire by exploring Christ’s relationship with Mary Magdalene on an intimate level. Although Mr. Brown’s novel gives insight to the human aspect of Jesus Christ, personally I would not call it dark religious fiction. To me, dark religious fiction takes a customary story of a religious situation or figure and twists it into a more sinister tale.
So, with that in mind, I set out to write such a novel. I knew undertaking the endeavor was risk. Before I put pen to paper, I asked myself one very important question: How far is too far? My goal was to write an entertaining, mind-blowing novel that would make the reader consider that perhaps, the story really could have happened as I detailed without offending or negating anyone’s religious standards. But how? After pondering this for many days, I finally realized that there was no definitive answer. Readers would either love it or hate it, and the only way I would find out was to write my book and roll the dice.
After three years of laborious research, and rewriting and rewriting again and again and again, my debut novel The Vitandi was published in March of 2014. The road to publication was not without obstacles. I was rejected countless times by agents and publishers alike, most siting that my book was too “taboo” for their liking. I even had an agent tell me no reputable publisher would touch it with a ten-foot pole. Undeterred, I kept on going, until finally, a small press took a chance on me and signed me on. What is The Vitandi about, you ask? Well, let me sum it up briefly.
The Vitandi changes what has been recorded of the relationship between Christ and the twelve apostles during the last few days before Christ’s crucifixion. The Bible tells us that Judas was the one who had betrayed Christ by selling Him out to the Romans for thirty pieces of silver. The Vitandi deviates from this and broadens the plot by making Christ believe all the apostles were responsible for His impending demise. Christ calls the remaining eleven disciples to meet with Him at what He refers to as The Last Supper, and the apostles, unaware of Christ’s anger towards them for what He has perceived as their deception, agree and go as commanded.
Once there, Christ reveals His suspicions that the apostles, along with Judas had conspired together for His crucifixion. The apostles, enraged at being accused of such treachery, demand a test of faith, one that would prove their loyalty. Christ presents the Holy Grail and fills the cup with His own divine blood. He offers the Grail to the apostles and bids them to drink. By taking His blood into their bodies it would unite them as one, proving their devotion to Christ and His cause. The apostles drink from the Grail but instead of the holy blood bonding them as Christ promised, it turns them into something far more undesirable. Christ declares that by consuming His sacred blood, the apostles would need it to survive and curses them to live forever, feeding on the very thing Christ regarded as the essence of life. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, the twelve apostles were transformed into the very first vampires by ingesting the blood of Christ.
Did I go too far by writing this? I honestly don’t think so. So far, the few reviews I have received for my novel have all been glowing, and other authors have expressed kudos to me for having the guts to write a whole other take on the origin of the vampire by blending religion with vampire mythology. But then again, I’m not a bestselling author. My book has not been publicized or marketed like the Dan Brown’s or Anne Rice’s of the world. Had The Vitandi had the financial backing of one of the big five, I have no doubt there would be scores of individuals eager to pick my book apart word for word and band together to organize a public book burning of The Vitandi in the town square.
My intentions were not to upset anyone or offend those who hold their religious beliefs so dearly. I simply wanted to write a unique, original vampire story that bypassed the usual storyline. You know the one. Vampire male who’s lived for centuries hating that he’s a vampire and then meets human girl who he obsesses over but is reluctant to make her a vampire because he doesn’t want to condemn her, but on the other hand, he can’t live eternity without her. Blah. Blah. Blah. Yeah. I was so over that.
I was so satisfied with The Vitandi that I’m proud to say a sequel is in the works. My second novel, Anathema, is well underway and I anticipate its completion in another three months or so. Anathema still has the same characters from The Vitandi but a new hero and heroine have taken the front seat. Anathema focuses on Gaius Cassius Longinus, the Roman commander who pierced Christ’s side while He hung on the cross. Gaius was damned as a vampire too for his role in Christ’s crucifixion.
I’ve been asked by several people what advice I’d give to aspiring authors who are too afraid to break away from popular fiction and branch out to write about what interests them as opposed to what “sells.” My advice is this: You only live once and pushing the envelope and going just a bit too far can prove to be a very satisfying, very rewarding experience. Sometimes going too far is the only way to go.
Recommended Article: The Vitandi – a Review
Religious fiction isn’t limited to Christianity. Fiction books by Stewart Farrar dealt with witchcraft, which is a religion…. my own fiction is based on witchcraft and treats it as the main character’s religion. Salman Rushdie famously used non-Christian religion, and there’s certainly Shinto-based fiction out there as well. Let’s not be limited or provincial about the subject. Wilbur Smith took on ancient Egyptian religion and there are other authors who deal with, and in, ancient faiths even if they do have to make wide-ranging assumptions about them.
One might argue that, if one has to create a religious concept almost from the ground up you are not properly dealing with religion per se, but I can assure you that Farrar at least had his facts straight, as do I, even if my treatment of witchcraft does not deal in specifics. Neither does a life of Christ deal with specifics of modern Christianity, so I’m excusing myself on that basis.
Shibboleths should be an acceptable subject for fiction writers, since we ask the question ‘What if?’ and no subject should be taboo.