Being inventive is not about real life; it’s an imperfect mirror, and writers bend reality. For me, that’s about creating a happy ending—or at least a satisfying one. I don’t dislike real stories, and I find real-world history fascinating. If I’m looking for a miserable ending, I’ll read history, where there are plenty of examples. 

In fiction, however, I like happy endings. I can endure a character going through seven kinds of hell, but I want them to win at the end. I know that’s not a real story, but it can be a true story in a moral sense. In the real world, bad people get away with evil things; in fiction, I want an uplifting conclusion. Still, a story can be more than simple entertainment. Like a traditional fairy tale—a moral fable at its core. 

Consider the parables Jesus told. The most well-known ones are not overt spiritual messages. Some, like the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus, are—but others, such as the parable of the Prodigal Son or the Good Samaritan, tell a story. While these could be real events, plucked verbatim from reality, we can’t know—it’s more probable that these tales are fictional. It really doesn’t matter either way because they are true stories.

Christian fiction, for me, is not a typical Hollywood adaptation of a Bible story. The kind that plays fast and loose with the plot, inventing things that never happened and ignoring the source material. Instead, it is fiction akin to Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings or works by C.S. Lewis—accessible to people of faith or none, yet remaining true to a Biblical foundation. Just as Jesus’ parables point to him, so should good Christian fiction.

Regular readers of my newsletter know I write stories inspired by my dreams, which can be found on X/Twitter and Telegram and in doing so, I’m aiming for a subtle, foundational approach to my fairy tales. Most become Daily Flash Fiction stories, though I save some narrative outlines for more in-depth exploration. For example, my current project, titled King in the Dark, is a prequel to an intended series called The Spectral Detective. The banner for my Newsletter is an interpretation of this idea.

Dreams are important in the Bible, and anyone interested in why and how can read my good friend Dave Hayes’ book: Dream Interpretation Made Simple. Still, it’s fair to say that, despite often hearing about the importance of “visions in the night” from the Bible itself—read during Sunday services—I don’t recall ever being told that my dreams matter in a sermon.

In Jen Porter’s book The Refuge, a free-to-read prequel for her Xianova Chronicles series, dreams are explored as a means of guidance and revelation. The story raises the question of whether God uses dreams to communicate and how to interpret those dreams and feelings.

When I hit F11—usually by accident—I go fullscreen. However, this feature is essential for watching streaming content. F11 fullscreen focuses my attention on the text or the film playing; it’s about pushing past distractions that clutter the field of view.

Focusing on dreams requires a similar mental approach, and to capture a dream on waking, I find it involves a kind of F11 focus—recording the dream before the waking world blurs it, and I forget. Some dreams do stand out. I can remember dreams from years, even decades ago, but that’s a 99-to-1 kind of ratio. By far, most are not that memorable and slip away—many almost at once. Capturing them becomes an art, but I find my dream journal to be a worthwhile discipline.

My stories, as entertaining as I find them, are not the primary focus; I am listening for the message in my dreams. |

About | X (Twitter) | Telegram

| Three Families; Three Deadly Dreams.

by Jen Porter

"The Refuge" by Jen Porter is a captivating dystopian sci-fi novel, serving as a prequel to the Xianova Chronicles. Set in a future where humanity resides in domed cities governed by rigid purity laws, the story follows characters who flee to the treacherous Faquir jungle to protect their families. 

Central to the narrative is the theme of listening to God’s voice through dreams, as characters grapple with divine guidance that shapes their perilous journey. Porter’s fast-paced prose and vivid world-building blend intense action with deep spiritual introspection, exploring faith, family, and survival.

For fans of books like 'The Hunger Games' and 'No Less Days series', its emphasis on divine dreams offers a unique, thought-provoking essential difference within the familiar landscape of the dystopian genre.

 

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From the opening of 'The Spectral Dectective’ Prequel:

'King in the Dark’Prologue: Nachtgeist April 3rd, 1945 | 

Captain Arthur King gripped the stone. The cold bit through his fingers, though his gloves held. Schloss Nachtgeist—Castle Nightghost—loomed in the night, tall, perched on a rocky outcrop high above the Thuringian Forest—Germany’s heartland, some two hundred miles southwest of Berlin. Slotted windows pricked by occasional light. His breath fogged and vanished into the night. Below, a remote valley veiled in mist, the trees slick with drizzle. Behind, a C-47 Dakota dropped them by parachute at the tree line just after 20:30, half an hour into full darkness. Seven miles of woodland terrain crossed, 90 minutes in, and now six dark shapes moved against darker rock, then stone—medieval masonry. Centuries of weather widened the joints between the blocks. Black woollen caps obscured their blackened faces. Their ropes scraped ancient mortar. Mountaineering pitons driven in, the spikes held firm. Feet skidded across the rain-slicked grades of the castle’s outer wall. No one spoke. The wind carried noise. The sound of Germans shouting, orders and complaints. Smoke, too, and something else—acrid, like burning cloth and blood. King’s eyes adjusted.

Beyond the battlements, within the fortress, bedlam bloomed. Floodlights stuttered. Soldiers dragged crates, slammed truck doors, and tossed rolled documents into fire barrels. Retreat. Panic. They ran. The US Army lay a day’s push to the west; from the east, the Soviets edged closer. Someone inside screamed—short, cut off. King led from the front. He raised a fist. The others froze. His op and his call. His glory or his shame. Five shadows obeyed and crouched low against the ramparts, weapons held tight, suppressed Stens and Thompsons tucked close, Welrods and M1911S ready as backups.“Tom, scout the courtyard,” he whispered. Lieutenant Thomas Grant, Office of Strategic Services—OSS, and King’s junior nodded and vanished into the night.

© C J Charles 2025

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