Rachel Starr Thomson

The story has been familiar since I was a child: Max, a small boy in a wolf suit, rampages through his house until his parents call him “Wild Thing!” and send him to his room without any supper.

There, his imagination sails him away to a faraway island populated by enormous wild things, who declare Max their king. “We’ll eat you up — we love you so!” they pronounce, and Max, wearing a golden crown and carrying a scepter, leads the wild things in a rumpus all over the island until he gets lonely for someone who “loves him best” — who presumably won’t eat him up — and sails home again.

His parents have left a hot bowl of soup in his room in what is either an example of grace or of too-permissive modern parenting. Or both.

Maurice Sendak’s Where the Wild Things Are has been a wildly popular children’s book since its initial publication in 1963. It fascinated me as a child, though I was never the rumpusing sort; the monsters were at once frightening and sympathetic. (Sendak himself said they were based on his Polish relatives, who were somewhat overwhelming to a small boy.) And the language is beautiful.

Spike Jonze’s 2009 film version explored the story on a much deeper level. In the movie, Max’s rampaging isn’t just the behavior of a small boy who’s feeling cooped up; it’s the latent anger, fear, and insecurity of a child who’s trying to deal with life that isn’t going the way it should. His father is gone, his mother is stressed, his sister doesn’t seem to care about him. Dysfunction is all around, not least of all in himself. Max is scared and overflowing with emotion, so he bites his mother — and horrified at his own reaction, he runs away.

When he reaches his imaginary island, Jonze’s Max meets wild things that mirror different aspects of his own heart. There’s the part of him nobody listens to, the part of him that wants to run away, the part of him that covers up rejection with bitterness; and especially there’s Karol, the angry, violent, scared-to-death-of-losing-what-he-loves-most part of him.

The irony is that Karol does what Max does: In his fear, he tries to control or lashes out. And the result, for both of them, is that everything gets worse. They drive away those they love instead of drawing them closer.

I doubt that Maurice Sendak saw deep spiritual truths in his frightening Polish relatives, but I see them in his story. In both book and movie, Max styles himself King of the Wild Things — but he isn’t really, and by the end he knows that. He’s lonely and just wants someone to love him, so he sails home to his parents and soup, narrowly avoiding being eaten. But I doubt he ever entirely escapes the wild things on the inside, any more than I can escape — or rule — the wild things in me.

Read the whole article here, on Boundless.org.

A couple of weeks ago at a writers’ meeting I had the privilege of meeting Rosine Nimeh-Mailloux, a gracious lady who grew up in Bethlehem in a Syrian Orthodox family. She’s written and published two books, one a collection of short stories based on her family’s experiences in Turkey, Lebanon, and Palestine (Mustard and Vinegar, self-published through Trafford Press), and one a novel loosely based on the story of her aunt (The Madwoman of Bethlehem, published by Second Story Press).

Rosine traded a copy of Mustard and Vinegar for one of my Pieces of Grace, and I just finished reading it yesterday. Each story brings the people and events of one family’s journey through life to life, in the way that only a naturally gifted writer can do. Most of the stories are sad, reflecting time and place, but they’re also inspiring, especially toward the end as Munira, one of the central characters, sees her children fulfill her dreams. There’s also a lot of fascinating cultural insight here, dealing with things like the oppression of women, the importance of family, and the nature of faith. Many of the stories are set in Jerusalem and Bethlehem, showing the Palestinian side of the Middle Eastern conflict from the perspective of one family.

I really enjoyed Mustard and Vinegar, probably even more because I met the author. Her desire was to capture the realities of life for her family so that her children and grandchildren wouldn’t forget. That’s a common reason for writing — I’ve considered writing my own family history, about my Mennonite ancestors back in Ukraine — but not everyone can do it so well that the stories will be meaningful and interesting to those outside the family as well.

How about you? Have you ever written stories based on your family’s life or history? Would you?

When Natalie Wickham graduated from high school, she wrestled with the question of whether or not to attend college. She had been homeschooled for nine years of her education, but the prevailing expectation was that she would pursue further schooling from some accredited institution. However, rather than follow some pre-designed plan just because everyone around her did, Wickham decided to keep her options open and trust God to provide the educational experiences and opportunities she needed.

Since graduating in 1999, Wickham has had uncountable experiences and opportunities that she never would have gained through a traditional college education. This included earning her National Certification as a Teacher of Music, and launching her own thriving private music studio. Despite having never even taken the ACT, let alone pursued a college degree, Wickham’s expertise and hands-on experience landed her in front of a graduate class at a local university. There she discovered that years of classroom lectures and hours spent studying for tests hadn’t prepared these students for the real world of teaching and running a studio.

My fellow homeschool grad Natalie Wickham has written an article called “Rethinking College” that gives several financial, social, and education reasons NOT to take the road most traveled after high school. I thought you’d enjoy reading it, so you can download it from the link below:

http://pajamaschool.com/files/HomeschoolGraduateEncouragesOtherGradsToRethinkCollege.pdf

Natalie is also the author of Pajama School, a look back on her own homeschooling years. (Review by yours truly forthcoming once I get that far down the reading pile — I am about a year behind!) Check it out here.

My latest article on Boundless is called “Predestined”:

I thought a thing I feared was going to happen. I couldn’t do a blessed thing to stop it, and I looked bleakly into the future (“I knew you’d over-think this,” my friend said; “you always over-think things like this”) and thought, as I sometimes do, about fate.

Fate. Destiny. To use a much-debated term of Christian theology, predestination. How much of my life is determined by my choices, and how much is simply going to happen to me because God wills it — call it doom or glory; it may go either way.

I Googled “destiny” and found a wealth of opinion. There’s William Jennings Bryan, winner of the famous 1925 Scopes Trial, believing firmly in our own power to direct fate: “Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice; it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.”

And there’s Albert Einstein, looking at the universe through very different eyes. He declared, “Everything is determined, the beginning as well as the end, by forces over which we have no control. It is determined for the insect, as well as for the star. Human beings, vegetables, or cosmic dust, we all dance to a mysterious tune, intoned in the distance by an invisible piper.”

In my own fearful circumstance, I knew Bryan was wrong; there was nothing, either righteous or sinful, I could do to ward off fate. But Einstein’s Invisible Piper was hardly comforting. In fact, it’s Aldous Huxley who best phrased my feelings: “My fate cannot be mastered; it can only be collaborated with and thereby, to some extent, directed. Nor am I the captain of my soul; I am only its noisiest passenger.”

With my future all uncertain, I lifted my noisy self in prayer, and between praying and morbid introspection I learned something about the future by looking into the past. In Scripture I can see the pattern of my fate, and so I can collaborate with it. In my own life I can see the hand of God bringing things together. Destiny is for me a real thing. The forces directing it have been active for a long, long time — I cannot see the Piper, perhaps, but I can certainly hear the tune.

Read the whole article here.

Fred Warren of Frederation, whose reviews are always insightful and entertaining, brought up an interesting point about By Darkness Hid yesterday:

Nature vs. Nurture: Given Achan’s terrible upbringing, it was a bit of a puzzlement how well he turned out. Kept ignorant, hungry, and hopeless, beaten and beaten-down at every turn, he was still kind, unselfish, well-spoken, and almost inhumanly persevering. There’s a strong implied argument for the power of “good genes” in this story, but there’s also credit given to divine mercy and protection. Kids with nightmarish childhoods can and often do survive and prosper, praise God, but in this story, I would have expected Achan to have internal scars as bad as those on the outside.

In this story, you might say that both protagonists are suffering a major identity crisis. Achan is named “trouble” by his guardian, and his whole life seems defined by that name. Then along comes Sir Gavin, and Achan’s identity begins to change. He becomes a squire; he starts to interact with other squires and noblemen as equals. He uncovers his bloodvoicing gift, a gift so incredibly strong that every bloodvoicer in the country can hear him and wants to know who he is. Formerly worthy only of the attention of bullies and peasants, suddenly Achan is thrust into a world where, for some reason, he matters to a lot of people.

Vrell is a young noblewoman struggling to play the role of a stray boy. As Fred put it, “Instincts feminine and patrician continually threaten to reveal her true identity.” Vrell’s identity crisis happens along an opposite arc from Achan’s: while he’s discovering what it’s like to be somebody, she’s discovering what it’s like to be nobody.

Neither arc is easy!

And yet, no matter how much their circumstances change, Achan and Vrell are not ultimately defined by them.  Some reviewers have found Achan too noble considering his background. I don’t, because ultimately, our own choices define us more than anything else. Prince Gidon is a cad and a monster because he’s chosen to be one. Achan is noble because, in the fight for survival, he’s chosen to hate injustice instead of participate in it. He doesn’t respect Gidon or Nathak or the barnyard bullies, so he chooses not to be like them. He takes the only route that will allow him to respect himself.

Vrell, likewise, chooses sides not because of her birth status but because she cares about what’s right. She may be dressed like a Stray, forced to spend time with uncultured louses, and coerced into the service of a political schemer, but she never for a moment forgets who she is or ceases to act in accordance with her own values and priorities.

And that, ultimately, is where God’s gift comes in: He gives each of us the choice, not to define our circumstances, but to define ourselves. The values we set for ourselves will shape who we become.

Thanks, Jill, for the reminder!

Pressure filled his head again.

This time the insight that followed was not dread but kinship and hope. Achan paused at the entrance to the kitchens and turned, seeking out the source of the sensation. His gaze was drawn to the armory.

A knight stood leaning against the crude structure of the armory, watching Achan with a pensive stare. He wore the uniform of the Old Kingsguard — a red, hooded cloak that draped over both arms and hung to a triangular point in the center front and back. The knight pulled his hood back to reveal white hair, tied back on top and hanging past his shoulders. A white beard dangled in a single braid that extended to his chest.

Achan Cham. His first name means “trouble”; his animal surname, referring to a mythic wild bear, marks him as a Stray — a boy without family or protection, branded by an “S” on his left shoulder, doomed to a life of servitude, beatings, and bullying in Sitna, estate of the wicked Lord Nathak. Achan has just turned sixteen and so is officially a man, but manhood promises little but heartache for him.

When Sir Gavin Lukos, the legendary “Great Whitewolf” of the Old Kingsguard, arrives in Sitna, it changes things. Achan’s position, firstly, for Sir Gavin decides to take the Stray as his squire and train him. Achan’s perceptions, secondly, for Sir Gavin’s interference provokes the unleashing of Achan’s powerful gift of bloodvoicing — telepathic communication and insight — a gift that Nathak has long taken pains to suppress. His faith, because one of the voices in his head is not human, and it tells him that the gods he has always worshiped are nothing but idols. And his future, for his duties and training as a squire bring him to the unwanted attention of Lord Nathak and his cruel protege: Prince Gidon, soon-to-be king of Er’Rets.

For Achan, the changes are a mix of gratifying and excruciatingly unwelcome, especially once Sir Gavin is sent away and Achan is taken into Gidon’s service instead. But they are only the beginning of a journey that in the end may change everything — even his name.

While Achan learns to handle a sword, Lady Averella of Carm is learning to be a boy. Gidon wants her as his bride, and she wants him as far away as possible. Nathak and Gidon are not above bribery, hostage-taking, and warfare to get what they want, so it’s judged safest for Vrell to go into hiding as a teenage boy — and a Stray, for that matter — by the name of Vrell Sparrow. The plan is working fine until Vrell’s bloodvoicing gift is co-opted into the service of Macoun Hadar, an ancient schemer with political designs of his own.

Achan and Vrell will eventually cross paths as their journeys take them far from home, drawing them both toward revelation, new purpose, and the frightening land just across a supernatural border of mist — to the shadowed, godless place called Darkness.

By Darkness Hid is making waves in the world of Christian speculative fiction. Library Journal, a prestigious industry publication, compared it to Tolkien and Donita K. Paul. It’s been nominated for a Christy Award in the “Visionary” category and also for the new Clive Staples Award. It’s not hard to see why. Jill Williamson has told a classic adventure story. If the end is a little predictable (we who read fairy tales have seen it before), the characters and plot are so engaging that we don’t care. She writes with great attention to detail, but keeps the story moving at all times: this is a cinematic novel, with a wealth of swordplay, herb lore, strange cultures, and intriguing mysteries.

Reading By Darkness Hid brought back memories of evenings as a young teen, curled up on the couch with books like The Black Cauldron or Nightpool. It’s great fun. I’m eager to see what the rest of the series has in store.

I may not have to wait long. Book 2, To Darkness Fled, has just been released by Marcher Lord Press.

It’s Christian Science Fiction and Fantasy Blog Tour time again! (Say THAT five times fast!)

This month’s book (sent to me free by the publisher for review, though as a Canadian I don’t think I’m actually required to disclose that) is By Darkness Hid by Jill Williamson. Classic storyline, great world-building, strong characterization — there’s a lot to recommend this one. Mostly it’s just a great read.

Review coming tomorrow, followed by some sort of rambling thoughts on Wednesday.

For today, links!

Jill Williamson blogs here. She also reviews novels for teens here (there’s a review of my Worlds Unseen here).

By Darkness Hid on Amazon (this is my affiliate link — thanks for clicking!).

And the other fine CSFF bloggers:

Brandon Barr
Keanan Brand
Gina Burgess
Beckie Burnham
Melissa Carswell
Valerie Comer
Karri Compton
R.L. Copple
Amy Cruson
CSFF Blog Tour
Stacey Dale
D. G. D. Davidson
Jeff Draper
Emmalyn Edwards
April Erwin
Sarah Flanagan
Andrea Graham
Tori Greene
Ryan Heart
Joleen Howell
Becky Jesse
Cris Jesse
Jason Joyner
Julie
Carol Keen
Krystine Kercher
Dawn King
Leighton
Rebecca LuElla Miller
New Authors Fellowship
John W. Otte
Crista Richey
Chawna Schroeder
Andrea Schultz
James Somers
Rachel Starr Thomson
Steve Trower
Fred Warren
Dona Watson
Phyllis Wheeler
KM Wilsher

It’s that time of year again! That time that creeps up on me when I least expect it, bowling me over (and straight toward the nearest armchair) with the desire to plunge into nostalgia, perspective, and humor.

Yes, it’s that time of year when I spend every evening for a week reading comic strip collections. Comics fascinate me. They are so simple, yet their combinations of pictures and words can be brilliantly expressive. They make me laugh, mostly at myself. They also, surprisingly often, make me think.

“Cathy” by Cathy Guisewite is one of my favourites (although I’ve never read past the year 2000, and it doesn’t interest me as much now that Cathy has married her long-time love interest Irving. For me a lot of the humour came from the perspectives on single life!). Years ago my sister printed out every Cathy strip from 1996-2000, and every other year or so I curl up and read through them. The older I get, the funnier they are. And now they’re also nostalgic, as the strips touch on current fads and events (Y2K, the rise of the Atkins’ Diet, various fashion trends).

My other favourites? Peanuts is number one. I’m also a fan of Calvin and Hobbes, Bloom County, and Pogo. And yes, every one of my favourite strips has ceased running in newspapers. It makes me sad.

But nothing beats an evening in an armchair with a comics collection anyway :).

Your turn! Do you read comics? What are your favourites? And what other reading habits do you have that might surprise others?

P.S. You can read “Cathy” here, from ’96 to the present: www.gocomics.com/cathy/

What if “go into all the world and preach the gospel to all nations” was only the beginning of the Great Commission?

What if Jesus, in taking on human form, was not just becoming human but was also becoming naharam, a class of beings to which humans merely belong?

What if God called you to take the gospel beyond Planet Earth to a universe more alive than you’d ever dreamed?

Arana’s Visitor by Julie Rollins explores those questions in an imaginative, exciting story. Book 1 of the Vadelah Chronicles  (“vadelah” is an alien word roughly translating to “apostle”), it opens when Panagyra, a member of a bird-like species called the phantera, crash lands on earth. But the story quickly shifts its focus to David Decker, an ordinary college student who tries his best to live out his faith with integrity — even if that means showing hospitality to Panagyra and putting his life on the line to protect the naive alien from harm.

David and his roommate Todd hide “Gyra” in their apartment as long as they can, but a malicious agency with a hand in Gyra’s crash landing is now seeking to capture him. The three become fugitives in an exciting race to send Gyra home, but in a terrifying moment, David finds himself trapped on Gyra’s ship with the badly wounded phantera, heading to a world he’d never imagined existed.

On Arana, Gyra’s home planet, David discovers that God has been directing his steps. David is the prophesied vadelah, the one who will bring the message of Christ not only to Gyra’s peaceful race but also to the universe’s most depraved and terrifying peoples.

Julie Rollins is a homeschool mom who self-publishes her work. I met her online through a self-publishing loop, and she offered to send me a copy of Arana’s Visitor. I’m glad she did! The story is creative and well-written, with likable characters, a fascinating premise, and some tear-jerking moments. It’s light on “science,” making “science fiction” a bit of a misnomer, but the cultures and creatures in Julie’s work are well developed. She also does fantastic artwork. For example:

Phantera - Julie Rollins

Doloom - Underwater Cave on Arana by Julie Rollins

Panagyra and David - Julie Rollins

You can view more artwork on Julie’s site, order her books, or even download Arana’s Visitor in its entirety for free. Check it out — it’s a great introduction to the series. The link is www.julierollins.com.

Note: This is a very family friendly book, but it does address serious issues of sin and immorality, especially on earth — one pivotal scene revolves around abortion, one Peretti-style showdown deals with New Age practices, and other major modern issues are addressed. Parents may want to screen or read this with their very young children.

True confession time: I didn’t actually pull your names out of a hat. I pulled them out of my book bag.

And the winner is … Lynn! Her review of Blink of an Eye by Ted Dekker is posted on GoodReads at this link: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/7297720

Lynn, I’ll be contacting you for your address so I can put your copy of Raven’s Ladder in the mail :).

Thanks to all who commented and entered!

On another note, it’s a momentous day for two reasons: it’s my 27th birthday, and I am now finished the Spring Semester at Write@Home, meaning that where I used to have 60 papers to mark each week, now I don’t. (I still have a few, as I’m teaching an essay course that runs for three more weeks.) This means mucho free time and the launch of my usual summer agenda: Everything Else.

This summer, that especially means finishing The Advent. It also means concentration on several big editing projects, taking a copywriting course, learning to drive more traffic to my Web site, and touring a whole new Soli Deo Gloria Ballet production called Kyrie.

Yup, the way I take time off work is to do other work. But I’m very blessed because all of this work is interesting and challenging and significant in its own way, and how many people can say that about their jobs? I bless the Lord every morning for leading me into this. And I pray He’ll guide and direct just how I use it.

Blessings today!