Crusader perched like a gargoyle on a second floor ledge across from the safe house’s entrance. He ignored the rain pouring down his face even though it blurred his vision. The weather didn’t matter. Neither did his posture. God created him to execute the Ministrix’s justice. Soon he would fulfill his ordained purpose.

The building across the street from him consumed his attention. It was unremarkable in its construction, a four-story box made of standard terracrete. Its dull beige exterior matched that of its neighbors, making the entire block look like a row of rotten teeth. Low bushes lined the front of the building. To the untrained eye, the building would appear to be a simple apartment building or maybe an office complex. But Crusader knew better. He could see the subtle way the front entrance had been reinforced, or the forcefield emitters tucked into the windows in case of siege. No, this was no ordinary building. It was a Praesidium safe house and his prey was inside.

He fought the urge to shift. His legs could have cramped, but he couldn’t test them now. Numbness wrapped him in a hazy cocoon. He breathed a silent prayer, thanking the Almighty for this divine gift. Why God had made Crusader numb, he didn’t know, but he had been this way for as long as he could remember. He didn’t know pain. He wasn’t hindered by emotions. Normally, this helped on his missions. But if he rested in one position for too long, he could stiffen up without realizing it. He needed to shift his weight, keep the blood flowing. But that wasn’t an option, not now. Better to remain focused on the task.

Crusader blew water from the tip of his nose. A guard wandered by a window, not even bothering to look outside. This was the third time Crusader had seen that one. He had counted twelve guards so far. Difficult but not impossible.

Conversation drifted up from the street. A young couple strode toward the safe house, apparently unconcerned about the rain. The man nuzzled the woman’s neck. She giggled, wrapping her arms around him. Her red hair was bobbed in keeping with local fashions, but her strong stride marked her as a non-native, most likely from the Praesidium’s Orion Stations.

The man’s goatee, tightly trimmed, framed a wide grin that split his hawkish features. His eyes, bright and green, flashed as he laughed. If Crusader didn’t know better, he’d peg him as a native. But that was why Balaam was one of the Ministrex’s best agents. He could blend into any culture. Even though Balaam knew Crusader was in the area, he didn’t show any sign. His focus remained on the girl. They walked up the steps and through the front door.

Crusader leaned back. He hated working with a partner but hadn’t been given a choice. Sub-Deacon Siseal, his superior, had insisted. And with a mission this important, Crusader couldn’t blame him. Killing a Ministrix Deacon was unheard of and yet they had no choice.

Deacon Palti had been in charge of Ministrix Intelligence, second only to the Revered Hand himself. To rise through the ranks of the One True Church, to be examined at every ascension, and to end like this. Crusader closed down that train of thought. Distracting. Didn’t need that.

The gnawing void within him grew sharper. Didn’t need that either, but he couldn’t avoid it. That chasm went everywhere with him, devouring him from inside his mind. If he focused on it, it raged. If he ignored it, it growled beneath his thoughts. Guilt over what he had done. Guilt that could only be stilled through obedience to the Ministrix. So the Revered Hand taught. So Sub-Deacon Siseal assured him. So Crusader believed. Killing Palti would be another step toward removing the void from his life.

An hour dripped by. His “parrot,” a device perched on his shoulder, chirped. He barely heard it over the patter of raindrops, but it was enough. Withoug a sound, Crusader dropped from his perch and drew his blaster. He whispered to the parrot to start recording. Sub-Deacon Siseal would want proof that the job was done correctly.

There. A green flash from a second story window. Crusader slunk from the shadows to the main door. He fished a lock picker from his pocket and pressed it to the keypad. The machine whirred. While it worked, Crusader pressed explosives on either side of the doorframe. By the time he finished, the doors hissed open.

After counting to three, Crusader dove through the opening. A pair of Praesidium guards shouted in surprise. Crusader fired and burned holes through their chests. Then he rolled across the floor and popped to his feet. Two down and they wouldn’t be the last.

The safe house’s foyer was deceptively empty. It appeared little more than a two-meter-by-two-meter room with an arch opposite the door. The plaster coating the walls was dingy and cracked. Crusader suspected that the arch had numerous security sensors embedded in its metal, placed to detect unauthorized entries. He strode through anyway.

A hallway stretched to his left and right. The floor was stained and pitted, the walls likewise showing a great deal of wear. He glanced to either side. Looked like a dining room to his left, a living space to his right. In front of him was a closet. He pressed himself into it as half a dozen people thundered down the hall, their voices a riot of confusion. Crusader waited. let them gather around the bodies, close to the door. He then whispered a command to the parrot and turned his head away.

The world dissolved into a roar. He counted to three. Crusader emerged from his shelter. The door had been blown apart. Crusader surveyed the damage. Six more Praesidium agents, dead from shrapnel wounds. No survivors. Acceptable. he kicked a chunk of concrete out of his way. His target still waited within.

He cleared the kitchen first, then proceeded to the living area. No hostiles there either. The room looked run down and decrepit, like the rest of the safe house. An open door revealed a flight of stairs. He crept up the stairs. No one opposed him. If the guards had overcome their initial panic, they had likely clustered around Deacon Palti. Crusader peeked around the corner into a deserted corridor. If Balaam’s reconnaissance was right, the heretic Palti would be in a central room on that floor. He slunk out of the landing and down the hall, his arms relaxed but ready.

The cold metal of a blaster bored into the back of his neck.

“Hello, Crusader.”

He knew that voice. “Hello, Kolya.”

He turned, bringing the Praesidium spymaster into view. Krestyanov didn’t appear to be much of a threat. He had a thick waist, with thinning raven hair and beady blue eyes. But Crusader was still impressed. A lesser man would have panicked at the sound of Crusader’s entrance. Kolya Krestyanov, however, looked like he had simply rolled out of bed for a drink. The smaller man’s raven hair was a bit unkempt and his beady blue eyes flashed. But he stood tall, his breathing even.

“So what brings you to Lanadon? This charming world has no Ministrix post.”

“You know. Palti. He’s ours.”

“I don’t think you’re in any position to claim ownership of him, my friend. You may have made a mess downstairs, but I was ready for you, yes? This game between us ends tonight.”

– – – – –
If you’d like to continue reading this scene, contact author John Otte and ask him to post an excerpt on his website, or purchase a copy of Numb, a finalist in the Christy Awards, Visionary Category. The book is available as an ebook or paperback at Marcher Lord Press, Amazon, Barnes and Noble, and other fine outlets.

Readers never get heard. Writers are told to write to their audience, but who ever asks that audience what kind of books they want to read? Really, the most neglected consumers on the planet (no exaggeration in this post, for sure 😉 ) is readers!

1. So here’s your chance.
2. What do you most want to see in books you read?
3. What do you think is overdone?
4. What makes you want to buy a book?
5. What kind of a book would you most likely give to someone as a gift?
6. What bugs you the most when you see it in a story?
7. What do publishers leave out too often?
8. What do publishers add in too often?
9. What makes you close a book and never come back to it?
10. What makes you throw a book across the room?

I look forward to reading what readers think! Feel free to answer some or all of the questions. It’s your forum to say what you want to say!

All fiction says something about life’s meaning.

Photographer: Adam Jones, Ph.D.

“Hey, wait a minute,” I can hear you saying. “What about [insert book here]!”

Hold on. I know when we discuss message and theme, there is a variety of opinions both on whether that is good for the author to put one in there and how an author can do that well. That’s not what I’m talking about here.

As a reader, all fiction will say something to you about life, whether the author intended it to or not, and often not what the author intended.

So you might point to book X that is simply a rip, roaring fun tale, with no message or theme overtly inherent in the plot or characters. It might not mention God or religion at all, much less attempt to touch upon more literary themes and meanings.

I can guarantee you, when readers read that only-for-fun novel, they will pick up on themes and meanings. Even if those meanings are shallow, or the reader is not in agreement with what they see.

The Meaning of Life

That’s happened to me. My Reality Chronicles series is decidedly Christian fiction. I’ve intentionally incorporated themes and meanings into the stories. Some people pick up on them, some don’t, some find meanings I had not considered.

Yet, my Virtual Chronicles series is just plain general market, let’s tell a fun story, book. God is not mentioned, religion plays a very minor role, and it isn’t Christian. I went into those stories with no intention to make a point or accomplish anything more than tell a good yarn.

Despite that, I noticed a theme of trust and loyalty popping up frequently. Then readers got a hold of it and reviewed it, they saw meanings I hadn’t even considered.

Any story will communicate values and meaning.

It generally isn’t a question of whether it will or not, but whether the meaning conveyed is significant to the reader. The more meaningful it is, the more it emotionally moves the reader—the more memorable the story will be.

Classics became classics not merely because it was an engaging story, but because it said something of significance to a lot of people.

Readers might not even think in those terms. They only know the story affected them deeply. It meant a lot to them because what it said about life—their life—illustrated through the story.

So often when we talk about themes and meanings, we only look at what the author intentionally or subconsciously puts into a story. That is all well and good, but it is the readers who have the final say on a story’s meaning and depth.

It is the readers who decide what is quality fiction. It is readers who decide what will be classics or not.

Increasing the quality of Christian speculative fiction is in your hands, reader, by what you read and what you talk about with friends and fans.

So go out there and vote by reading and promoting the stories that speak to you. Write a review and submit it here at SpecFaith. If enough other readers agree with you, you may have helped unveil a classic.

What stories have affected you in a good way? Tell us about it. That is how quality fiction rises to the top.

Often this time of year, writers are gearing up to attend a conference—or perhaps they’ve just recently come home from one. Others may be thinking, why attend a conference? After all, there are writer instruction classes and webinars online which are considerably cheaper than conferences (see for example, WOW classes and Writers Digest tutorials or webinars).

Certainly online classes, workshops, tutorials, and webinars by industry professionals are helpful, even necessary, in this era of less editing and more self-publishing. However, there are benefits to conferences and the savvy writer will take advantage of what’s offered.

I want to highlight one conference in particular, to be held in Pennsylvania May 30-31—the second annual Realm Makers Conference geared specifically for Christian writers and fans of speculative literature. At the Realm Makers website, they describe the conference as “The only symposium for people of faith who love science fiction and fantasy.”

Led by Keynote speaker Tosca Lee, the schedule includes classes by an impressive list of faculty, including Steve Laube, Jeff Gerke, author L. B. Graham, and many more.

In reality, though, the things that are true about Realm Makers are true about all Christian writers’ conferences—Mount Hermon, Orange County, Maranatha, Florida, Northwestern, Blue Ridge, Colorado, Oregon, ACFW, and more. But what things? What makes the expense of traveling to a conference, paying for tuition and room and board, spending two or more days away from family and the regular routine of life, worth it?

Instruction. Despite what I said earlier about online learning opportunities, I don’t want to minimize the instruction aspect of a conference. The truth is, too often we don’t know what we don’t know. How do you take an online class to learn how to deepen your characters’ point of view if you don’t know you need to do so? Conferences often introduce writers to topics they’ve not thought about before.

Sometimes these instructional topics come packaged in an ongoing workshop. For instance, in my first conference at Mount Hermon, I sat in an extended class on fiction co-taught by Randy Ingermanson and Brandilyn Collins. These wonderful instructors covered any number of topics, including ones I hadn’t realized I was weak in.

Networking with other writers. SpecFaith webmaster guru, E. Stephen Bernett reminds me from time to time that we met at an ACFW conference years ago. Little did I realize at the time that we would be working together in this online venue.

At conferences I’ve met writers who critiqued my work, who became subjects of an article I’ve written, who write guest articles here at Spec Faith, whose books the CSFF Blog Tour has featured, who are currently judging for the Clive Staples Award, who endorsed my writing ebook. In other words, writers help writers, and often those contacts begin at writers’ conferences.

Opportunity to pitch to editors and agents. Critique sessions, online classes, and webinars can put writers in touch with a limited number of editors and agents. Writers conferences make it possible to meet face to face with a greater number of industry professionals. These are the people who know about this volatile and ever-changing business from the inside. They are the ones receiving hundreds of manuscripts each week and seeing the caliber of writing. They have insight into what books are selling well and who is buying what.

What an opportunity, then, for writers to pick the brains of these professionals at a conference, starting with a presentation—a pitch—of their own work. How else can writers find out if they have an idea that captures the interest of those in the know?

Inspiration and motivation. Often hearing about the writing journey of those who have gone on before is an incredible encouragement. Further, believers can share the ways in which God uses struggles and successes to form us into the image of His Son. These stories might come from writers we meet during informal gatherings or from the keynote speaker.

I’ll never forget the year Ted Dekker spoke at Mount Hermon and shared how he had reached financial bottom when God opened the door to his writing. His story was moving (he himself was choked up as he told it) and inspiring. It was a reminder that God’s timing is not our timing, that He has plans we most likely don’t see in advance, and that we can trust Him with our writing.

Get away. Some times the best thing about a conference is the chance to get away from the hustle and bustle of everyday and focus on writing. Many conferences offer places where the writer can be alone and think or journal or (shockingly! 😉 ) write. Conference venues can prompt ideas for story settings or even plot lines. And there’s a wealth of people from which to draw ideas for characters.

Fun. I can’t remember laughing harder than I did at the general sessions at Mount Hermon the year Liz Curtis Higgs was the keynote speaker. But apart from the humor speakers bring, conferences can be fun when writers prank each other as Randy Ingermanson did Steve Laube (ask either of them about it some time) or as writers hang together in the evenings over coffee. Of course there are also meals and banquets (sometimes including costumes) and award presentations and focus groups—all fun activities.

Prayer support. For the believer, conferences offer opportunities to pray for and receive prayer from other writers. And not just for writers, but for the editors and agents who often are on the front lines trying to get the best stories in print. Some from indie houses may be operating on a small budget. Some may have a small number of support staff. Others may face the task of breaking down resistance from those in house who are so concerned with the bottom line they aren’t eager to try something new. Whatever the case, we can pray for those we connect with at conferences.

So what do you think? Are conferences for you?

If so, you might take the plunge and register for Realm Makers today.

(Or: Three simple ways to convert your non-geek friends.)

We all know The Look.

Classic symptoms include a glazed stare, a confused expression, rapid eye movement to seek out available escape routes and, in severe cases, a desperate attempt to change the subject of conversation to the weather.

I’m talking, of course, about that unfortunate moment when you try to explain your favorite speculative fiction novel, movie or television show to a non-geek friend. A madman alien travels through space and time abducting beautiful young women in his flying blue police box. It’s basically a Western, except they live in a spaceship—and curse in Mandarin.

Even The Doctor gives his friends The Look.

Cue The Look.

Now, I freely admit it. I’ve been guilty of The Look on more than one occasion. I was that girl who thought geeks were “really weird” and couldn’t fathom their fascination with aliens and robots and basically anything to do with stars and science. I didn’t do slimy or gross. Or tentacles. Or mad scientists creating zombies, or—well, you get my drift.

And while I still have an aversion to gooey green aliens jumping out at me around dark corners, thanks to my best friend’s strategic injections of spec-fiction in various forms I’ve come to love many stories and characters that fall into the speculative genre. Whovian. Brown Coat. Atlantian. You name it, I probably claim it.

Yet when I was growing up, with the notable exceptions of Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, you would have been hard-pressed to interest me in anything other than historical fiction and romance novels. How did this magical transformation take place?

Very carefully.

So, listen up. With a little bit of luck and a whole lot of strategy, you too can begin converting even the most resistant reader or viewer into a lover of worlds unknown. And, just because I’m feeling that nice, I’m going to give you three simple steps.

Step 1: Hook them on the characters.

I can’t emphasize this enough. They don’t care whether an intergalactic bridge is theoretically possible. They want to find their new best friend and go on adventures with them. So don’t tell them it’s about an alien with a time-travel machine. Tell them a brilliant but lonely young man with a quirky sense of humor runs around with his friends saving the world.

See how that works? Moving swiftly onward.

Step 2: Hook them on the story-telling.

They’ve fallen in love with the hero/heroine. So far, so good. Now begin to show our reluctant closet geek the bigger picture. Point out important scenes or plot points. Patiently answer even the most obvious questions—without rolling your eyes. One of the beauties of spec-fiction is complicated, philosophical storylines that deal with deep moral or spiritual dilemmas. But if you’re new to the genre, it can be a bit like drinking from a fire hose.

Keep an eye out for The Look and stand by to intervene if necessary with a dose of reality. That way you’ll be watching when the light bulb comes on. Now you’re getting it…

Step 3: Don’t get distracted. Focus on what matters.

Let me translate this into geek speak. No matter how much you want to explain exactly how time is less like a line and more like a big crazy ball of wibbly-wobbly-timey-wimey stuff, you must giggle maniacally to yourself in your armchair and refrain from expounding on your favorite subject—unless, of course, they ask. Even then, proceed with caution and watch for early symptoms of The Look. Don’t correct them on technicalities. Just smile and redirect back to that mind-blowing plot twist or a particularly witty one-liner from your hero/heroine.

Katie Morford is an author and editor at Crosshair Press.

A final word of warning—this formula only works if the subject is unaware of their conversion process. Once the subject realizes your intentions, they may become more resistant on sheer principle. Therefore, the conversion process requires a degree of subtlety and well-planned strategy

However, in my experience converted geeks become the staunchest fans—and in the speculative realms, that’s saying something! So, best of luck to you in your endeavors. We will try to aid you in this worthwhile quest by providing high-quality fiction with engaging characters and intriguing story-telling. You can do the rest.

After all, as my Downton-Abbey-lover-turned-Whovian friend once said: “You’ve got to fight the aliens sometime.”

Oil painting by Edmund Blair Leighton (1853-1922)

Quality fiction keeps it real. That is, readers don’t want to be jarred out of a story by a plot that doesn’t make sense, character reactions that wouldn’t happen in the real world, or defying the laws of physics without cause.

One of the issues in keeping character interactions real is sex.

Last week one of my main points got lost in the good and needed discussion on the Biblical understanding of sex and marriage: whatever one’s view on the topic is, do we as readers find that represented in Christian fiction, in our case, speculative Christian fiction?

Too often, I suspect, the subject of sex and marriage is avoided rather than fleshed out in most Christian fiction. This is not an effective counter to secular values on the subject regularly plastered in mainstream speculative fiction.

It reflects a head-in-the-sand approach instead of a counter approach. A true counter approach would be showing a positive Christian marriage and relationship reflecting Biblical morals in contrast to the secular.

There are five reasons I think we don’t tend get Christian speculative fiction displaying a positive Biblical model when it comes to sex and marriage.

1. Publishers and bookstores fear broaching the subject will result in condemnation and sluggish sales, so why risk it?
2. Authors know including anything about the subject will make it a difficult sale to a publisher for the above reason.
3. Authors feel unsure where to draw the line between being real and titillating, so they tend to not even go there.
4. Authors fear being the cause of their “brother’s” stumbling.
5. Too many still feel sex is not to be discussed, and dirty when it is brought up. Proper Christians won’t go there.

The result? The subject is surrendered to the secularist to display their values.

They are allowed to define the morality. Christians end up either reacting against it and/or adopting it as part of their “Christian worldview.” Anyone wanting to present a positive example of that relationship gets the “guilty by association” treatment.

Is this a recent problem? Hardly. Different circumstances back in the fourth century, same song and dance as noted by John Chrysostom:

And how become they one flesh? As if thou shouldest take away the purest part of gold, and mingle it with other gold; so in truth here also the woman as it were receiving the richest part fused by pleasure, nourisheth it and cherisheth it, and withal contributing her own share, restoreth it back a Man. And the child is a sort of bridge, so that the three become one flesh, the child connecting, on either side, each to other. . . . Therefore to wit He said with accuracy of expression, not “they shall be one flesh” but joined together “into one flesh” (Genesis 2:2,Sept.), namely, that of the child.

What then? when there is no child, will they not be two? Nay, for their coming together hath this effect, it diffuses and commingles the bodies of both. And as one who hath cast ointment into oil, hath made the whole one; so in truth is it also here.

I know that many are ashamed at what is said, and the cause of this is what I spoke of, your own lasciviousness, and unchasteness. The fact of marriages being thus performed, thus depraved, hath gained the thing an ill name: for “marriage is honorable, and the bed undefiled.” (Hebrews 13:4.)

Why art thou ashamed of the honorable, why blushest thou at the undefiled? This is for heretics, this is for such as introduce harlots thither.

(St. John Chrysostom, “Homilies on Colossians,” Homily 12, vs. 18)

Two questions.

One, does anyone know of good Christian speculative fiction that shows the positive Christian relationship between sex and marriage?

Two, should readers support such stories to encourage publishers and bookstores to buy and print more of these types of stories?

Because it will be reader demand that drives the production of stories that “bring it back again to its proper nobleness.”

I’ve thought about the topic of what brings God glory from time to time, and I’m specifically mindful of it in relation to speculative fiction because the topic comes up with some frequency here at Spec Faith, specifically regarding reviews of books and movies and TV programs.

Actually, something I wrote a couple years ago at my personal site prompted my thinking today, though I was writing about people. Here’s the applicable part:

Some time not long ago Western society started lying to kids. You can do ANYTHING, parents and teachers and coaches and TV stars and sports figures all say in unison. ANYTHING. Except that isn’t true.

Case in point. When I was coaching, I had a seventh grade girl who made the basketball team as an “understudy”—a player who would practice with the team, sit on the bench during games, but who would not play. This particular girl hadn’t played in elementary school, so had no bad habits to break. What’s more, she was sharp, attentive, and willing to work. But she was also slow and weak and not particularly quick.

Nevertheless, all her hard work earned her a spot on the team the following year. In fact when she went into high school, she made the freshman team of her fairly large public school, all because she had great fundamentals. But she still wasn’t fast or quick or strong. No matter how much that girl may have wanted to play pro basketball or make the Olympics (I have no reason to believe she wanted either) that was never going to happen. Never.

Her story repeats itself time and time again, and yet all these parents and teachers and coaches and TV stars and sports figures continue to lie to kids.

What bothers me so much is that at the same time, those influential people are missing what kids really need to hear: the truth. They need to hear what they need to improve and they need to hear what they do well.

. . . I’m a big believer that we need to be balanced in what we say about books—and that would apply to movies, too, or songs, or people.

Yes, people.

We are all a mixed bag. We were created in God’s image, with a sin nature. How much more mixed can we get? We have talents and character strengths and physical prowess and mental capacity. A lot of that is wired in our DNA. We did nothing to make ourselves as tall as we are or as creative or adventurous. We have those things because God gave them to us.

At the same time, we are prideful, lazy, greedy, selfish, vengeful, dishonest, and a host of other things—not stuff we had to learn, but stuff that is innately ours as sin baggage we’re born with.

And all this ties into glorifying God, how?

It seems to me we too often say that glorifying God is the default position, since, after all, He created us with the capacity to imagine and write and weave stories together. We are looking only at one part of the equation—God created, and it was good.

However, when believers say that the “chief end of man” is to “glorify God and enjoy Him forever,” I have to wonder if “glorify God” in that context means the default position—i.e., do nothing because your existence, as God created you, glorifies Him.

My point here is this: What God made is a testament to His glory, but if a writer is to glorify God, I think it is a purposeful action, not an accidental happenstance resulting from our membership in the created order.

Sunday I was listening to a bit of a Mozart symphony on my way home from church, and thoughts about glorifying God resurfaced. Mozart was a talented, though likely Godless, composer. Certainly God gave him the ability to write music in such a startlingly beautiful way. But God likewise made beautiful women like Shakira or ____ (insert the person of your choice) who gives no credit to God or draws attention to Him through her beauty.

The question, then, is this: Does beauty in and of itself glorify God?

I’d argue, no it does not, unless the default position of “glorifying God” is existence.

I remember the first time a writer asked me to post a review of their book on Amazon. I was terrified. Seriously! I mean, what did I know about writing reviews? And other people–strangers–would read what I said about someone else’s book? It was beyond intimidating, but I soldiered through.

These days I’ve grown comfortable writing reviews, and yet I realize there are other readers who are still like I used to be. Consequently, they keep their opinions to themselves. Others, perhaps, have never seen the need to write reviews of the books they enjoy.

Listening to writers, I have come to the conclusion that receiving reviews makes a huge difference in how wide an audience a book reaches. Reviews, like blog tours, are replacing the back-yard buzz or the water-cooler chat that used to give one person a chance to tell others about the book they’d read and loved.

This is good news actually. In this era of the communication revolution, one person’s opinion reaches far more people today than fifteen, twenty years ago. In other words, stating your opinion has the potential to carry more influence than ever before.

Still, some people remain intimidated by the whole process. Since Spec Faith has added the review component to our library, I thought it might be helpful to look at writing reviews briefly, in the hopes that more readers will brave the waters of influence and post their thoughts here and elsewhere on the web.

First, what a review is not (or ought not to be).

• A review is not a slam. A person writing a review should not vilify either the book or the author.
• A review is not a sales pitch. At the same time, a reviewer is not a shill and should not praise the book for the sole purpose of pushing sales.
• A review is not generic. No one benefits from a review that could fit any book whatsoever.
• A review is not a novel. I admit I have trouble here, but the truth is, if a review goes on and on and on, people are less likely to read it–or read all of it. Consequently, it loses some of its impact.
• A review is not a synopsis. Generally what the story is about is available as part of the book description, so a detailed recap isn’t necessary. In addition, readers who don’t want to know the surprises or ending of a book may inadvertently learn more than they wish if a review simply retells the story.

Then what is a review?

• A review is an opinion, with reasons.

Yep, that’s pretty much it. Of course, there are good reviews and there are … other ones.

A good review, in my opinion, is balanced. Rarely are books all good or all bad, and yet one particular aspect of a story can color our views. Harry Potter is a quick and convenient example. Some people hearing that the stories were about wizards allowed that fact to color their view of the books, and they looked no further. So too for reviewers–there might be one aspect of the story or writing that caused them to feel strongly one way or the other.

I don’t think that’s bad or wrong or that a reviewer should shy away from telling such a fact. However, it’s good to be aware that not everyone will respond in the same way. Consequently, the kind of review that is most helpful doesn’t camp on just one aspect of a book–the one that caused the reviewer to love it or to hate it.

A balanced review, then, points out things that the reader liked and things they might have liked better: I liked the main character because she seemed real, but I would have liked the story better if there wasn’t so much description.

One more vital thing to remember about a balanced review. In writing the parts that are critical, it’s important to be gracious and fair. Ephesians 4: 15-16 gives us a model to follow: “But speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in all aspects into Him who is the head, even Christ, from whom the whole body, being fitted and held together by what every joint supplies, according to the proper working of each individual part, causes the growth of the body for the building up of itself in love.”)

In my opinion, a good review also takes into consideration for whom the book was intended. If a review said, “The story was juvenile” about The Three Little Pigs, he would, of course, be right. But being “juvenile” isn’t a bad thing for a story whose audience is, in fact, juveniles.

Finally, a good review will give a reader recommendation. Who, in your opinion, will most like this book? It’s just the reviewer’s opinion, so there’s no right or wrong. But what a help for readers looking for the kinds of books they want to read!

Covers, titles, endorsements, back cover copy, even first pages can be deceptive, but if a review, and especially if multiple reviews, by readers who have finished the book, say it is perfect for a certain audience, then chances are the recommendation will sway those looking for that particular type of story.

So there you have it. Now what’s holding you back from submitting your reviews of Spec Faith library books? (I hope you’re saying, What, indeed? I need to write a review this very minute, so be on the look out for it! )

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This feature is a reprint from a previous Spec Faith post.

Chorillan is the fourth book in the Chorillan Cycle, a science fiction series for adults.

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“Pretend there are Scouts waiting to help,” she said, almost whispering. “Would you let my Da come with you? I’m just as much a Scout as he is,” she added, hoping that flicker of indecision, of hope in Lucas’s eyes wasn’t just her imagination.

“We have to hurry,” was all he said. He slid his arm free and grabbed hold of her hand before she could react.

The pressure of his hand didn’t hurt, but his grip was unbreakable. His strides were long and brisk and though he didn’t hurry, Kay’li nearly had to run to keep up.

Lucas led her around the back way, behind the house and the dining hall and warehouses, up a ragged path that led to the river. The path was so faint, Kay’li suspected only Wildlings used it. They came out on the riverbank nearly fifty meters from the river shallows where they had played as children. Lucas led her across a line of stones set so far apart in the water, they had to run to span the gaps.

They emerged from the forest into a meadow maybe two kilometers from the outpost, in a section of forest no one went into. Kay’li suspected nobody but Lucas and Brad and the people in the shuttle knew it was here. The razor grass was patchy, showing signs of irregular burns from landings. She guessed the shuttle made landings three or four weeks apart.

The shuttle hummed, its engines in idle, the hatch open and everything deathly quiet. Seconds after she and Lucas stopped in the shadows of the tree line, two men in rough outdoor gear emerged from the shuttle, carrying a limp, blanket-wrapped form. Lucas inhaled sharply and his hand on her arm tightened to the point of pain. She looked at him and saw fury darken his face.

“Wildling hunters?” she guessed. He only nodded. Lines deepened around his mouth, showing how tightly he clenched his jaw. “Wildling? Dead?”

“Most kids who never come back from Phase don’t die out there, or stay out there.” His voice was little more than a harsh whisper. “They’re killed by the people who are supposed to bring them home.”

“They’re going to bury the body, aren’t they? And they won’t report it.”

“You have to fill out piles of paperwork and stay out of the field a whole moon if you kill a kid. And you don’t get a capture bonus. But if you have video showing you almost caught a kid, that keeps you on salary.” He stepped back further into the shadows, never blinking, never taking his gaze off the men.

They carried the body to the edge of the meadow, less than halfway around the rough oval from where Kay’li and Lucas stood. She turned her hand in his grasp, to hold his hand in turn. His grip tightened, almost painful, and she suspected he didn’t even know he did it. Kay’li held still, just as intent as Lucas on watching the men dig a shallow grave. They untied the blanket and tumbled the limp form out, into the hole before loosely shoveling the dirt and moss back over the form.

“That won’t keep the carrion feeders out for long,” she muttered, as the hunters returned to their shuttle.

“No body, no proof,” Lucas growled.

“How many do they bury here every year?”

“Eight, nine.”

“Is this the only place they do it?” she asked, guessing that Lucas would have other Wildlings watching at all the other outposts for such cruel actions.

“We keep track of the ones who vanish, the ones who get sucked into Rehab when Phase hits. We’ll dig up the body tonight and try to identify who it is…and let the parents know, if they wanted their child back.”

“Some don’t?”

“It’s safer to pretend Wildlings don’t run in the family.” Something in his voice, a new depth of anger and hurt, brought answering heat to Kay’li’s eyes.

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Chorillan may be purchased at Amazon and other fine book outlets.

Chapter 1 is available as a free download at Michelle Levigne’s website.