On “The Lamp Series” & Philosophy



World Building

It’s been quite a while since the Lamp Series books have landed and I wanted to take a quick moment to discuss my motivations for writing the book and speak to some of the underlying themes in the work. Although these themes span all four books in the series, I will try to avoid issuing spoilers by limiting most of this to the first book.

As I mentioned in a previous interview, the idea for the book arose during a conversation with my editor, Tom. I told him I wanted to write a dark and gritty urban fantasy. Tom threw out a suggestion about a guy who has to go on missions that he doesn’t understand. That was a great start. And I could raise the stakes on each progressive mission. It felt like a strong premise and the mystery element intrigued me. Our hero would carry a lamp and then get beckoned to random addresses at very inconvenient times.

The next step was to flesh out who this lamp-bearer was, and the idea of making him a former boxing champion recently pardoned felt like a good match. Why not, right? It’s so much fun to write about strong characters in vulnerable situations. For Levi, the main protagonist in The Lamp, he’s a fierce and physically intimidating man, yet we find him dealing with trust issues. That becomes the chink in his armor which allows doubt to possibly sabotage his mission.

Violet, a character who begins to steal the show in Dark Works (the second book in the series) was actually not intended to be a major character. This was going to be Levi’s journey entirely, but I needed a scene wherein Levi gets his wallet stolen. Once I wrote that initial scene with Violet, I became intrigued by her and it startled me (fellow writers will know this phenomenon). It was almost as if I found her on a street corner and she was saying, “Hey, if you’re going to put me in your stupid book, I’d better be the star!” And sure enough, the Lamp saga took a new direction, and suddenly Levi had this charming little pickpocket to accompany him on his journey. Jenny was another unplanned addition.

And then we come to the frightening antagonist of the book, a Shadow Lurker named Dev. My goal here was simple: write the thing that would scare me the most and have him stalk poor Levi. What would make me not want to open a window or peek through the blinds once the sun goes down? The answer is Dev.  So I wrote my own worst nightmare and if reviews can be trusted, this figure creeps out a lot of readers. Good.

Setting

Atmosphere is very important to story, and it's one of the reasons I loved Orwell's "1984" so much. I envisioned a gritty place with lots of brick walls and graffiti. Tree-lined sidewalks with ornate brownstones resting just beyond the streets with skyscrapers rising up in the distance. Our heroes inhabit a great Unnamed City. And while it may seem odd that I don’t define our world more clearly by just naming the place, the reason for this hopefully becomes more obvious as the books progress. By the end of Falling Embers, you’ll have a better idea of why I made this choice. If not, then e-mail me.   

Themes

Once I had a basic premise to build upon, the writing essentially became me, as the author, wrestling with what philosophers call The Problem of Evil or theodicy. It's a very personal exploration of my own struggles with this issue, sort of like dipping a pen into the ink of my own blood before setting it to the page.

Some have asked me if the Lamp series is about God. The answer is both "yes" and "no." It's about a group of people trying to make sense of a mysterious world which offers very little in the way of answers. And yet there's always a sliver of hope that something grand and mind-blowing and beautiful lay just beyond the horizon.

This Problem of Evil states that God is either all powerful and not all good, or is all good but not all powerful. So either God is powerful enough to stop evil and suffering, but chooses not to (in which case, he’s not all good) or is not powerful enough to stop it even though he wants to (in which case, he’s not all powerful). This proposition, however, has always reeked of a false dichotomy to me because the possibility of other options would dissolve the tension here. Even a third option to this philosophical challenge would deny its force.


Perhaps evil and suffering occur because the world is not fatalistic and choices really do matter. If God exists and allows this chaos to swirl unabated, which surely produces both good and tragic realities, it says nothing of this God’s character – only that he values freedom of choice. But what about natural evil, like earthquakes and tsunamis? Why allow such destructive forces to occur at all in the presence of a loving Creator?

Here we move away from the category of evil into the more specific category of suffering. Does the presence of suffering, whether through natural disaster or human depravity, exclude the possibility of a Creator who is both good and powerful? I see no reason to think so. That we suffer is a fact. Why we suffer is a question with many different possible answers. Maybe it's good to be reminded that we are not the center of the universe and how to value what's truly important and lasting. I can tell you from personal experience that many deeper things can only be gained through suffering. 

Maybe there are malevolent forces at work in the universe and we are engaged in some epic struggle. Perhaps these forces have power over the natural elements and exercise their own free will to bring havoc on the Earth. If we're on vacation and a bug lands in our drink, we feel like throwing a tantrum. But if we're taking cover on the battlefield after an intense firefight and a bug lands in our canteen when we're dying of thirst, we'd be thankful there's a drop of liquid there to even entice an insect. Perspective matters.

Other times we may suffer because the Earth has been set on a natural course and sometimes tectonic plates shift and giant waves swallow us. Sometimes people make irresponsible choices and others suffer as a consequence. If, however, there is a chance that all things will be sorted out in the end (assuming the God hypothesis, as The Problem of Evil does) and all injustices satisfied, then we might think of our lives as a severe testing or examination period instead of a vacation. If there's eternal value to being tested by a chaotic, senseless and often violent world, then we have another possible explanation to the Problem of Evil. This perspective also makes sense of a God who allows malevolent forces to act in ways that are contrary to his nature. For a time.

I personally suffer from chronic and sometimes debilitating pain. Does my temporal suffering in this life mean our powerful thirsts will not one day be quenched? If this concept of an eternal perspective is even remotely possible, then the Problem of Evil has been shown to have a fatal flaw. 

As I maintain in The Lamp Series, I do not know the answer to why any individual suffers, though I know of several different possibilities. If we are to imagine a world without God and without an afterlife, then the question of “why is there evil and suffering?” becomes nonsensical. In that scenario, we suffer because that’s what happens in nature. Organisms live, they suffer and then they die – on and on into oblivion. There is no such thing as real justice or a final sorting out of all things. In a Godless universe, the Problem of Evil is meaningless and the dispassionate grave awards all equally.

The question of why there’s evil and suffering only makes sense if there is a God who is both good and has all power over his creation. But I'm not sure we need to worry so much about the “whys.” Even if I knew the reason I suffer from chronic pain or why little kids get cancer in light of a loving God, it wouldn’t make the agony any easier to death with. Pain and loss still suck. Just knowing there are potential answers (one of which is probably correct – I just don’t know which one) deflates the so-called Problem of Evil.

When someone around me is hurting, I try to refrain from saying there’s a reason for it. Maybe there is. Maybe there’s not. Maybe this person is suffering because of someone else’s poor choices or because nature is ruled by entropy. And yet, whatever suffering an individual must undergo in his or her lifetime, it will someday end. I might struggle with chronic pain for forty more years, but it won’t last forever. Hopefully things will be sorted out in the end and justice will have a name. It certainly doesn’t hurt to think so, and would be irrational to maintain confidence that there is no final justice or reward granted to those for whom this life proves cruel.

So much more could be said on the subject. C.S. Lewis has written extensively on this, and from a deep place of personal experience with grief. I suggest reading Lewis for a lengthy treatment of the Problem of Evil.


Thanks for reading.

Humble Arrogance (The Size of the Universe & Us)

Lately, I've seen a number of articles comparing the minuscule size of our little planet to that of the sun, then expanding to our galaxy, and finally to that of the observable universe. It’s a breathtaking and impressive comparison. An illustration is below:







Usually this presentation ends with a clever truism, like, “You are not as significant as you think.” The point of the illustration is to give us perspective and humble us to our place in the universe. However, although I'm all for dispelling arrogant notions, this type of reasoning is somewhat flawed and arrogant in itself. Why?

Because it assumes the size of something determines its significance or value.


But is that really true? Compare the size of a giant boulder to that of a tiny seven karat diamond. Which will fetch a higher value? Or should we say that a 7-foot tall NBA-player is more valuable than a human infant because he’s just waaaaaay bigger? We know this isn't true, and yet logic sometimes goes out the window when we're presented with grand themes based on a false premise.

So what determines something’s value, if not its size?

If we all gave this a little thought, we might agree that what determines a thing’s significance is not its size, but its rarity or uniqueness.

Now it would be arrogant of me to claim that we are alone in the universe (something I couldn't possibly know), but we do know that our planet is extremely rare among all of those other floating rocks in our galaxy neighborhood, which is kind of huge. Our little blue marble contains not only the minerals and climate to support life, it actually contains life. That, we also know, is extremely rare. In fact, it may be utterly unique.

Imagine now that there are at least 100 billion planets in the Milky Way, and yet only .000000001% of them contain even the remote possibility of life, let alone intelligent life forms, then I’d say we have reason to celebrate our rarity. Human beings are valuable, despite the enormity and vastness of the universe. Actually, we are significant because of the grand scale of the universe. We’re like a diamond sitting inside a one thousand acre compost heap. Small, yet nevertheless significant.





This is a photograph of the Martian landscape. If you're anything like me, looking at an image like this might give you goosebumps and make you all giddy with excitement. And yet, consider that there isn't a single insect crawling or flying around on this landscape. Not even an ant or a mosquito. No life at all. Just rock and ash and nothingness. And so it is with our other floating neighbors and, for all we know, it could be true of the entire universe. Just rocks and dust of varying degrees and properties.    

I know it’s not popular to say this in a culture which values cynicism above all else, but the truth is that you actually do matter. A lot. Each person you meet has value because they are rare in the universe. If you are still persuaded that your fellow human beings don’t matter much, then consider this:


Imagine that you alone are given the ability to live forever. For this point on, you are immortal. No one else exists (no gods, no people) in the entire cosmos, except for you. Forever. What would it feel like to witness the most majestic vistas and experience endless wonders – and yet not be able to share a single one of them with another person. Ever. For all of eternity. Just you. Nobody else. A billion years from now... still just you.

Does this sound more like heaven or hell?

Cynicism is a virus, and it kills from the inside out. While pretending to dress in humility, it is cloaked in arrogance. It is irrational and prays on the unthinking. Do not let this virus infect you.

People matter. You matter. 



Arguing on the Internet



I’m going to make a very strong statement, and then defend that statement in this short essay. Here it is: Engaging in or reading internet arguments will make you mentally ill.

Imagine waking up on a beautiful day, hazy sun-rays peeking through the blinds, the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee in the air. Everything is magical. And then, out of nowhere, you begin to hear the voices – those constant voices – always bickering inside your head. The ones that never leave you alone.

You’re not schizophrenic. No – You’ve been reading comments on a blog or scrolling through a never ending Facebook news feed.

This constant flow of opinions and attacks from mostly-anonymous armchair philosophers eats away at our sanity. Ask me how I know. Once upon a time (a month ago), I would stroll past CNN articles just to read the comments section. It didn’t even matter what the headline was, people in the comments section would inevitably call one another racist, stupid, and the discussion would always (for some inexplicable reason) head into a debate on religion. How could comments on an article about homeless kittens devolve into people issuing death threats to one another? Good question.




Somebody once said the best thing about the internet is that it gives everyone a voice, and the worst thing about the internet is that it gives everyone a voice. And it not only gives us a voice, it gives us a megaphone from which to spew every sort of complaint we’ve ever dreamed up.

Civil discourse is a rarity online because of the nature of the internet itself. While a sane person might hesitate to call random strangers idiots to their faces, we might do it several times a day online and think nothing of it. We get the immediate payoff of acting aggressively toward someone with whom we disagree without any fear of reprisal. And yet we walk away from the “conversation” feeling both victorious and dirty at the same time. We’ve lost a part of our humanity by surrendering to our animal instincts and devaluing another person because it makes us feel superior.

But if you’re like me and merely read arguments without commenting, it can be even more frustrating. You walk around all day long with foreign voices in your head, arguing with one another about the most pedantic issues. Does anything get resolved from this? Do you feel better or worse after scrolling through pages of folks calling each other morons and idiots? This routine slowly chips away at our sanity over time.




And to my fellow Christians, for the love of God (literally) please stop hurling insults at people online. I don’t care if they insult and poke fun at all that you hold dear, your pithy remarks are not adding light to the conversation. I’ve had very edifying and fruitful discussions with atheists and agnostics in person, but rarely has this happened online. If you feel that you must argue online, dear Christian, then please don’t repay an insult with an insult, but show respect, patience and humility at all times. You have no excuse.



/rant

The Omnibus has arrived...




The 734-page omnibus is now available on Amazon, and saves a few bucks over buying each title individually.


What I'm Working On


So I've embarked on a new series which I'm tentatively calling The Westside Saga. Westside is a hyper-realistic post-apocalyptic drama (sorry, no zombies) that takes place in a third-world United States after an economical collapse. The first book (due out in the Spring of 2015) follows siblings Cora and Danny Green as they search for the truth about their missing father. It's a journey piece and will introduce you to some (hopefully) unforgettable characters.


Unlike the Lamp Series, which takes place in a dystopian present and contains supernatural elements and essentially seeks to scare the crap out of you, Westside is set far into the future and the world in which the story takes place does not contain magic. Reading this book will be like visiting an alien planet for the first time only to realize you've been there before. It's going to be a fun new world to explore.  


Falling Embers Update

I know that some of my six fans have been (im)patiently waiting for news on the Falling Embers release. The good news is, there are only three chapters left to write and then it's off to the editors. The books typically go through a few rounds of editing (one beta, a copy-edit and several proofreads) before it's fit for release to the general  public. So while I don't have a firm date right now, Falling Embers should be available in late July on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Kobo, iBooks and a few other places.

Also related to the Lamp Series, I'm going to be unveiling some new artwork for the release of the 800-page omnibus edition (hopefully due out sometime in August). We are commissioning an artist to do anime-style character drawings that will be included in that edition. I'm also toying with the idea of doing a unique comic book related to the series (but only if there's enough interest, because that's a crazy amount of work to pull off). Feel free to e-mail me if you have any interest in seeing that project come to life.   

The Lamp Interview and Review

The following interview with U.K. book reviewer, Victoria Mildenhall, took place a while ago but I left for the Philippines shortly after it was conducted and never got around to posting it here at the blog. The interview begins with her review of the first book in the Lamp series. We talked about a few different subjects, but I'm just posting the relevant parts here. Hope you enjoy.

The Lamp: Review and Interview with the Author

Browsing on a particular website for something new to read, I came across a Supernatural Thriller among the usual free ebooks that are quite rubbish (See previous article Fifty Shades, the Aftermath).  I had already asked for my money back on a number of self-published books, less to do with the content, and far more to do with the incredibly poor quality.  Spelling mistakes, grammatical errors, sections missing are only some of the ways which mar a reading experience, and some are so bad it is actually impossible to read them at all.

However, I digress.  I downloaded the Lamp by Jason Cunningham and can honestly say that I was utterly astounded, partly because it did not contain the irritating errors that I mention above  but mostly because it was so compelling.  It is one of those rare books that you do not want to put down, even when your eyes are closing by themselves and you know that you will need to get out of bed in about three hours.  The primary reason I enjoyed it so much was that there was no telling what would happen next.  Unpredictable and understated, the characters as well as the story were compelling and easy to connect with. 

My only gripe was the ending.  I nearly screamed when it ended and I was left with questions, which is why I left a review on the site that I had downloaded it from, and did grump a bit about the ending.  The author very kindly pointed out that there are sequels to come which has left me very relieved.  Briefly, the story revolves around a man who comes out of prison and returns to his old house to find a lamp left for him that has special powers, although he does not know who has sent it to him.  Underlying the story is a question of trust, and whether or not he can trust the sender, who also leaves him messages. 

I would really recommend reading this book, not too short and not too long, it is very entertaining and whilst the story will have you gripped, the social problems that underpin the storyline are equally as fascinating.  I enjoyed it so much that I contacted the author and asked a few questions, which he very kindly answered.  They provide an backdrop to the Lamp, and offer some useful insight as well as a message to you all....  Enjoy and thanks to Jason Cunningham for his time! 


Q: What was the inspiration for your book, "The Lamp"?

A: I told my editor that I wanted to write a story about trust. Can you trust someone you've never met? If so, to what extreme? The philisophical implications are obvious, and as someone who's always found it hard to trust people, I wanted to tackle this subject matter honestly. The hero, Levi, is a guy with a rough past who is granted an incredible favor from someone he's never met. But he's not sure if this makes him liberated or enslaved. In a sense, the answer is "both."
When Levi realizes his life is in jeopardy, he has no choice. If he doesn't trust this mysterious friend, he'll be dead in short order. But that doesn't make it easy. The idea of a guy who is burdoned with carrying this lamp that heals sick people came from my good friend, Tom Safford. That's as far as we went with the idea and then I put it away for a while. But the characters sort of found me and dragged me back, letting me know there was a story to tell here. So although the premise and the theme were interesting to me, I'll always be a character guy at heart.

Q: Would it be possible to get an idea of what readers can expect from the sequels?

A: Yes! I'm keeping the same cast of characters, although Violet will have a more predominant role in the second book. I'm also introducing a few new characters to fill in the world. Not to give away any spoilers but there is also a new villian, much in the vein of Dev from the first book, but more terrifying. Actually, the second and final books will be quite a bit scarier than the first installment because the stakes are much higher and not everyone will make it. That's all I'm saying.

Q: There is an article on your blog entitled 'Adventureland' which offered an insight into the personal philosophy of you and your wife. Do you think that your philosophies on life influence your writing or do you prefer to stick to fanstasy alone?

A: I don't know how writers can seperate the two. Life and art are too infused with one another. Our lives are enriched by art, and art is kept honest by reality. My first book "The Island of Ted" tackles the idea of the American Dream and escaping the rat race, as well as the importance of relationships. Some might even think it's a bit heavy handed, which it might be. It was my first book, after all, and I'm still learning how to balance that.
No one wants to be lectured to when they're just looking for a relaxing read. The Lamp tackles some of my own weaknesses like trust and courage, and I wanted to throw every temptation at Levi that we all face on a daily basis to see how he reacts. A long time ago I heard a great truism about what makes for a good story: Give your hero the biggest challenge you can throw at him... then make it worse.

Q: When you re-read a book once you have finished it, what are the important characteristics for you? (for example, strong characters, lots of dialogue, being able to picture the story etc.).

I have to care about the characters, what happens to them. It's visceral. When I'm reading back over a story, I want to be sucked into the world and lose myself in it. Whether or not I learn some life lesson is secondary. So if I don't feel emotionally stirred up or compelled to care about the main characters, the story needs to be reworked. Story is important, but for me plot is always second to that emotional connection with the characters. Something I hate, and try desperately to weed out of my writing, is overly descriptive passages or what's called "purple prose." That's gotta go.

Q: Based on the above question, do you feel that your favourite authors have influenced or inspired the way that you write and in what way?

A: My first reaction is to say no, but I think influence does probably seep in unconsciously. Most of the writers I respect and admire don't write in a style that's similar to mine. The closest is probably author Hugh Howey, because he tends to use strong themes and also writes lean. But I also think Hugh is a better writer than me, even though he's my closest style match. I read more non-fiction than fiction so there are always threads of reality to my work. Real people and situations inspire my imagination more fully than well crafted fiction, although they both do the job.

Q: Is there any message that you would like to offer to the readers of this article, whether they have read your books or not?

A: I suppose not, since any message I might give would only sound like common sense to most folks. Read C.S. Lewis. Read lots of non-fiction and never be afraid to let it change your opinion about something. And when you're finished reading all the good books out there, maybe throw mine into the pile somewhere, if only for kindling.