This book was born, indirectly, out of my discovery of the Audio Theatre Central podcast. This team does an awesome job of reviewing family-friendly audio drama--a genre I was already interested in but have become much more excited about since listening to their reviews. As I was listening through the podcasts, I found that they mentioned a couple of Christian kids' audio dramas that are available to stream free online. 

Since I have a lot of time to listen while I'm working, I began checking out some of these shows, and in one of them, I came across an episode that was modeled after the parable of the Good Samaritan. After listening to the episode, a couple of ideas and questions kept coming back to me.

First, the conflict in the show was framed as the popular group (priest/Levite) vs. the unpopular, rather nerdy kid (Samaritan). This worked well for the format, but I found myself wondering how I would choose to frame the conflict if I were retelling the story. Who would be the Samaritans in our day? What kind of person would we be shocked to hear Jesus make a hero?

Second, I realized that I had never tried to play out the Good Samaritan story either in my imagination or on paper. This was surprising because I tend to love the parts of stories (books, movies, etc.) that involve taking care of someone who is hurt or sick-- which meant this parable was perfect material for a book I would enjoy. 

After letting both of those thoughts rattle around in my imagination, I started writing, and the result was Bridgers!

My initial musings on re-creating the Jew-Samaritan conflict in the modern world led me quickly to the character of DaVonte. I knew he needed to be a boy from a rough neighborhood who would be at least slightly intimidating to a middle-class churchgoing crowd. As I tried to work out his motivation for stopping to help, I was reminded of Jesus' discussion with the woman at the well in John 4, where He tells the Samaritan woman, "You worship what you do not know." This became the basis for DaVonte's slight but powerful understanding of God's love, which in turn allowed me to keep him out of some of the most dangerous parts of his environment. At the same time, I knew I couldn't make him too clean or give him too much spiritual insight, so his view of love--although sometimes imperfect--became key to the way he filtered his world.

The next question after "why did he stop?" was "why didn't the others?" The easy answers were pride and fear, and both opened up so many possibilities that I didn't have to look any farther.

I debated at first whether the priest and Levite characters should be actual leaders in the church (for example, a pastor), but since I had made DaVonte a teenager, I chose to stay consistent and make the others teens who would be looked up to or hold some sort of leadership role among their peers in the church.

From the beginning, I wanted Peyton to be the prideful and self-absorbed foil to DaVonte, but in order to be in the position of authority and respect that he held, he also had to be good at covering it up. Although through most of the book he's framed with Natalie, who he's not trying to impress, I also tried to give frequent glimpses of his tendency to manipulate both the other teens and the adults around him.

Levi began as a stereotypical timid and fearful character, but I knew early on that I couldn't leave him in that state. Unlike Peyton, Levi was truly trying to follow God in spite of the insecurities that held him back, and since my mind had been bent toward the question of "what happens next?" from a very early stage, I decided to explore through Levi the difference that honest repentance and surrender can make, even after our biggest failures.

Writing the first chapter from DaVonte's first-person perspective was initially an exercise in exploring his character and his world. Since his environment and experience were nothing like my own background, the first-person viewpoint helped me to connect with and understand him in a way that a third-person viewpoint could not. His unexpected role in the story also made his ability to explain his feelings and his choices more important than if he had been acting out a predictable part. After writing a few chapters in his voice, I found that I really enjoyed working with his fresh perspective, his sense of humor, and his unusual choice of metaphors.

The use of the very distant third-person objective view* for Peyton was initially a shortcut because I was focusing on his speech and didn't want to interrupt my train of thought to write the other half of the conversation coming through the phone. I decided to start by writing the chapter as though I was recording from a movie camera and couldn't capture anything beyond what could be seen or heard. It seemed to work well, and I felt that bringing the perspective in closer to give Peyton's thoughts and attitudes would have either diluted or hit too hard on the impression that his words and actions produced.

I initially considered writing Levi's chapters somewhere between the two in a close third-person but ended up deciding against it for a couple of reasons. First, I wanted to include some information that Levi wouldn't have seen, heard, or noticed--for example, bits of conversation between Asher and Pastor Allison after Levi had left the room. Second, I was so comfortable with and sympathetic toward Levi's character that I was afraid if I dug too deeply into his thoughts and feelings, he'd end up stealing the spotlight. So in Levi's case, pulling back to a movie-camera view helped me exercise some restraint and keep his early chapters from overwhelming the story.

*I only learned the name of this viewpoint when I searched to see if it was a recognized technique. An objective point-of-view is different from the better-known omniscient point-of-view in that instead of being able to see inside everyone's head, you can't see inside anyone's head.

This is a tough question because I love almost all of the characters I create. For the main characters, it's a pretty close race, but I think Levi comes out slightly ahead of DaVonte. For the secondary characters, Asher wins hands-down, although Brett has a lot of potential, and Ms. Sondra's small part was really fun.

My favorite scene is the aftermath of the confrontation in the lunchroom (chapter 22), where Levi and DaVonte really start to talk. I knew it was going to be good when I got these two together, but it turned out even better than I imagined. Levi's reference to smelling "like a milk-drenched meatloaf" continues to make me laugh out loud. I also really liked the way DaVonte's conversations with Brett, Levi's talk with his father, and the final confrontation with Peyton played out.

The scene where Levi stumbles across Brett (chapter 5) was by far the most challenging scene in the book. The reasons: 1) Levi had to be on his own, therefore no dialogue, and 2) I'd chosen the distant, objective point of view, therefore no interior monologue. The entire scene, apart from a few very short bits of Levi talking to himself, was action and description with absolutely no commentary. Neither of those is my strongest suit, so writing this scene really stretched me.

The other scene that took some special care was DaVonte's introduction to himself and his world in chapter 1. It was a difficult balance to keep true to DaVonte's perspective as the narrator and not to seem to condone the sins he had written off as no big deal.

Always!

I usually start out with a core set of characters, a world and a theme I want to explore, and a basic idea of where I want to take the plot. (In this case, the first part of the plot was already in place because of the parable I was using.) But as I'm working through these basic ideas, I often discover character motivations, ideas for sub-plots, or symbols and motifs that weren't in the original story concept.

Here are a couple of the big ones:

Joan of Arc

The boys' recurring reference in the last third of the book hit me out of nowhere! I hadn't planned a slogan or symbol or anything of the kind, but when I reached for an image for DaVonte to use in painting the improbable picture of Levi standing up to a crowd, Joan of Arc was the first that came to mind. I brushed her off and went looking for a better one. Besides the fact that she made a bit of a strange comparison, I knew she would probably never enter the mind of a tenth-grade boy. 

When nothing else came to mind, I did a quick search for famous warriors. None of the names I could find had the kind of instant association I was looking for. I considered changing to a famous speaker, but that lost some of the fearless quality I had wanted. I needed something that would spring to mind quickly, but maybe I could use a more obscure reference if I related it back to their schoolwork. A quick search showed that world history was not an unusual course for tenth grade. Joan of Arc was still rattling around in my mind. So maybe use Joan of Arc and let them laugh over the silly comparison. That might work. I plugged in Joan of Arc with a quick apology and explanation and thought I was done with her.

Then Levi admired the way DaVonte had stood up to his friends. It was exactly the scene DaVonte had been trying to imagine in reverse, and the comparison was still fresh in their minds. They went back to her. Again. And again. As an example of bravery. As an acknowledgment of the possible consequences. As a symbol of their commitment. And when they crossed swords with fish sticks to cement their bond (another completely unplanned moment), I had created what may well be the strangest secret signal in the world and given myself one of the most unexpected moments in my own writing history.

Asher and Natalie

For the first two thirds of the book, these two were my most unexpected treat. In the very early planning stage, they hadn't even existed, and they were added entirely for practical reasons--Natalie to illustrate Peyton's total self-absorption and Asher to ask questions and carry on conversations that Levi would have let drop.

Because of the distant point of view I had chosen, dialogue was key to Levi's and Peyton's scenes, which meant it made sense to continue using them, but I never expected to love them as much (Asher) or give them as significant a role (Natalie) as ended up happening.

Although most of this book dealt with issues and situations that I've never experienced directly, there are a few small items that were inspired by my own life.

I can relate in some ways to Levi's struggle with fear and shyness, although not to their crippling severity. 

Pastor Allison's advice about learning to give up on your own power and let God take control of your areas of weakness is a lesson God's been teaching me for the last several years.

As an Iowan by birth, the confusion over Iowa/Idaho is something I've heard multiple times.

Also, my family can attest to the fact that Natalie's comment to Peyton, "not everyone memorizes your exact word choice the way you do," is something I probably need to hear from time to time!

• Levi's name and its connection to his character was either entirely accidental or purely subconscious. When I realized I had done it, I immediately tried to change the name, but by that point, it had worked its way into several scenes and conversations, and I couldn't find another name I liked as well. Eventually, I gave up and let it stand.
• When I finished the first three chapters, I sat back and asked myself, "What have I done?" I had just committed to a story with three main characters--one that I could scarcely relate to, one that I didn't even like, and one that I was going to have to force myself to hold in check. I almost gave up on the idea right then, but fortunately--if you enjoyed the book--I didn't!