A better story
Added about 3 weeks ago by J. K. Denning
Novelist Jennifer Denning reflects on the experience of writing and publishing Broken Light, her first novel.
Five years ago, in a pre-Covid world, I began writing my first novel, Broken Light. I have always loved stories, from being read to by my dad when I was small to writing my own stories and poems as a child. For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to write my own novel. My degree in English literature increased my love of the written word, and although first teaching and then raising a young family meant there was little time for writing, I still managed the odd poem or short story. In 2019, I decided to enroll on a one-day course on writing historical fiction with Cambridge University’s ICE. I spent an inspiring day with tutor Elizabeth Speller and managed to write the first few paragraphs of the opening prose section of my novel. It was what I needed to get me started.
The world out there has changed since then, and so has my own. I have always found that writing is a cathartic process and during important and difficult times in my life it has helped me work through things and find a way forward. Family illness and losing my mum and a close friend while I was writing this novel have affected the atmosphere and shape of the narrative and given me an opportunity to explore my own feelings. Although fictional, in some ways Broken Light has become a mirror to my own emotional and spiritual journey during this time.
The novel seeks to explore something of this mixed nature of our human experience in the world and the relationship between faith, art and love. I believe that in every age God speaks both to us, and through us, in our human creativity and in our loves. Employing poetry and prose, I hope to encourage readers to consider the “better story” offered through faith in Christ which gives us real answers to the timeless, universal questions, problems and needs we all face, without being reductionist or denying the complex nature of life; the reality that things are rarely simply black and white in our experience and that sometimes the knots we have tied ourselves in are not easily untangled. In Broken Light, I want to affirm that despite all the mess and pain, and although fallen and broken, our lives and our art can have enduring significance and beauty through relationship with Him.
This is a theme that has interested me for a long time. The ideas I am attempting to explore in Broken Light have been fermenting in my mind for the last 30 years, ever since writing the dissertation for my degree at York University, when I felt challenged by the decline of the Protestant tradition in English literature and its subsequent secularization. I have increasingly felt convicted that as a Christian I should be a creator, not just a consumer of art, particularly at a time when the battle of conflicting worldviews and meta-narratives is raging all around us. It has taken me a long time to get to this point, and I’m very grateful to Natalie and Richard at Sacristy Press for believing in the story and helping Broken Light become a reality.
After visiting the National Glass Centre in Sunderland several years ago, I became fascinated by the long history of glass making in the North East. I was particularly inspired by the story of the Anglo-Saxon bishop, Benedict Biscop, and his journey to the continent in the seventh century to engage Gaulish glaziers to reteach the natives of Britain the lost art of stained-glass. My novel is based around this story, both literally and as a metaphor for the timeless human search for meaning, beauty and love.
Alliterative poetry, drawing heavily on Bede and Augustine, tells the tale of Alwin, a novice monk and companion to Biscop, and is interspersed with prose, narrating the story of Adam, an academic working in Durham in the mid-1990s. Alwin’s story is presented as a recently discovered mediaeval manuscript, which Adam is translating into contemporary English. As his own life falls apart, Adam finds his thoughts increasingly haunted by the ancient words. Overwhelmed by a sense of spiritual pursuit, he feels driven towards the quiet Lucy, whom he has previously despised and feared. She emerges as the artistic, spiritual and physical catalyst for the story; an embodiment of wisdom and light.
The thing that surprised me the most during the writing process was the way that my characters began to take on a life of their own and take the story in ways I had not predicted. When I had previously heard writers talk about their characters dictating the direction of their novels, I didn’t really understand what they meant and suspected it was rather an exaggeration. I was wrong. As my own characters became increasingly “alive”, I realized that I needed to follow where they were leading if I was going to create a truthful and authentic narrative. It is a tremendous responsibility becoming a creator and truth is an imperative. If art becomes divorced from truth, it is a dangerous thing. Art needs to challenge us and hold a mirror to reality as it actually is. There is always the temptation I think, particularly as a Christian writer, to write what you think should happen. But that is of no value, either artistically or spiritually. Fiction needs to work with what could and does happen and how God still works through the mess, the confusion and the pain. He is after all the God who brings good out of evil, beauty out of ugliness and light out of darkness. And let’s face it, the Bible itself is full of flawed, broken characters who are transformed and saved through the redeeming work of Christ. My novel is about such journeys, both inward and outward, and has also become my own journey towards a better understanding of the creative process itself. Being creative is part of being human, and through our creativity we reflect something of what it means to be made in the image of God; the great Creator of all things.
It was important to me that in my novel the journeys towards self-understanding and the rediscovery of lost knowledge should begin and end against the sea-haunted backdrop of Northumbria. The North East has such a long, distinguished spiritual and creative heritage and I wanted to draw on this wealth and atmosphere. I have been privileged to live in Durham for the last 25 years. My husband John and I have raised our four children here and I have grown to love the region’s deep but unassuming sense of history and the strange juxtaposition of heavy industry and wild natural beauty, particularly evident along the miles of coastline. I hope something of this distinct and unique sense of place comes through in this tale of loss, creativity, love and redemption.
I had always thought of Broken Light as a stand-alone novel, but a few people have already asked me if I'm working on a sequel. As the dust has settled from finishing this first book, I have realized that the characters are already beginning to push forwards with their stories. I think I need to follow and see where they lead!
Broken Light by J. K. Denning is out now in paperback and from most e-book retailers.
Please note: Sacristy Press does not necessarily share or endorse the views of the guest contributors to this blog.