Writing the right book
One of the unique challenges of this book is the constant need to remind myself of the book’s mandate — to introduce atheism to a mostly non-atheist readership that’s unfamiliar but interested.
There are other audiences, including atheists who want to know more about their own worldview. But I can’t really write for them/you. The book will be a better contribution (and fulfill the contract) if I write for the interested layperson outsider and allow the secondary audiences to peek over their shoulders.
This was easy in the history section, but I’m running into sentence by sentence challenges in the current section — why atheists are atheists.
Though the book might convince someone to rethink their own perspective, it’s essential that I not write for that purpose. I’m describing a process others have been through without necessarily requiring the reader to (DING!) stare into the mirror.
But there’s the problem, you see. For many atheists, part of the process involves the growing realization that many religious beliefs are not only false but dishonest and harmful. If I pretend otherwise, I haven’t really described the reality of it. I need to capture that without making the reader feel besieged, to allow them to keep reading, keep reading.
I actually have a lot of practice at this, but it’s slow going, and the next quarter deadline (Sept 3) doesn’t seem to give a damn. And ignoring my timer while blogging doesn’t help one bit.
Q: Mad at God, are ya?
We all have reasons for coming to nontheistic conclusions. But there’s no shortage of theories from non-atheists about why we are really atheists.
Q: What are some of the myths you’ve heard about why atheists are atheists?
Short replies are smiled upon — only because of my current time crunch, not because you aren’t interesting. No no, really, you’re a great person. It’s not you, it’s me.
The end of history
Okay, I’m ready to be done with the historical bits. I love it, but I’m ready to get to the here and now, the big questions.
Had the pleasure of dancing with some of my faves here in the home stretch — Lucretius, Ingersoll, Russell. If you’ve read The Swerve, you know why I heart Lucretius. Unbelievable story of the rediscovery and dissemination of De rerum natura (On the Nature of Things), one of the most influential books in history. I’ll tell you later.
Imagine living in a time when so much is yet to be learned that you can write a book that’s essentially titled What Stuff is Like.
Monday’s Deadline #1, the first 25% (38,000 words) due. Currently just over 35K. I hate writing by weight.
Ding!
Helpful believers
Two days working on a thread about unorthodox believers — Erasmus, Spinoza, Paine, Jefferson — whose work has been important in freethought history.
Gave me the opportunity to dig back into a book that simply drops my jaw every time — Erasmus’s The Praise of Folly. I’m convinced that nothing but friends in papal places, the fact that he lampoons everyone else before gutting the church, and hiding behind the skirts of satire kept him from execution. The book is now credited with sparking the Reformation eight years later. And Erasmus was a Catholic monk. (Well I guess Luther was too.)
Best of all, it’s damn funny and reads like it was written last month. If you haven’t read it, do.
Another great find: “Jefferson’s Bible” at Beliefnet, complete with icons to show where he cut out the miracles and other supernaturalisms. Pretty jarring to see John 3:16 lying on the Oval Office floor.
Questioning assumptions
Thanks again for all of your brilliant help with these questions! The book will be much richer for it.
A few commenters yesterday said they’ve never had to question religious assumptions because they were not raised religiously.
Remember the Ernestine Rose quote I wrote about in March — that all children are atheists and would remain so if religion weren’t inculcated into their minds? I address that again in the book. I was born an implicit atheist, but it’s a pretty meaningless label until I make an active decision. And part of that process involves questioning the religious assumptions around me.
Those assumptions didn’t just come from my parents — in fact, very few of them did. Even kids raised entirely without religion in the home are still confronted with religious assumptions in the culture. The process of actively choosing to call myself an atheist includes a process of questioning those assumptions, no matter what my upbringing.
(Ding.)
Q: AHA! moments
Two questions today — answer either or both. The temptation to write an essay will be strong. Resist. Just gimme a tasty tweet.
1. What was the first realization that got you questioning religious assumptions?
2. What was the biggest AHA! moment on your path to atheism?
(Please share this widely. The more input the better. Remember that religious assumptions can come from the culture as well, not just from your upbringing.)
