Christianity teaches universal love of humanity.
"Hate the sin, love the sinner."
It is also a religion of peace.
Followers of Christ should exemplify certain Christ-like qualities: Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Self-Control.
Is it possible for someone to exemplify all of these traits and to be a follower of Christ while writing something that sometimes glorifies the opposite?
I honestly don't know.
I am a good Christian man . . . as good as I can be I suppose, but I also have an odd taste in movies and books. I enjoy the writings of Lovecraft and Stephen King. I love classic horror films like Dracula, Frankenstein, and the Wolfman. I also really liked Zombie movies. George Romero is a genius. I'm not crazy about slasher flicks, but Candyman III was the scariest movie I've ever seen (only because I was like 12 when I saw it) and John Carpenter's Halloween was fantastic.
So taking influences from these various forms of horror and a little bit from natural ability and creativity, I have taken to writing short stories. I have so far only written three and they're going to be a part of a book of short stories tentatively titled, "Monsters." Granted it's not an original title, but it's simple and I like it.
That being said though . . . am I wrong? Is there something wrong with my Christianity? Is there something wrong with me? Am I disturbed? I don't think so.
I think that I am able to identify the horror of an imaginative life because I have been saved from the very real world of sin. What I do when I write is display the horrors of sin and the horror induced by these fictitious monsters. Though I do not show the grace of Christ, I think I can say that sometimes in life you don't see the grace. When evil is so prevalent, sometimes it is all we can see. That's why I write works of fiction. I create monsters that couldn't possibly be real. They are just archetypes. They are pictures of a seriously distorted world. This isn't necessarily my world or my worldview. It is simply the manifestation of my view of sin.
Please excuse the sporadic nature of my thoughts.
I haven't full formulated my opinion.
I'm contemplating trying to get published.
The following is an excerpt from The Tragic.
Amanda Smith had known now for a few months now that something was living under her bed. She had often heard it breathing when she closed her eyes at night, and when she’d peek out of the corner of her eye over the edge of the bed and down to the floor, there had been many times when she could’ve sworn that she has seen it dash back under. The creature was small, black, and quick and she hoped that it wasn’t dangerous. At nights when she’d close her eyes, her mind would turn to what she called her imp. That’s what she would’ve called it, you see, had she been willing to tell anyone what she’d been seeing.
