Rachel Starr Thomson

Readers of the young adult fantasy Starlighter will recognize the opening scene of Bryan Davis’s upcoming Masters and Slayers — that feeling of “we’ve been here before” is more than just deja vu. Masters and Slayers is the first book in the “Tales of Starlight” series published by AMG/Living Ink, a fantasy series for adults that shares a world, characters, and an overarching plot with Zondervan’s YA series “Dragons of Starlight.”

This time, as the book opens in an arena where the most gifted warriors of Major 4 compete, our attention is focused not on Jason Masters — hero of Starlighter — but on Adrian, his older brother, who is about to give up the glory and title of champion for the sake of principle and principle alone: his nearest competitor is a woman, Marcelle, and Adrian does not fight women. He steps down, and in that one act of character reveals to anyone who cares to look that he really is a hero.

A hero worth his salt, Adrian has greater things than tournaments on his mind. He is preparing to follow a series of mysterious clues to a portal that will take him to another world: Starlight, the dragon planet, where kidnapped humans have been held as slaves for generations. The passionate and revenge-hungry Marcelle goes with him, along with two more unexpected companions (sorry, no more details — I’m trying to avoid spoilers!). Their goal is to free the slaves — but first they must survive a conspiracy on their own planet, find their way through the portal, encounter a benevolent dragon who rules the Northlands of Starlight, and learn to work together before mistrust and mistakes destroy their hopes before they can even begin to be realized.

Masters and Slayers is a far more adult story than Starlighter. Marcelle, who avoids being the stereotypical “headstrong female” by virtue of her fears and deep frailties, tries her hardest to fight, dress, and guard herself like a man because of the serial-killer-style murder of her mother. While Adrian’s chivalry is noted and upheld, the very opposite attitudes of some villains (and the dragon habit of breeding their human slaves) gets more than a passing mention. The violence is also more realistic (read: gorier) and the villains more obviously despicable. But Masters and Slayers isn’t just “adult” in the sense of earning a higher content rating. It’s also deeper, more thought-provoking, and more disturbing in good ways — the kinds of ways that provoke us to compassion and force us to look more clearly at ourselves.

Had I not read Starlighter first, I might have found some of the plot intersections annoying (too many unexplained actions and dangling threads), but overall I thought the juxtaposition of the series works well — at least, so far! The worlds of Starlight and Major 4 are better developed in Masters and Slayers, and in my opinion, are noticeably cooler. I still found the mix of science and fantasy hard to settle into (our heroes wield swords, arrows, and axes, but local government forces use DNA to convict criminals; video comes into play, as does genome mapping, yet the setting is medieval in most other ways).

My overall opinion? I read Masters and Slayers in a matter of hours because Starlighter hooked me on the story enough to make me want to know what else is happening in it. After reading M&S, I’m even more hooked. I have questions, I care about certain characters, and I want closure. I was going to write that as a negative — I didn’t feel like Masters and Slayers offered much closure in anything. But when it comes right down to it, that just means I really want to read the next book. Recommended for discerning readers who enjoy fantasy and don’t mind tackling tough issues that don’t have easy answers.

In the village of Tebron, surrounded by forests and peaceful mountains, Joran works as an apprentice blacksmith because his unusually sharp ability to mindspeak with animals has made forestry, hunting, and fishing too painful an occupation. He is painfully aware of his difference from his brothers, whom he loves but is unlike. Joran is slender, gentle, contemplative, and quietly desperate, wishing above all things to feel true happiness with his beautiful wife Charris, to feel that he belongs.

When Charris betrays Joran, he sends her away in a fit of passionate anger. But then come the dreams, tormenting him night after night: dreams in which he climbs to a sandcastle above the sea where Charris is trapped in ice, and he struggles to free her while sweeping blackness clutches at the back of his neck and the lunatic moon looks on and laughs. And then come the encounters: the great wolf watching him from the fringes of the wood, the crazy old goose woman with her riddles, and finally the most frightening encounter of all — the discovery that Charris, sent home to her relatives, has disappeared into thin air.

Unable to live any longer with himself and without answers, Joran sets off on a journey, joined by the giant wolf Ruyah, that will take him to the ends of the earth — to the Hovel of the Moon, the Palace of the Sun, the Cave of the Wind, and finally the Unimaginable Sea — and to the depths of his own dreams. His is a search for his wife, for the truth, for answers, and for peace. The way is made bearable by Ruyah’s wise, playful, and always caring presence, a presence that means far more than Joran can imagine.

The Wolf of Tebron by C.S. Lakin is being hailed as a modern-day fairy tale, which it certainly is at heart, though its characterization is richer than a typical fairy tale’s. Joran’s struggles with himself are intensely human. In an irony that struck me as particularly true to the Christian life, Joran does not want to be a hero and in fact would not be one were it not for Ruyah pushing, leading, and saving him at every step. Every spark of heroism in him rises in response to the heroism of another. At the same time, he is a likable hero, with pain and struggles that are poignant and relatable.

Not a simple allegory, The Wolf of Tebron nonetheless employs allegory and symbol in great measure, and Ruyah’s wise sayings — “It is said among wolves . . .” — come from sources as varied as C.S. Lewis, G.K. Chesterton, and Carl Jung. (Chesterton, I think, would have enjoyed being a wolf.) It’s a book meant to inspire thought. Its story of redemption is thoroughly Christian at heart, though some of the allusions to life as a dream, reality as a matter of the will, and looking inside yourself could be just as easily interpreted through a non-Christian lens. It’s also a thoroughly enjoyable adventure story, with exotic settings, unpredictable turns, a terrifying enemy, and unexpected humour.

Lakin’s work is stylistically beautiful. The exotic locales are vivid, from dark north to burning desert to misty jungle: I found myself looking forward to each leg of Joran’s journey just so I could experience another part of her story world. The Wolf of Tebron is the first in The Gates of Heaven series from Living Ink Books (AMG Publishers). I’m looking forward to The Map Across Time, Book 2 in the series.

NOTE: I received an ARC of this book free of charge.

Content Warning: I usually write reviews of family-friendly books, so I wanted to give a heads up on this one: this story is for mature readers only, as it deals with heavy subject matter and contains some strong language and other content not for children.

The Madwoman of Bethlehem is a beautifully written story of abuse, family, and the triumph of grace in the midst of more than one kind of madness. Amal is a resident of the Oasis for Troubled Women, an insane asylum in Bethlehem where she has lived for nine years. The catch? She’s not mad. When a confrontation with one of the dangerous inmates leads to severe injuries, months in a hospital bed and encounters with a kind nurse and an old friend lead Amal to reflect on the twisted path that brought her here and made her who she is.

Second Story Press sent me a copy of The Madwoman of Bethlehem after I reviewed Rosine Nimeh-Mailloux’s first book, Mustard and Vinegar. The skill shown in that collection of short stories is fully realized in this novel, which was inspired, like Mustard and Vinegar, by the experiences of the author’s family. This book is a journey through the injustices of life, through a culture that in many ways aids those injustices, and especially through the mind of a woman — a very real woman who tries to be a saint but is, after all, a sinner; a woman who by turns trusts and berates God; a woman who suffers alienation and abuse but is finally set on the road toward new life by the love and friendship of a shining few.

This is a thought-provoking work, beautiful in places, ugly in others, but true to the plight of man and pointing to our need to change and transcend both our cultures and ourselves. I read all 364 pages in two sittings during a weekend visit home. Recommended for discerning readers.

Jason Masters is trained to be a hero, a peasant whose skill takes him to the top of warrior training. With his brother Adrian, he grows up fighting homemade dragons and “rescuing” his best friend, Elyssa, from all manner of peril. But growing up brings unwelcome realities with it. His oldest brother, Frederick, disappears, and Adrian’s involvement with an underground movement that believes in real dragons places him in constant danger. Elyssa’s unusual gifts bring her under the scrutiny of witch hunters, who are foiled only when she’s dragged away in the night by a man-eating mountain bear. And Jason’s dreams of glory are brought down a few pegs when he’s appointed bodyguard to the corrupt, selfish Governor Prescott.

Life is not looking up.

But then Adrian tells Jason where he’s going — to find the gateway to the dragon world, another planet where, rumour has it, humans are kept as slaves to the fire-breathing beasts. Adrian gives Jason a message — from Frederick — and a mission. Murder, political hijinks, and the rescue of Elyssa from the dungeon (not from a mountain bear’s cave) turns life around again, and suddenly Jason finds himself on a dangerous journey to rescue the slaves from the dragon world and prove himself a true hero after all.

Meanwhile, on the dragon world, a slave girl named Koren memorizes the Creator’s Code, dreams of freedom, tells stories to dramatic and mysterious effect, and hopes that rumours of a home world to which escape might be possible are true. Events — and her own storytelling gift — soon promise to reveal the truth. But they also threaten Koren’s life, and more, her heart, as she’s drawn into the service of a dragon prince whose power is seductive and deadly.

Starlighter is an engaging story, made especially so by its cast of characters. It’s a clean read, appropriate for any reader who can handle a little (non-gory) violence and scariness. Davis writes with good humour and plenty of heart. The story is at times thought-provoking, and I’m looking forward to seeing where the characters’ journey takes them.

This just in from Becky Miller:

Now that the World Cup is over and we’re at the mid-point of summer, what a perfect time to carve out some quiet moments to read! As part of the Clive Staples Award, we’ve designated July Read Christian Speculative Fiction Month. I’d love to have you help spread the word.

And speaking of the CSA, voting  for this readers’ choice award will begin in August. A number of the nominations are books CSFF has featured, and several are books by CSFF members. What an opportunity this gives us to draw attention to quality Christian speculative fiction.

Currently we’re posting introductions of the the nominations at the award site – http://clivestaplesaward.wordpress.com/ . Stop by and take a look, then tell others. Special point of emphasis: to be eligible to participate, voters must have read at least two of the nominations.

If you’re a fan of spec fic (or just want a good story to read!), I encourage you to check out the nominations, which Becky has laid out with lots of intriguing detail, and head for your local library or bookstore. There’s some great reading here, including several books that I’ve reviewed over the last year — Karen Hancock’s The Enclave, Jill Williamson’s By Darkness Hid, and George Bryan Polivka’s Blaggard’s Moon, among others.

(I already know which book I’ll be voting for — any guesses?)

The story begins at the Red and Black, a Communist coffee shop in Portland, Oregon, where Matt (our hero) and someone he thinks is Jesus are just hanging out. Enter the Apostle Peter, a.k.a. “Pete,” who recognizes Matt’s Jesus as an imposter and quickly instigates a fistfight. Imaginary Jesus takes off running, Pete and Matt take off after him, and thus begins a story that’s funny, unpredictable, and would be irreverent if it didn’t actually have so much respect for the real Jesus, as He was in history and as He is in Matt’s life — and in ours.

As Matt, Pete, and Daisy the Talking Donkey chase Imaginary Jesus across Portland in an effort to unmask him and help Matt get back to the real Jesus — the one he actually loves, and who really loves him — they run into a host of other Imaginary Jesuses, figments of imagination and theological constructs that sometimes come close to being like Jesus but aren’t Him. They include such memorable figures as Magic 8-Ball Jesus (good for quick guidance, but rather predictable), Testosterone Jesus (who mostly goes to men’s mountain retreats and watches Braveheart for inspiration), and Portland Jesus (who likes art, social justice, jeans, and house churches).

Matt’s journey also takes him back to the first century, to locales all over Portland, into encounters with a pair of Mormon missionaries, a former prostitute, and the Atheists Bible Study, and finally into contact with an event in his life that hurt him deeply and led to the creation of his Imaginary Jesus in the first place. It’s witty, but also surprisingly moving and insightful at times — the honest, if quirky, journey of a man struggling to reclaim an authentic faith and reestablish relationship with a real Lord.

And that’s where my caution comes in: this book should not be read as a theological treatise on “the real Jesus,” but as the spiritual journey of a real Christian. Every one of Matt’s Imaginary Jesuses shares characteristics with the real thing, and this is where things can get hazy: this isn’t a book about discovering objective truth about who Christ is. It’s a book about getting out of our comfort zones and self-made safety nets and seeking to encounter Christ in our own lives. It is autobiography. It is not theology.

Also, it pokes fun at just about all of us. I don’t think it actually crosses the line into poking fun at God (the real one), but be prepared to squirm a little.

End of caution. Overall, this is a heartfelt call to seek truth and relationship with God. It has the potential to raise some great questions, and I think to point us to the source of the real answers.

Matt Mikalatos (the real one) has given me a great interview, which I’ll be posting tomorrow — so check back!

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?

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.

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.

The CSFF Tour for this month is officially over, but before we leave Raven’s Ladder, I want to explore one of its themes. I also have a book to give away, so it’s time for a contest! Scroll all the way down to the bottom of this post for contest rules and deadline.

Warning: there are series spoilers contained herein, though they are not too earth-shattering.

Ever since CSFF first toured Auralia’s Colors, reviewers have been confused about whether or not the Keeper and Auralia represent God the Father and Christ in a straightforward allegory. They don’t, as the author pointed out in my interview with him and has said elsewhere.

(Digression: John W. Otte, blogger extraordinaire, addressed this topic on his blog and was kind enough to reply to my questions to him at length today. He points out that while he doesn’t expect or want every Christian book to be an allegory, these characters have so many God- and Christ-like characteristics that it’s misleading. Overstreet says he isn’t writing an allegory, but his series sure smells like one. Point taken!)

But whether or not we’ll see a clear picture of God in the Expanse, we will certainly see a clear and biblical picture of ourselves.

When we first meet Captain Ryllion in Cyndere’s Midnight, he is recovering from an encounter with beastmen that killed his charge and set his career significantly back. But Ryllion is a passionate believer in the value of his own desires and the inevitability of his destiny. Others may waver in their faith; Ryllion doesn’t. He’s a devotee of the moon spirit religion, whose seers teach that everyone has a moon spirit of their own who comes and shines desires into their hearts. Your religious duty, then, is to pursue those desires, believing that your moon spirit will reward your efforts.

Ryllion comes across as young, sometimes aggravating, but really admirable. He believes so sincerely, so wholeheartedly in his dreams. He’s courageous and smart. He’s an underdog fighting his way back up, and we can’t help rooting for him.

At first.

It’s only as time goes on and more backstory is revealed that we start to realize how much integrity Ryllion has already sacrificed in pursuit of his dreams, how much the desires of his heart have torn down any sense of morality or real duty, how much his courage is nothing but — extremely — selfish ambition. Ironically, Ryllion’s pursuit of personal freedom makes him a slave to the Seers, who slip something into his drink to help him along. And before Ryllion even knows it, he’s changing.

He’s becoming a beastman.

On the flip side of the story, we have Jordam. Born a beastman, with a jutting browbone and three brothers who snarl, kill, and hate, his life is also all about desire. He’s hungry, so he kills. He craves Essence, the power-giving poison that created the beastmen, so he steals, plots, hunts, and does obeisance to the Cent Regus chieftain in order to be given it. There is no real difference between Jordam and Ryllion. Both are enslaved to what the Bible calls “the lusts of the flesh.” It’s just that Jordam’s desires are more obviously, outwardly carnal than Ryllion’s.

But while Ryllion is a man becoming a beast, Jordam is a beast becoming a man. It begins when he encounters Auralia’s colors in a cave by Deep Lake and is calmed by them, able to be at peace for the first time in his life. An encounter with Cyndere and more exposure to colors awakens new desires in him, desires that wrestle with his powerful cravings. Desires to protect, to care, to think clearly, to rise above his carnality. Jordam starts to avoid Essence, even though the cravings twist him up inside. And the longer he stays away from it, the more human he becomes. In a brilliant and beautiful portrayal of what it means to be human, he starts to think in metaphors — to see the world artistically, poetically.

Scripture speaks of the war between flesh and Spirit and tells us that “to be carnally minded is death.” Yet we live in a world that promotes self-advancement above all things, that tells us just to follow our desires in order to be happy. If we want something deeply, it has to be right. But we don’t see that our fleshly desires, like Ryllion’s, are nothing more than carnal cravings dressed up in glitz and glamour. In the end, following them will make animals of us. God calls us to a higher way, the way Jordam begins to take — a way of self-denial for the sake of something greater and more beautiful than ourselves.

It’s in denying himself that Jordam becomes a man. But in what is very good news for all of us, the more human Jordam becomes, the more his desires actually start to change. Perhaps someday there will be no more cravings for Essence. No more ambition for evil. No more carnal drives. Perhaps someday Jordam’s desires will be entirely purified — just as, perhaps, someday ours will. And then, as Proverbs says, God will give us the desires of our hearts.

Christianity is sometimes charged with denying humanity, with trying to pull us all into some ascetic club that sucks all the joy out of life. But that’s not the truth at all. Christianity as Jesus lived it calls us not to deny our humanity, but to really become human again, to return to the fellowship with God that once made us so much more than the animals.

I don’t know how Ryllion and Jordam’s stories will end. I’m eagerly awaiting the final book in the series so I can find out. But in the meantime, they’ve given me a vivid way to think about humanity, temptation, sin, and desire. They’ve given me a new way to think about myself.

————–

And now, the contest details .

As readers, writers need us. We may not realize that, but it’s true. They need us to buy their books so they can keep writing them, and they need us to spread the word about what they write. So here’s how this contest will go:

1. Choose a book you like with an author who is still living. No Jane Eyre or Anne of Green Gables this time.

2. Write a review of said book and post it to your blog or Facebook or GoodReads or Amazon or wherever (or even all of the above).

3. Post a link to your review in the comments section of THIS POST.

You have until May 6, exactly one week. May 6 also happens to be my birthday, so you can consider your reviews a present for me. I will put your names in a hat and pull one out, and if you win, I will send you a brand-new copy of Raven’s Ladder. If you haven’t read the rest of the series yet, hie thee to the nearest library (or better yet, bookstore — remember, writers need you!) and get cracking. Don’t start with the third book; trust me.

Happy reviewing!