I have a confession to make: I use stories.
I trot them out to serve me, twist them to do my bidding, and then push them aside violently when I get to my main point.
Like an enslaved people group, these stories are pulled from their native contexts, taken far away, and used to build something against their will—namely my articles, devotions, and non-fiction books. Okay. That might be a bit more dramatic and insensitive than is necessary to make my point.
Don’t get me wrong. I love stories. I do. But in most of my writing life to date, stories have been a vehicle for something else. I use them to illustrate my argument or to add flavor to a subject that could be a little dry. I tell stories from my own life, from literature, from history, or from current events. But until recently, every story was used in the service of something else.
A few months ago, however, I decided to write a story for the story’s sake. No more using. No more abusing. I would just sit down at my computer and write a story for the joy of it. The result was Plunge, my first attempt at a novel. And while I hope the book is an avenue for truth (as good stories are), I also hope it’s entertaining, that it can be read in the same manner it was written: for the sheer joy of story.
The first chapter or so can be read here. If you like it, please take a moment to nominate the book. If you’ve already done so, thank you! I hope I get to share the whole work with you soon. Just know that it’s only a story and is, therefore, a terribly powerful thing.