The most unmarketable story every conceived

I have an awesome idea for a story that absolutely, completely, 100% unmarketable. It blends two completely unrelated genres in such a way that it will almost certainly offend large numbers of readers in both. The best way to blend genres is usually to label it clearly as one and don’t let the others know that they’re invited. Well, with this particular story, that’s impossible.

The story blends Mormon religious fiction with Space Opera. It takes place in the Millennium, hundreds of years after Jesus Christ’s second coming to the Earth. The lamb has laid down with the wolf, and the lion eats straw like the ox. There are no more wars or armed conflicts: the swords of the Earth have been turned into plowshares, and the spears into pruning hooks. Satan has been bound, that he has no power over man, and Christ reigns in power and glory upon the Earth. People live to the age of a tree, and when their time comes, they are changed from mortality to immortality in the twinkling of an eye without tasting death. Resurrected beings regularly come down to visit the Earth.

All is not well, however. The events that launched the Millennium set off a thousand-year chain reaction that will turn the Earth to a sea of glass. At that time, it will become a great Urim and Thummim and be rendered uninhabitable for mortal beings. For that reason, Christ descended in power and glory to unite the nations of the Earth so that they could pool their resources and build a generation ship that will take the last remnants of humanity to the stars. This Millennial ark, the Starship Lachoneus, now represents the last hope for the continuation of humanity.

By now, you can probably see why this story is completely unmarketable. Science Fiction fans will be turned off by all the overtly religious stuff (I plan to make Jesus Christ an actual character), and Mormons will be turned off by all the Science Fiction mixed with their religion. There’s no doubt that I’ll offend large numbers of people in both genres if/when I ever write it.

At the same time, though, the concept really fascinates me. The Mormon version of Christ’s Millennial reign is completely different from most other Christian flavors, in ways that make for some very interesting story possibilities. For example, we believe that there will still be unbelievers in the Millennium–that people will still be free to reject Christ and deny the existence of God, even though He lives and walks among them. What kinds of life experience would lead a person to do that? And how would they react if Christ Himself took the time to have a personal chat with them?

Then there’s the question about which audience the book should be written for. Clearly, it’s meant for people who have at least a passing familiarity with Mormonism. It would be far too tedious for both myself and the readers if I had to stop and explain every religious reference. At the same time, though, I don’t feel that it’s right to limit the audience exclusively to Mormons. The Left Behind series was written almost exclusively for Evangelical Christians, and if you try to read those books, it readily becomes apparent that there’s a wide gulf between the gentile unbelievers and the faithful–not only in the books themselves, but in the eyes of the authors as well (full disclosure: I have only read parts of the first book). I don’t want this book to be that hostile or alien to anyone, whether they’re part of the intended audience or not.

By far, though, the most difficult issue is going to be the world building. What the heck is the Millennium supposed to be like? The last time any Mormon General Authority spoke in-depth about it was sometime in the 70s–not because we’re any less fervent in our Millennialist beliefs, but because whenever a church leader talks about it over the pulpit, people tend to freak out and think that the world is about to end (literally!). And aside from the issue of research, there’s the practical difficulties of fitting it all together in a way that doesn’t strain incredulity. If the lions, wolves, and other carnivorous animals no longer hunt or kill for their food, how can the Earth have a functioning ecosystem? If resurrected beings regularly visit the Earth, what’s to stop them from doing all our work for us?

In spite of all these challenges, though (or indeed, perhaps because of them), I really, really want to write this book. In some ways, I even feel like it’s something I’m supposed to write. I already have the title picked out: Starship Lachoneus, based off of a story from the Book of Mormon about a prophet who saved his people by gathering them all together for a lengthy siege that starved out their enemies and brought his people closer to God. I also have the first chapter planned out in my head, though as for the rest of the story, I have no idea.

For now, it’s probably just going to be another side project of mine. It might take years to get it done in a way that I find satisfactory. But it’s definitely something I plan to write, starting now.

A Fascinating Moral Dilemma

For FHE* tonight, we had an interesting discussion about ethical dilemmas and moral absolutes.  It started with the following question:

If you were a prisoner of war, would you consent to have sex with the prison warden if it would set you free?

The overwhelming answer, predictably enough (at least from a bunch of Mormons), was “heck no!” So then, the teacher upped the ante by asking: what if it would free one hundred other prisoners who were scheduled to die the next day?

I was a little surprised (but not really) when I was the only one who admitted that I probably would.  After all, there’s precedent for something similar in the Book of Mormon, and a very real question of whether or not the blood of the dead prisoners would be on your hands if you didn’t.  Also, I would still consider it rape, since I draw a distinction between the act of sex and the act of saving lives–IOW, the sex itself isn’t strictly consensual; it’s the cost of saving the other prisoners.

Laying aside completely the question of whether or not you can take the warden at his word, it’s a very interesting dilemma, and one that gets at the heart of what people really believe.  The fact that so many of my Mormon peers wouldn’t sleep with the guy tells you a lot about Mormon culture.  My follow up question would be: if it meant freeing yourself and the other prisoners, would you kill the warden?  Because I’m pretty sure most of them would say “heck, yes!” even though murder is typically considered to be a more heinous sin than fornication.

But anyway, the point here is that all of this makes excellent story material.  For your characters, what are the moral lines that they absolutely will not cross?  The ones where they’re a little more fuzzy?  What, for example, would a character be like whose method for choosing between two undesirable courses of action was to flip a coin–no matter the stakes?  And what about the characters like Ender Wiggins who flip the dilemma on its head by stabbing the giant in the eye?

This is the kind of stuff I love to read, and the stuff I love to write as well.  I’m hoping to pull off a really good one in Into the Nebulous Deep, but not for a couple of chapters.  Gotta set things up, get the story moving, and give the romance a little momentum.  But once the characters are all fleshed out and the stakes are insanely high, that’s when the fun begins.  Bwahahahaha!!

Man, I would make an awesome prison warden. ;P

Image courtesy postsecret.

*FHE (Family Home Evening) is, for young single Mormons, roughly the equivalent of a college-aged church youth group meeting.