It is a natural thing, at least for most people. You read a great book. The first thing you want to know is: who wrote this? Who is responsible for what I just read?
If it sucks, you look at the dude or chick on the back flap and say, good Lord, who let this person near a word processor? You remember that name, and the next time the author comes up in conversation, you passionately grimace in disgust and tell the whole room, at the top of your lungs, to never read a book by that person again.
Or perhaps you love it, and we can truly love a book like no other work of art. It is the rule of quality and quantity of time. You spend hours with the story, the characters, the ideas, the voice of the author. A five minute conversation can be impactful, or even one that lasts an hour and a half, but a twenty-four hour conversation will connect you with a person for life. That is a book.
And when you read a book like that, when it connects to your very soul, you’ve been changed, just a little. Just like a close friend changes you, impacts you for good or ill, a book does the same.
You want to know who did that to you.
You can’t help it. None of us can. The reality is that the author has put his soul into that story in his own unique way, and it is right that you blame her for what she’s done to you.
Tolkien’s ideas and history and experience are all through the stories of Middle Earth. Lewis constructed Narnia out of his own struggles and spiritual discoveries. Hemingway and Faulkner and Thoreau and Anne Rice and Stephen King and Louis L’amour, and anyone that sits down alone to tell a story they are so obsessed with that not writing it will drive them insane, they all shape their books. When we look at their books, their creations, we want to know more about the author. We can only pretend the creation is all there is for so long. Sooner or later we look for someone to praise or blame.
Just like when I hike to the top of a mountain in northern Georgia, and I gaze out on a clear blue sky while surrounded by peaks and the vastness of this Earth, when I consider the enormity of the universe and the wonders therein, my heart turns to the God who created it and I want to know more about Him. Who made this? Who is responsible for this? Or more importantly, when something happens that I do not understand, a tragedy or an inexplicable success, something that shatters my heart or makes me laugh or cry with joy, I catch a glimpse of a larger story. Who is telling this story? Who’s story is it? For some this can lead to worship, others to anger, but it is who we are.
Made in God’s image, we are made to create and to enjoy creations. We are made to connect the creation with the creator. My advice, therefore, is to put yourself into your creation, pour your very soul into it. Make it yours. It will scare you, I guarantee it. It will hurt then when people reject your creation, but you will also find others that pull your creation close like a long lost friend and you will know that you have changed a world, just a little.
Peace.