One of the frustrations of a Christian writer is to constantly hear, “Write your passion!” and then, nearly in the same breath, “XYZ isn’t selling as a genre, so we aren’t interested in your passion.”

I’ll be honest and admit that two weeks ago at the ACFW conference, I found the editor panel so discouraging that I walked out. God had told me very clearly a year ago to write and not pay attention to the market (“He who observes the wind will not sow, and he who regards the clouds will not reap”), and to stay and listen to the list of who was NOT interested in SF/F was just … toxic.

Mike Duran commented last week on realizing just how uphill the climb is for the Christian SF/F market. He’s absolutely right, which on one hand is utterly discouraging.

On the other hand, it’s just more opportunity to see God work.

I believe God has wonderful things in store for this genre. The readership is THERE. Just in the past two weeks, I’ve heard of so many people clamoring for quality Christian spec fiction. My sister works in the computer tech department of a major ministry, and when she told them about the ACFW conference and what I write, they all were very excited and wanted to know where they could read some of this good stuff? And this morning I received an email from Sharon Hinck, author of the recent release, The Secret Life of Becky Miller. She writes: “Monday I spoke to a church book group about BECKY MILLER, but when I mentioned RESTORER they lit up. There are SO MANY fans of sci-fi/fantasy…people hungry for these stories. I’m baffled that it hasn’t yet translated to the powers-that-be-in CBA getting it.”

The good news is: they may be getting it. One major publisher, who last year very firmly told us that their house did not nor ever would accept speculative fiction, because it wasn’t commercially viable enough, just this year sent a young editor to ACFW for the express purpose of looking at “the weird stuff.” This editor loves Orson Scott Card (Ender’s Game), so we know that he truly understands the genre.

And just when we hear that nobody is actively pursuing SF/F, we hear of another house who has just contracted an author for a fantasy series.

There are limitations, of course. Science fiction is a much harder sell, to the point that it’s almost universally regarded as “dead” for the moment. And though the door is opening to fantasy, the aforementioned editor told me that he was looking for more traditional fantasy, or at least works that were purely alternate reality. The good news is that he wants QUALITY above all. (I’m waiting with bated breath to see which of my unpublished friends captures his eye first.)

I found it extremely interesting—I should say thrilling—that the theme of the conference was “New Beginnings,” with a banner verse of Isaiah 43:19—“Behold, I will do a new thing; now it shall spring forth; shall ye not know it? I will even make a way in the wilderness, and rivers in the desert.”

I believe that verse speaks to us, as Christian writers and readers of SF/F, in so many ways. God can make the way. Many of us believe that He already is doing so.

And yeah, wasn’t the First Annual ACFW-Con SF/F Party just great? You all made the conference so worth it for me.

As I recounted last week, my first published novel, Arena was conceived partly in response to the market (alternate world stories being hot at the time) and partly as an allegory of the Christian life as it intersects the angelic conflict. Initially I thought that having the alternate world setup would make it easier to disguise the Christian aspects. But as I progressed through the book, the use of an allegorical created world into which people from our world were placed became a challenge to pull off effectively.  Places where the reality came way too close to the analogy erupted right and left. I decided I would NEVER do another one. (And alas, seem to have fallen into it any way as the book I’m contracted to write after Return of the Guardian-King if based on that template. Go figure.)

Even more problematic with Arena, though, was that eventually I reached a point where I had to explain the reason for my created world’s existence and operation, and there I was: staring at the obvious again.  I began to think that the only way to not be obvious was to be very vague about it all.

Lord of the Rings does not have God in it, after all. Which is, to be honest, one of the few things I don’t like about it. No one speaks of God or to Him, nor does He play any kind of active part. It is relatively easy to hide the Christian underpinnings in that way. But what if you do want God to play a part in your stories?  And if you have God and you have man and you are Christian, then how can you not have Jesus Christ? And now… all your plans of being discrete begin to unravel.

I finally hit a point both spiritually and artistically where I decided I not only didn’t care if readers saw it, but that I wanted it to be seen. Yes, some readers would object. Yes, the book might not have as wide a readership because of its Christian “obviousness” but really, what was I trying to do in my writing, anyway? My intent had always been to celebrate the truths of Christianity, to celebrate God and our relationship with Him, His grace, His mercy, His wisdom. These things are an integral part of my life. We writers are supposed to write of the things we know and believe and have learned about life. The things we believe to be true. How could I write about anything else? And why would I want to write something and have no one understand what I was saying? That seems completely pointless, though I hear and read a lot of advice that seems to advocate that.

So there are three pages of backstory on the reason the Arena exists — out of about 400 — which some readers have taken extreme exception to. Ruined the book for them! If only it wasn’t there! Okay. Fine. That’s their opinion. Others expressed great relief upon reaching that section because they had been very frustrated throughout the story, wanting to know what was going on, and at that point they finally did.

I wonder if those same detractors, though, would be nearly as upset if I had couched my story in, oh, ancient Norse myth. Or Buddhism, like Sean Russell did. Or even old Egyptian stories. Those are all fine. But put in angels, the fall of Satan and Jesus Christ and now you are in trouble. One reviewer described my ineptness in introducing these Christian elements thus:

“But later on, the veneer of mystery is stripped away and the allegory becomes much less allegorical and much more like an episode of Dragnet in which the names have been changed to protect the innocent… For my part, if I want to read about a battle between heaven and hell as such, I’ll just go read Milton…” Robert Davis for Suite101.com

Another lamented, albeit vaguely, that I had fettered my work with my beliefs:

“Arena is a rather bizarre fusion of Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress and early SF pulp magazines…However, Hancock … is competent enough to make a somewhat simplistic conception eminently readable. Her characters are complex and well drawn, particularly Pierce… Moreover, also surprisingly for a Christian fundamentalist writer, she allows her heroine to be nearly seduced several times…

“I do hope that Karen Hancock can break through the bounds she has set around herself and write an unfettered fantasy. She has obviously got the ability to become one of the leaders in the field.”  ~ Bookloons

A third, incensed to find herself reading about Christianity in a Science fiction allegory put out by a Christian publisher, complained:

“If I didn’t know the book was Christian allegory (and it makes a point to tell you, both in the blurbs on the back and in the authors acknowledgements) I might not be so… irritated about some aspects of the message the author is communicating.

“To me, there’s a big difference between religion and spirituality. Religions for the most part seem to be sets of rules about how you’re supposed to behave and worship. I believe there’s creative force in the universe, but I’m not so sure there’s only one way to pay homage to it, which is in direct opposition to the tenants of most religions. I believe good things beget good things, and kindness begets kindness. I don’t need the Bible or the Koran or any other religious text to tell me to be nice to people, to say please and thank you, to be true to myself and those I love, to not lie cheat or steal or judge others. Yet a Christian would tell me that doing all that isn’t enough. I have to accept Jesus as my savior and God as the almighty, or it’s all for naught. That’s the strongest message at the heart of Arena and I have a problem with it.”

Um. Actually, I’m quite happy that she got that “message.” Even if she didn’t like it. To her credit she gave Arena 8 out of 10 stars. You can read the full review at  SFReader.com

On the other hand, look at this one from a review at Christian Book Distributers:

“Back in 2002 I read Arena, by Karen Hancock. This was about one year before I became a Christian. The book did more than hold my interest. It made me think…”  Phillip Tomasso

I think that one is the best of all. And maybe ultimately it is a matter of the work of the Holy Spirit on both sides — leading the writer to put down what He intends, then preparing the reader to receive it. (Which I’ve written a little about on my own blog, Writing from the Edge, today.) All in all, it’s a dilemma I don’t think I’ve yet resolved, beyond deciding that I would write what I knew and what I would like to read, and let things fall as they might.

Karen Hancock
www.kmhancock.com

Evil geniuses have never conquered the world because they always invest in mediocrity. Whether it be sub-par thugs without enough brains to actually pull off a task, or superbly talented henchmen with a bit too much ambition, or perhaps the devastatingly beautiful lady assassin, with a tad too soft a heart.

Well that and they tend to monologue a bit to much to satisfy their over-inflated egos giving the hero just enough time to escape and foil there evil schemes.

Yesterday Becky asked what to do about Christian SFF books that are just plain bad. And yes, there are books like that out there (naturally I’m not talking about your book, or my book, but that other book over there. You know, the one even bookworms can’t stomach). But Becky wants to know, do we spread the word about the sadly worm-free book or do we promote it anyway, simply for the sake of getting more exposure to the fact that there is Christian SFF out there?

Well let’s look at it this way.  If someone complained to you that there is no bread any more, and nobody would want it if there was any, and yet you had five loafs of bread which would you show them. The one fresh from the oven, with mouth-watering moistness and that all too yummy warm radiance, or maybe the two that aren’t quite oven fresh, but still all good and yummy-licious. Maybe even bring out the one that’s tiny bit–stale but still good for toast.  Or perhaps you would bring out the other one, the old, green and two minutes away from getting up and walking loaf. Of course you wouldn’t show them the last one. Just the sight of it would ruin their appetite for bread for at least a week (unless you quickly shoved the oven fresh bread in their face, slathered with rich, to-die-for strawberry jam).

Here’s the rambling point. If there is a book out there you can’t stomach, you don’t do any favors to your cause by brining attention to it, negatively or positively. The best you can do is let it die a quiet and peaceful death, maybe in the back pasture with a nice gentle brook and a happy little butterfly (that was really very mean and a bully as a caterpillar, thus it’s being trapped with said book).

Maybe it’s mean, cruel and heartless of me to say so, but not every book deserves to see the light of day (trust me, I’ve created some of the freaks myself).  If we promote and shove books out to the masses in a desperate, undiscriminating flood then we will only hurt our cause. All it takes is one or two bad books to sour a reader for a long time (and if that reader happens to be in a position of influence… Well it isn’t pretty).

There is one more very sinister creature lurking in the shadows, waiting to devour unsuspecting E.G.s as well. One much more sinister than any 007 or Kim Possible.

But I’ll talk about it next time…

Most people who have read my posts here at Spec Faith or over at my own blog, A Christian Worldview of Fiction, know that I love Christian fantasy. As well I should, since I write Christian fantasy.

I also believe that there is an untapped market of other Christians who also love fantasy and would love Christian fantasy even more, except there isn’t very much out there on bookstore shelves.

This past weekend I had occasion to study the bios in the media guide of two sports teams, one male and one female, at a Christian college. One section listed the student’s favorite author and another his/her favorite book. The most repeated author was C. S. Lewis and the most repeated book was Narnia—no one book specified.

Second place in the book category was a tie between The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini, Harry Potter by J. K. Rowling, and the Bible. Hemingway received several votes as favorite author. Interestingly, three CBA authors showed up on the list: Francine Rivers, Karen Kingsbury, and Ted Dekker.

Orwell—a science fiction writer who avoided being so pigeon-holed—made an appearance. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley, which falls into the same category, made the favorite-book list.

In combination, that brings the total to 23 percent of the students identifying a SFF book or author (or both) as their favorite. No other genre even came close.

So while my conviction that SFF readers are out there was reinforced, a dilemma also raised its head.

One thing we here as Spec Faith want to do is get the word out that there ARE some CSFF books out there. When those books sell well, publishing companies will take notice and respond by searching for more of like kind.

But what do we do with books that are Christian, that are fantasy … or sci fi … and are not well written?

At this same event, I met a CSFF author who wrote a very clever story but who apparently had not studied the craft of fiction. Lo and behold, he told me the next book is about to come out—with the same publisher. I had no opportunity to ask him if he’d taken the time to learn to write (nor would the question have been appropriate ). I guess I can only hope.

But what if it is as poor as the first one? Do we—the CSFF community working to promote the genre—ignore it? (Few people I’ve run into have heard of the first one, let alone bought and read it). Add it to the list of fantasy that is out there and encourage people to buy it? Expose it for what it is?

I also wish I knew why publishers put weak writing into print. Do they feel a loyalty to their authors? (This book certainly couldn’t have earned them money).

The last question aside, I’d be curious to know how the rest of you think this issue should be handled. Ideas?

Today we’ll finish our analysis of Ted Chiang’s award-winning short story “Hell is the Absence of God.” (Be sure to read part 1 and part 2 of this three-part series.)

So, who wrote the biblical book of Job?

No one knows. Theories are out there, but nothing is definite. Obviously, if we’re to take Job’s story as literal (ie, it really happened and isn’t just an instructional sort of bit of storytelling), and most every Christian I know does, then we say “God wrote it through someone.” No ordinary human would know what goes on in the Lord’s presence. Clearly, that had to be revealed prophetically.

In “Hell is the Absence of God,” the narrator is omniscient. He/she/it knows what Neil’s mother thought (but never said), knows Janice’s internal struggle, and knows very specifically what Neil is experiencing in Hell. In that sense, it continues the parallel with the Book of Job.

Neil Fisk is Job, if Job had gone spiritually wrong from the start. He suffered the physical ailment that caused Neil to wonder “occasionally” as a child if “he was being punished by God.” (And we all know how much dialogue went on with Job and his buddies about punishment from God, injustice, etc.) Neil suffers the loss of a loved one as Job did. But where Job, being devout, wrestled WITH God, asked God for relief, and begged God to be allowed to plead his case; Neil simply ignored God, figuring there was no way he’d ever love the Creator, and went around looking for loopholes. “Nothing in his upbringing or his personality led him to pray to God for strength or for relief.”

This is where Neil did not learn from Job. He never really tries, despite upbringing and personality, to engage the God Who Is Really, Quite Obviously, There. He’s only concerned with Heaven, and not the God of Heaven. Big mistake.

What makes one person seek God and another turn away from or be apathetic to God or …antipathetic? The general answer from many a denominational perspective would be: God’s grace is the deciding factor.

Others would say a combination of grace and human will. If you seek with your whole heart, He will make sure you find.

Well, if it’s God’s grace that moves us to love God, then does God not give grace to those who end up not loving God? Are thy not devout because God has decided not to touch them with that particular blessing?

It’s a problematic situation. If we do not save ourselves, and if it is all God’s doing, then how can the ones not granted the grace to respond to God be to blame?

I’ll leave it to theologians to debate that. I’ll simply say that in Chiang’s story world, where faith is moot, God’s light—but not God—are seen, and it has diverging effects in the finale. It shouldn’t be wholly unexpected, given that in this world, angelic apparitions and their results seem terribly unpredictable and capricious.

An interesting discussion on this story unfolded at John C. Wright’s blog. I recommend you read it for a much more critical view than mine. (Though Mr. Wright acknowledges, as do I, that the story is well-crafted.)

I take the view that the story world is not representative of the Christianity that really is (as opposed to a straw man Christianity). I’ve mentioned that it feels more Old Testament than New Testament, a time when angels dispersed the Lord’s plagues and destruction and were seen in fiery chariots. (This sets aside Revelation, which is N.T., but so metaphoric and varying in interpretation, that it might as well sit next to Ezekiel and Zechariah.) It’s some fantasy variation of elements of Judeo-Christianity. It’s not the real thing.

One thing central to the faith I hold is that God is just. God’s sentence may be harsh, but it is just. Every person who is sent to Hell merits it. No one who goes to Heaven merits it. Obtaining Hell is justice. Obtaining Heaven is grace.

If Neil Fisk’s going to hell is unjust, then God, as the story’s prophet (Ethan) claims, is unjust. This is what Ethan preaches:

He tells people that they can no more expect justice in the afterlife than in the mortal plane, but he doesn’t do this to dissuade them from worshiping God; on the contrary, he encourages them to do so. What he insists on is that they not love God under a misapprehension, that if they wish to love God, they be prepared to do so no matter what His intentions. God is not just, God is not kind, God is not merciful, and understanding that is essential to true devotion.

This flies in the face of Church teaching that God is just, kind, merciful, and that understanding this aids in devotion, for it is easy to love a being that is just, kind, and merciful. However, we would say, yes, be prepared to love God no matter what His intentions. If God is going to appoint us to suffering, then love Him. If He appoints us to ease and wealth, love Him. If He appoints us to deprivation, love Him. Ethan got that right, but he got the rest wrong.

Was it unjust for Neil Fisk to go to Hell?

Well, didn’t Neil himself say he didn’t deserve Heaven. He expected to go to Hell as a non-devout. He even saw how unjust it would be for him to get to Heaven on a loophole.

The odd thing is that, ultimately,l his going to Hell was just, even if it was a surprise to the observer. Neil received the expected benefit of Heaven’s Light (ie, all-encompassing love of God), but he was sent to Hell, where he actually belonged given the course of his life of non-devotion. The rules were kept, if not in the way the story sets it strictly up.

But, ah, the capricious results of angelic appearances. Why not some of that unexpectedness in Heaven’s Light. To expect that it will go A + B= C is because we haven’t paid close attention to the other equations. Yes, we should expect Heaven for Neil. But the story itself leads us to expect surprises. The unexpected. Such as Janice’s triple Heavenly touch.

It’s an ending sure to cause a measure of distress to believing readers. How can we not hurt when we read the accusations against God. But then, it’s supposed tobe very uncomfortable. I accept that. I read a Bible that has much that leaves me uneasy—genocides in Canaan, for instance. Do not these lines from Job cause some distress to read:

“Have pity on me, my friends, have pity, for the hand of God has struck me.” (Job 19:21)

“As surely as God lives, who has denied me justice, the Almighty, who has made me taste bitterness of soul.” (Job 27:2)

“He does whatever He pleases.” (Job 23:13)

And God’s response to the suffering man is not one of comfort, but of scolding: “Would you discredit my justice?”

How easy it would be for God to say, “Job, there are things at work in the universe of which you do not know, things angels are looking into, things of eternal consequence beyond your comprehension. You were tested to show that your love for me and devotion to me are not dependent on blessings. I chose you because of your righteous character. You are my beloved child.”

But God’s response is to say, in long and poetic terms, ‘I am God and I am Almighty and who are you to question me?”

He is God. He is mighty. And I trust, as Julian of Norwich prophesied, that “all shall be well, all manner of things shall be well.” But I still cannot help wanting answers to perplexing questions, such as that of suffering. I commiserate with Job. And I fear the God who can crush my life to serve a higher purpose, even as I know that it is His right to act as He thinks best.

I believe in Him and I bless His name.

And that response from my heart is a mystery of devotion (of faith) that bypassed Neil Fisk, until it was too late.

Job said He knew his Redeemer lived and “yet in my flesh will I see God.” (19:26). And he did hear God. And it changed him. He repented in “dust and ashes,” and his latter days were fuller than his former.

Neil sees, while in his flesh, a vision from Heaven. But without repentance, without devotion, without the love of God (prior to the miraculous intervention, ie., without it springing from his being in a genuine fashion)—-he is justly damned.

I can’t help but think on reading the story for the fourth or so time, that Mr. Chiang (who has several stories with Biblical or religious subject matter) has a more curious soul than he himself realizes. And if he really intended to pronounce the Judeo-Christian God as unjust and cruel, then these lines spoken by Job apply to the author, who may yet one day utter them should grace abound to him:

“Surely, I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know.”

I’ve enjoyed reading Karen’s posts and how she explains her writing journey and the expression of Christianity, of allegory, within her stories. Ultimately, we each must write the story God gives us and hope that the deep message dwelling inside of us will find it’s way into the pages of our novels.

At last year’s ACFW conference, I learned during my meeting with editors and agents (and I was pitching a fantasy then, too) that Christianeze is to be avoided at all cost. The reason—so the message can also be delivered to the lost. Interesting that none of the other genres within the CBA have this stipulation. Nevertheless, this year I heard (but don’t necessarily agree with) that the truth in fantasy is intrinsic and will not be denied. Fantasy can be written by either Christian or atheist because the message is always the same. Good overcomes evil.

Still there are those authors that don’t have to “hide” their beliefs. As I mentioned in last week’s post, Stephen Lawhead is one such author. Christianity pervades his books and he is popular in the secular market.

I invite you to hop over to Favorite Pastimes today and tomorrow to read my interview with this famed author. In addition to the release of his newest book, Hood, Westbow is re-releasing the Song of Albion trilogy

As I said here last week, when I started writing the book that would become The Light of Eidon, my initial intent was to keep the spiritual concepts concealed. This proved more difficult than I imagined, though mostly I didn’t realize it at first. Part of that was due to my own ignorance of religious tradition and beliefs, seeing as I had grown up in an unbelieving family.

For example, I had no real intention of patterning my religious organization after the Roman Catholic church and to my way of thinking, did not. I knew very little about it for one thing, and for another was more interested in devising something that would be generally representative of religious concepts. To that end I took elements from Mormonism (about which I knew more than I did Catholicism), Buddhism, Japanese Shintoism and other things in addition to Catholicism. Alas, people who grew up in the latter faith have informed me that it is very obviously a parallel.

Some can overlook it, others react. But a few, including one friend who left that religion long ago, found the book to be profoundly beneficial in rooting out concepts she had long clung to without realizing it and now considers to be false. As a result of reading The Light of Eidon, she has come to a new understanding of her spiritual life and gained a new freedom from her past.

So I certainly don’t regret the final form the book has taken.

But that was minor compared to the struggles I began to have with the original plan to keep the real Christian elements hidden. I think what happened is that as I continued to write the book I was also growing spiritually. As I came to understand more about my own faith and what the Bible teaches about the core of Christianity, I became less and less enamored with the idea of hiding it all.  Besides, it was just plain hard to come up with a salvation equivalent in the Guardian King books that suited me — that communicated the truths of Christianity without looking overtly like it. Some sort of religious dogma had to be advanced, however, both for the Mataio, which was relatively easy, and for the Terstans, which was not. But I had no idea how to solve the problem. So for awhile I tried to write around it.

Even in that state, though, the book landed me two agents who worked in the general market science fiction and fantasy fields and an almost sale at what was then New American Library.

The first agent passed the book around to all the major houses, receiving varying degrees of positive rejections — if there is such a thing. DelRey offered to look at it again, once I cut it down to size. Others praised the writing but, “Alas, it doesn’t suit our needs at this time.”  That first agent was the one who nursed it along at NAL for over a year, until the hiring of a new assistant editor. He felt my work needed more humor and sent the book home with a rejection slip.

In the interim I found myself growing dissatisfied with my agent. Half the time I heard from her assistant not from her, so I was never sure who exactly was representing me. It didn’t help, either, that they kept getting me confused with other authors, asking me to send them copies of manuscripts I’d not written. There was no real sense that any of them really cared about my work, and in the end we were both happy to part ways.

Over the next several years I rewrote the entire book, then got a second agent, a former editor at Tor and so far as I know, not a Christian. The second agent was much more excited about what I was doing than the first had been, but she only lasted six months before abandoning agenting. That’s when I received the news that the market was saturated and I needed to write something different.

So I shelved Eidon and began Arena, an alternate world story that from the beginning was conceived as an allegory for the Christian way of life. It was in the writing of that that I really began to chafe against the boundaries I’d stipulated that no one should be able to tell my work was Christian allegory unless they really looked. But I’ll talk more about that next week.

Writers’ conferences can be strange things. They are both at once energizing and encouraging while at the same time seem to be able to suck the air from your lungs and leave you groping for the path forward.

The conference this year was a bit more of the encouragement and a little less mist shrouded, though it took a bit of fanning to clear away the clouds and see what was actually happening out there. So I figured I’d take the chance to share my re-cap here as well.

The conference started off with the editor and agent panels, which I think are probably the worst events for a speculative fiction writer to attend. Usually because there will be at least one flippant remark as to how sci-fi and fantasy doesn’t sell and nobody wants it. Which isn’t 100% true, but it can leave you starting off the conference feeling like a kicked dog in a rainstorm.

However I hope the SFF get together later on Thursday night helped to assuage some doused spirits as we all met, chat, commiserated, boggled at the seeming prejudice against our chosen genre, and mostly just had a rowdy time. It was a great time of fun and encouragement to push forward through the mist and boldly go where CBA (Christian Bookseller’s Association) tiptoes.

I went to Randy Ingermanson’s continuing session, which was mostly about putting together the perfect synopsis and a few other things my brain is refusing to recall… ah yes it was the structure of a novel. From high concept, one line summary to the MRUs (Motivation Reaction Units). Basically the Snowflake method.  Always a good thing to tune in on.

John Olson also taught two excellent workshops, the first was on Thrillers, though the basic principles of the session can be applied to any genre as needed. The second was on Writing science fiction and fantasy, or more appropriately, figuring out how to SELL science fiction and fantasy in the CBA market.  As he said a few times throughout the conference, “Nobody is actively looking for fantasy, but they are acquiring it.”  I would highly recommend both of these sessions to someone looking for what to buy on CD from the conference (once I know the link on where you can get those CDs I’ll be sure to post it.)

There were many other little moments at the conference that helped whisk away the early mist and help me see that I really was standing on a mountaintop and let me move on encouraged and charged to return home and know that I’m not writing in vain (even if my stories never actually get published).  But to relate them all would take far too much time and space, and I’m not sure I even understand them all yet.

But I’ll stick by my post from last week and say that the void continues to shrink. Even if some days it seems like all is covered in mist.

****UPDATE****

To order recordings of the conference click here!