I had such a great time last month aiding Realm Makers Bookstore in Fort Worth.

So I decided to do it again.

This weekend Lorehaven, with yours truly, will rejoin this traveling story show this weekend at Great Homeschool Conventions in Cincinnati.

Where

• Duke Energy Convention Center, 525 Elm Street, Cincinnati, Ohio
• Look for booths 1719–1820!

When

• Thursday, April 25, 5 p.m. to 9 p.m. (exhibit hall admission is free this night only)
• Friday, April 26, 9:30 a.m. to 8 p.m.
• Saturday, April 27, 9:30 a.m. to 6 p.m.

I myself will be there starting early Friday afternoon, right after my flight arrives.

Online subscriptions are free to Lorehaven magazine.

What

• Realm Makers Bookstore specializes in fantastic fiction for readers of all ages written exclusively by Christian authors. It is an outgrowth of the annual Realm Makers writers conference which focuses exclusively on the genres of fantasy, science fiction and the many related genres of speculative fiction.
• Lorehaven serves Christian fans by finding biblical truth in fantastic stories. Book clubs, free webzines, and a web-based community offer flash reviews, articles, and news about Christian fantasy, science fiction, and other fantastical genres. Magazine print copies are available by request and at special events.

Who

• Realm Makers co-founder and novelist Rebecca P. Minor (The Windrider Saga series)
• Realm Makers co-founder Scott Minor
• Novelist Kerry Nietz (The DarkTrench Saga, Amish Vampires in Space)
• Novelist S. D. Grimm (Children of the Blood Moon series)
• Novelist Gillian Bronte Adams (The SongKeeper Chronicles series)
• Lorehaven magazine editor in chief (and pending nonfiction author) E. Stephen Burnett

Why

• We’re finding new and eager readers of Christian-made fantastical novels.
• We’re connecting with families, other authors, and a thriving community that loves these kinds of books.
• We are loving these real-world conversations about, say, the purpose of these books, discernment challenges, and how to find the best stories for specific readers.

How

Explore our overviews of previous events this year:

• Live at Great Homeschool Convention in Fort Worth!
• Mission Report, March 7–9, Lorehaven at Realm Makers Bookstore
• Realm Makers Bookstore, March 2019: This Is the Greatest Show
• Realm Makers Bookstore Takes Fantastic Christian Fiction to New Fans
• Mission Report, April 11–13, Lorehaven at Teach Them Diligently in Waco
• Mission Report, Supplemental: Photos from Lorehaven at Teach Them Diligently in Waco

Next, Lorehaven will feature again at this summer’s annual Realm Makers conference in July.

But I have an intriguing sense that we’ll have another related announcement sometime even sooner . . .

Godspeed!

Stephen

The movie industry has an insatiable appetite for what they know will work. With Tolkien, they have another sure thing. After all, the success of the movie versions of his epic fantasy novels proved extremely successful—and that means, popular as well as lucrative. So wouldn’t all those Lord of the Rings and Hobbit fans be just as likely to love a movie about the author of the stories they love?

On top of this obvious appeal, there’s also the emergence of another popular genre—the “story behind” story, usually dealing with the creator of an imaginary piece of literature rather than with the story itself. So we’ve had movies such as Finding Neverland, the story about the playwright J. M. Barrie who created Peter Pan, and Goodbye Christopher Robin, the story of A. A. Milne and his creation of Winnie the Pooh. Or how about The Man Who Invented Christmas, about Charles Dickens and his creation of A Christmas Carol.

What a perfect storm for a movie about John Ronald Reuel Tolkien, AKA J. R. R. Tolkien, the “father of modern epic fantasy.”

When a story comes to the big screen, there are always questions. The first is, will the movie be faithful to the source material? In the case of a biographical drama, this question seems of highest concern. Tor Magazine, in an article by Jeff LaSala, recommended that fans set a low bar of expectation, simply because the “purists” of Tolkien’s epic fantasies saw what the movie media did to the books.

I’m not sure that’s an adequate reason to assume the worst about a story dealing with a historical figure. Of course, there’s always the danger that the movie creators might want to embellish the life of a man known for his academic pursuits more than they desire to stick with the factual, documented facts of his life.

Now, I expect there will be embellishments to the story, but what matters most to fans of Tolkien is that the filmmakers are true to the man. You can only add so much extra drama without straining credibility. J.R.R. Tolkien was a man of good humor, but it was his imagination that was vast—not a life of adventure. His most defining experiences were in his youth: his upbringing, his losses, his clandestine courtship with Edith, and of course, absolutely, the Great War. So there is a lot of opportunity, and a lot to work with, here. (Ibid.)

Does “a lot to work with” translate into a good movie? I wonder. I don’t think there are the clear lines of connection with Tolkien’s life and the world he created, that there have been in the previous biographical films. Did this place inspire the idea of that imaginary story location? Were these people the reason Tolkien created those villains or that heroine?

I don’t think he left to posterity a statement that can allow us fans to know precisely what motivated him. Except for the obvious. When Tolkien was a child, for instance, he spent time exploring a variety of places, including his aunt Jane’s farm named Bag End. To be honest, I don’t know if his letters and articles and other papers might not have given more information about his prompts and motivations. I haven’t read J. R. R. Tolkien: The Biography by Humphrey Carpenter. But I would hate to find obvious places where the movie writers made stuff up just because they thought it would be cool if it were true. From the Tor article again:

I’m a little worried the filmmakers will make too many parallels between (1) Tolkien’s early life and (2) imagery that they assume a movie audience—familiar only with Jackson’s adaptations—will find recognizable. For example, Tolkien hadn’t conceived of the One Ring as a mighty artifact of evil until he set to write the sequel to The Hobbit, for example. And he hadn’t started that book until the early 1930s. So if we see too much ring emphasis, they’ll be embellishing indeed.

The other big question I have is, how will the movie portray Tolkien’s deep religious convictions? How will they show his godfather and mentor, Father Francis Xavier Morgan? Will the movie people be accurate or will they gloss over this influential, worldview-shaping, part of Tolkien’s life? LaSala agrees.

I also dearly hope they don’t shove Tolkien’s faith aside. I know this isn’t just a straight biography, but it was vitally important in his life and it’s layered deeply in his writing.

Often times I can get a clear idea of a movie from the trailers. In the case of Tolkien my questions remain. Here’s the first one, the shortest of the two, released some two months ago:

And then there’s this trailer, the longer version that gives a bigger feel for the story, released a month ago:

Here’s the official info released by Fox:

TOLKIEN explores the formative years of the renowned author’s life as he finds friendship, courage and inspiration among a fellow group of writers and artists at school. Their brotherhood strengthens as they grow up and weather love and loss together, including Tolkien’s tumultuous courtship of his beloved Edith Bratt, until the outbreak of the First World War which threatens to tear their fellowship apart. All of these experiences would later inspire Tolkien to write his famous Middle-earth novels.

Only In Theaters May 10, 2019

Directed by: Dome Karukoski

Written by: David Gleeson and Stephen Beresford

Produced by: Peter Chernin p.g.a., Jenno Topping p.g.a., David Ready p.g.a., Kris Thykier p.g.a.

Cast: Nicholas Hoult, Lily Collins, Colm Meaney, Anthony Boyle, Patrick Gibson, Tom Glynn-Carney, Craig Roberts, Laura Donnelly, Genevieve O’Reilly, Pam Ferris and Derek Jacobi

There’s enough here to intrigue me. Will I fall in love with the historical figure, or will he be subsumed by the fictionalized movie version of a story intended to earn big bucks? I guess I’ll know some time after May 10.

Have you ever had something happen in your life that illustrated the power of doubt verses belief? A time you were telling someone a simple truth, but concerning which you met with skepticism? A time when you tasted something and people doubted that you ate? I have, and I’m about to tell the story. (Note this post is a shortened, edited version of something I first wrote about for my personal blog, Travissbigidea, in Nov of 2017.)

I’m in the Army Reserve and in 2017 I and other members of my Army Reserve unit attended a training exercise that lasted a month for my unit (called JRTC) held in Fort Polk, Louisiana. Fort Polk is rather infamous among people in the US Army for not being a very pleasant place. Perhaps some of its reputation isn’t completely deserved, but I personally had a miserable time at Fort Polk.

MRE/First strike field rations. Image credit: According2Robyn

That misery included many particular aspects of my experience, including sleeping in body armor many nights and not having proper bathroom facilities (so I had to go to the woods and dig a hole on numerous occasions) but especially touched on food. Not only had I been in a field training environment for two weeks in which we ate field rations (MREs and and “First Strike” rations), we had been poorly fed during the week prior to going out into what everyone called “the box”–the place where the training exercise took place.

Food served overseas to US Army. Image credit: Thrillist

US military dining isn’t usually bad, not anymore. The modern Army usually has contractors provide meals, unlike the infamously bad Army cooks of the Vietnam War and earlier. And it happens to be true that the contractors feed us very well, almost always. The food I ate while deployed to Iraq was especially good–and I realize that may sound like a joke, but it really was true. KBR (later BR) ran the military dining facilities in Iraq while I was there in 2008 and the food was actually amazingly good at times.

Imagine much more crowding and less food and you’ll get a picture of the 52nd BSB’s meals. Image credit: Army.mil

But in the week of getting ready to go to the field in Louisiana, we had eaten hot food provided by one of the supporting units for our JRTC exercise, the 52nd Brigade Support Battalion (BSB). Which meant that instead of the contractors who usually feed troops in the modern Army, our food was actually supplied by US Army cooks. What they prepared wasn’t very tasty,  plus, the dining area was horribly mismanaged, with thousands of troops trying to pile into the same single fabric-topped building at the same time. The building was large; it sat hundreds, but the demand was in the thousands, so lines were long; sometimes food ran out before everyone ate and the hot portion of the meals usually wound up being cold. Plus there were limited places to sit, so you had to rush through the bit of food you got and the trash cans that filled up with accumulated debris from the cardboard food trays and cups and plastic eating utensils were not quickly emptied out, so piled up garbage in the back of the building became common. It was better than eating grass and dirt, but wasn’t very nice, overall.

So after coming back from the “box” we spent the night at one of the mock bases that wasn’t far outside the training area (i.e. the box). (It was called “FOB Warrior.”) We finally were in the position where we had some freedom back, even though we still were going to sleep in a barracks building that night. Some members of my Army Reserve unit were talking about ordering pizza for everyone.

But I didn’t want to pay for pizza (I’m awfully cheap at times). So I decided to trudge out to the military dining facility this base had and eat whatever food they offered. My expectations were pretty low, but food is food and its primary job is to keep you alive, so I was willing to put up with whatever they served.

Steak cooking at Kunsan Air Base in Korea. Image credit: Kunsan Air Base.

I came to a building with a fabric top, not too different from the place where the 52nd BSB had poorly fed us. But to my surprise, contractors were serving the food. And the meal was steak and shrimp. With fresh salad and fruit. With cheesecake for dessert (chilled cheesecake). The building was clean, the contractors were polite; it was really good food and furthermore, was free.

I returned to the barracks we’d been put in with the good news of how surprisingly good the food was. And I immediately met with skepticism from two soldiers, a sergeant and a captain, who both reasoned with me that what I was saying could not be true.

In fact, they acted like they believed I was trying to pull the wool over their eyes. To make fools of them. And as we talked, I remembered more details than what I had already mentioned. I said, “And they had mashed potatoes. And cans of soda in the corner, Cokes, Dr. Pepper, Sprite, lots of brands. And in addition to the cheesecake, they had chocolate chip cookies, really big cookies, soft, with M&Ms in them.”

“And I bet the woman serving them was a beautiful blonde who had really big breasts pouring out of her blouse,” said the sergeant with obvious snark.

“Yeah, Perry, I can’t help noticing this story keeps getting better and better,” added the captain with a laugh.

Answering the sergeant, I said, “Um, no. But the woman taking our numbers was really cute.” Turning to the captain, I added, “Yeah, I recognize this sounds incredible, but every word is true. Honest.”

The conversation went back and forth like that, never in the exact words I just used, but along those lines. In the end, I failed to convince them that the shrimp and steak meal really existed. But it did.

This struck me after the fact as being something like sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ with people. I had a story to tell, a true story, but my story was not believed, because it did not match things the people I told had already seen and experienced themselves. It was easier for them to think I was making it up and dismiss what I said than investigate for themselves.

It would have taken the two members of my unit a mere five minutes to walk down the road to find out if what I was saying about the meal was true or not. But they would not do it. If people won’t even walk five minutes down a road, how much more will skepticism prevent someone from giving the Gospel a chance?

“Taste and see that the Lord is good,” begins Psalm 34:8, implying the God can be known by those who want to find Him. Those who seek out and test the truth about God can find not only that He is real, but furthermore, that God is good.

My experience led me to make a few observations:

1. Those who disbelieve may in fact be very intelligent people and very convincing in their disbelief. The captain and sergeant I was speaking to were actually very smart guys. I wound up laughing after a while talking about the meal because I knew from their point of view what I was saying sounded ridiculous. Of course, when I laughed, they were only even more convinced I was trying to play a joke on them. I promised them I was not and in fact gave them more details—which should have helped them realize I wasn’t making things up (plus, I’m not the kind of person that plays this kind of joke), but that didn’t actually help. Again, these were not dumb guys—they were two of the smartest guys in my unit. They didn’t manage to convince me the meal I’d eaten didn’t exist, but they did have me doubting my own credibility.
2. Those who have tasted the meal (or otherwise experienced something good) are in fact under no obligation to explain how it happened. At the time I was talking about the meal I ate, I could and did give more information that should have made the meal make more sense, i.e. it wasn’t the 52^nd BSB serving the meal, it was civilian contractors.  Plus maybe Fort Polk wanted to make the experience coming out of field training more pleasant than going into the training. But in the end, I did not know why the change in food happened. I just knew it had happened. I offered my speculation as to why the food changed to the skeptics to help them make sense of the event I was describing. And doing that was actually a good thing. However, all I really knew is what I’d witnessed myself. A meal was served; I partook. Likewise, I experience the presence of God in my life every day. My experience is real—I can attempt to explain logically the role of God in the universe to the doubters in order to attempt to make the path to “tasting” themselves easy for them. But in fact I don’t owe them that explanation. My experience requires no explanation to make it true. And I actually may not be able to explain very well, if at all. It doesn’t matter—what I have witnessed is what I have witnessed. Which leads me to the next point:
3. Explanations of witnessed events are not required to believe them and it’s unreasonable to expect otherwise. Yes, it’s possible for people to delude themselves. Yes, it could be I imagined the meal I ate, though for me that would be more unlikely than me eating it, since I don’t regularly have delusions of eating imaginary food, no matter what the skeptics thought about the situation (though in fairness, they maintained I was trying to pull a joke on them, not that I was delusional). Yes, it could be I have imagined God’s presence in my life, but other than God, I do not in fact routinely sense people who are not around. I have every reason in fact to believe what my experience tells me, even if I cannot fully explain it. And that’s normal. Not irrational, not weird. Simply how experience ordinarily works.
4. Getting a detail wrong does not invalidate the entire witness. I realized after a bit that I had misspoken—the potatoes were not mashed potatoes, they were scalloped, though served with the kind of scoop you normally see with mashed potatoes. But getting that detail wrong did not invalidate the overall tenor of what I witnessed. Likewise, a person can be mistaken about elements of their religious life and belief while still in fact witnessing something that’s true at its core. Which leads to my final point:
5. Disbelief can be a choice. The guys I spoke with about the meal were bright. They knew they were bright. They weren’t willing to be suckered in with false info, which they knew could happen. They may have even noticed a contradiction in what I was saying, that I first mentioned mashed potatoes but later changed to scalloped. But in fact their skeptical reasoning did not and could not trump something that I had eaten myself. Something could happen they had not planned for, something that did not make sense to them. Reality can in fact go in directions they had previously ruled out as “not possible.” But instead of giving the idea they might be wrong a chance, they in effect chose to disbelieve by not even investigating what there was to investigate, by not even walking down the road for five minutes. By ruling out what I said in advance, by deciding in advance not to investigate, they decided to disbelieve. If that happens with something as simple as people disbelieving in a meal, it should be no surprise that some people in fact choose to disbelieve in the existence of God.

So for readers of this post, have you ever had a similar experience in which you were telling people truths that could have been easily verified, but you were treated with skepticism instead? Have you ever been told that something you knew happened, could not have happened? Please share your experience and thoughts in the comments below.

I love architecture. My tastes lean towards the European medieval and Renaissance eras of structural achievement. Put me in a Gothic cathedral or a Baroque palace and I will see you in a couple of days. On a recent trip to Savannah, Georgia, my family was amused at my excitement at the abundance of Victorian- and Colonial-style homes that were thankfully spared General Sherman’s fiery March to the Sea during the twilight of the Civil War. I devour books and documentaries about historical architectural marvels, and while I appreciate modern steel-and-glass structures (I’ve seen the tallest building in the world, the Burj Khalifa, with my own eyes), I feel more in awe of the ornate stone and woodwork in structures built centuries that end with “teen.”

Simply put, architecture is the language of empires, dynasties, and conquerors. Manuscripts can be lost, food and fashion can transcend eras, language changes constantly, but every time a new ruler emerges or a culture shifts, these transitions are clearly delineated in the buildings and monuments that are subsequently produced. It’s a way for kings to leave their mark on their kingdoms during and after their lifetimes. It’s a way for colonial powers to remind the conquered of their masters, even if those masters aren’t present as a significant population. It’s a way to inspire awe and reverence and to instill pride in one’s homeland. Even the smallest village or farm town has a building or structure of note, at least for the locals.

If we look at the Bible, we also see the importance of impressive buildings, particularly in construction of the temple in Jerusalem. The description of Solomon’s temple is glorious, and while we have numerous examples of elaborate structures intended for worship throughout history, none has actually been inhabited by the presence of the Lord itself. The temple in Jerusalem was truly more than just an incredible building, and it represented more than just an imposing space for the Jews to worship. It was consecrated ground with clear boundaries. There was a place for everyone, a place for the priests, and a place for the Holy of Holies.

Image copyright Lucasfilm Ltd.

The rule of thumb for architecture is usually “bigger is better,” and this applies even to fictional structures. The Empire in Star Wars built enormous cruiser ships and of course, the Death Star. The Borg in Star Trek built massive cubes. The Lord of the Rings has a number of structural marvels, such as Barad-dûr, Isengard, the White City, the mines of Moria, Rivendell, and more. Just as real-life kingdoms and empires build things to leave a lasting impression, many realms of science fiction and fantasy devote keen attention to the structures in their stories, which can become characters themselves.

I don’t expect everyone to share my enthusiasm for architecture, but there is far more to a building than just bricks and mortar, especially if it has survived the sands of time. I would encourage you to dig into the history of notable buildings in your area, and I assure you that you will find more than you would expect. And when you come across prominent structures in books or movies, take note of how well (or how poorly) the writers give a sense of historical depth to these buildings, even if it is just in passing.

The old saying goes “If these walls could talk…” As a matter of fact, they do.

Team Lorehaven has returned from the Teach Them Diligently homeschooling conference in Waco, Texas last weekend.

Our booth featured writer Marian Jacobs, creative relations Lacy Rhiannon (my wife), and myself (publisher/editor).

We met dozens of families. Usually we asked them, “Hi! Do you all like to read?”

Most people said, “Oh yes.” A few said, “Yes, but don’t have as much time as I’d like.”

I’d say perhaps 70 percent said something like, “Yes, but my children are reading like crazy. And far above their reading level. I can’t keep up!”

Then we shared our mission: Lorehaven finds truth in fantastic stories.

• Free to subscribe online.
• You get magazines each season.
• Print copies are sold at special events.
• Each issue has 12+ reviews of new Christian fantasy.
• Also: articles from trusted voices about biblical fiction discernment.
• We give away free resources, such as bookmarks with tips to discern and explore stories.

Some parents politely nodded or said merely, “Thank you,” before moving on.

But for each one of these less-interested folks, three other parents or students immediately got our mission.

We shared favorite stories. We asked parents what their kids love to read.

And we kept hearing people say things like, “I’m so glad you guys are doing this. There’s such a need!”

Frankly, this encouraged my heart all over again. Until you get out there, and talk to real people, you never really know if this whole “Christians asking one another for good Christian-made fantastical stories” thing is just a strung-out internet fad.¹

But yes. Again our belief is proven true: many new fans for excellent Christian-made fantastical novels are out there.

They’re chasing biblical truth. They’re seriously investing in their children’s learning. And they’re training their children to read–not just to read the Bible, or biographies, or textbooks, but to read imaginative fantastical novels.²

We talked to so many people that I couldn’t take specific notes. And yet . . .

Fantastic Christian fans to remember

• The woman with three children (seen here). They absolutely loved our fantasy creatures, and eagerly drew amazing, imaginative pictures.
• A young woman (age 20, I believe) who’d grown up loving fantasy novels. Including Harry Potter. We signed her up for a subscription under the pseudonym “Mermaid Queen.” (Yes, you can also subscribe for free with a fictional name! We won’t judge you.)
• The woman who strode up to the booth and almost immediately said, “Oh yes! You’re Lorehaven. Your magazine reviews Christian fantasy and sci-fi novels.” She’d met us first with Realm Makers Bookstore in Fort Worth, the previous month. She hadn’t signed up then, but she did this time.
• A man I’ll call “D&D Dad” who asked if I’d ever played the RPG. Thanks to that one late-night introduction at my wife’s family’s house last Thanksgiving, I could tell him yes! We had such a great conversation. Later he prayed for my wife’s and my own future foster-parenting.
• So many Lord of the Rings fans, and fluent in the finer points of Middle-earth’s origin and mythology.
• The young couple who really geeked out. And showed us photos they’d taken of a huge Greatest Showman–themed homeschool prom in Dallas, where they’d taken photos.
• The mother of six children, including two teens, most of whom love fantasy.
• Another mother of several fantasy-fan daughters! Their oldest girl signed up. Her pseudonym: “Magical Unicorn.”
• For balance: The other large-family mother who passed by and kindly replied, “Yes, we like to read. But based on the way you’re dressed, probably not what you’re offering.” (Ha ha! Well, it’s only a matter of time. Fantastical stories will eventually appeal to the heart of at least one of your children. Then the only question is: will you be prepared?)
• And, finally, the mother who’d stopped by earlier but dashed up just as we were packing up the booth. She subscribed! And got a free bookmark.

Next stops: Cincinnati and Realm Makers 2019

As we grow the magazine, and possibly add new items such as books, we’ll be able to visit more locations.

Later this month, I’ll represent Lorehaven at Great Homeschool Convention in Cincinnati. I’ll be there from Friday to Saturday, April 26–27, rejoining our friends with the Realm Makers Bookstore. (The event actually begins Thursday, April 25.) We’re featuring great books, all by Christian authors, in fantasy, sci-fi, and other fantastical genres.

In July, we’ll feature Lorehaven again at the annual Realm Makers conference, returning to St. Louis July 18–20.

Please pray for us. This remains a big step. And it’s a big investment of time and resources for many of Speculative Faith’s creatives.

Of course, if you’re an author or publisher wanting to share your story with new fans, advertise with us.³

Either way, know and rejoice: In an age of closing bookstores and creative skeptics, Christian fantasy’s best days are happily ahead.

Further up and further in!

Stephen

Do all stories of sacrifice point to Jesus Christ? I mean, clearly His sacrifice is the central tenet of Christianity. In His death He bore our sins; by His stripes we are healed; through His resurrection power, we are raised to newness of life.

But in stories, are all sacrifices re-telling, in miniature, this same old story upon which our salvation hinges?

Some of the classic fantasy stories have been tied to Christ’s sacrifice: Aslan in Narnia, Gandalf in Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter in Harry Potter.

But there are any number of other stories that also contain a self-sacrificing hero. Katniss in Hunger Games, for example when she went to the games in place of her sister. The hero in Sally Apokadak’s The Button Girl, who appears to sacrifice himself for the king. Shannon Dittmore’s hero in Angel Eyes, and on and on. In most cases, the connection between the sacrificing hero and Christ seems tangible. He willingly puts his life on the line so that another may go free.

I’ve explored this topic of sacrifice and Christ-figures before. Perhaps more pertinent is Shannon McDermmot’s article “What Isn’t Christian Fiction” in which she says

I’ve heard of a lot of Christ-figures in famous fantasy, whether Gandalf or Harry Potter or Aslan. They usually aren’t; Aslan is the exception that proves the rule. A heroic death, followed by resurrection, holds scant parallel to Christ’s death and resurrection. In the first place, the evil Christ died to save us from was our own; this is rarely echoed even in fantasy’s heroic deaths. In the second, there is nothing extraordinary about resurrection in science fiction and especially in fantasy. Characters in fantasy novels are like witches in Narnia: You can always get them back.

I can’t help but wonder, though, if the “magic” of bringing a character back isn’t in many ways the same magic of spring: the plant dies in the winter, only to come back in newness of life the following spring.

In those cases, though, there is no sacrifice—only death and resurrection. The issue of sacrifice seems more determinative to me in identifying the work of Christ. After all, Easter isn’t just the miracle of Christ coming out of the grave. He didn’t die of old age and then gain new life as an example to us what our future holds.

Before resurrection came sacrifice. Christ died to do what we could not do for ourselves. He died as the sacrificial Lamb who takes away the sin of the world. Perhaps the earliest picture that pointed to Christ was God killing an animal to provide covering for the sinful pair in the garden.

Clearly sacrifice and death are tied together when it comes to what Christ did for us, but perhaps in fiction the whole story doesn’t have to be represented. Perhaps an aspect—a sacrifice that isn’t a death—can still point to Christ.

I’m not a comic book person or a fan of superhero stories, but the little I’ve gleaned about various stories (or movies I’ve seen), lead me to believe that sacrifice is a centerpiece in many. As E. Stephen Burnett wrote in “Thunders Of ‘Thor’ Echo Biblical Truths, Part 2.”

Naturally this [Thor’s self-sacrifice to save the lives of innocents] reminds me of Christ. Any hero who sacrifices himself to save others will do that. It’s part of the all truth is God’s truth that can get into even pagan mythologies.

Pagan mythologies, Christian fiction, secular fantasy. What about science fiction or horror? Again, my knowledge of those genres is thin. Was Luke Skywalker a Christ figure when he took his ship into a dogfight he had no business winning in an attempt to destroy the Death Star? Was Hans Solo a representative of Christ when he gave up his will to leave the fight and go back to save Luke? Or how about Spock when he apparently dies, only to return in a later Star Trek movie?

Aren’t all these stories echoes of the Greatest Story ever told?

No, they don’t give the details (except perhaps for C. S. Lewis’s The Lion, The Witch, And The Wardrobe), but in the same way that spring points to the promise of new life, don’t these stories of sacrifice point to the sacrifice that makes a difference for all time, for every person?

Perhaps Easter is the best time of year to read a great novel, one that portrays a hero’s sacrifice.

Our guest blog this week, part of our From The Writers’ Tool Chest resources, is an article by soon-to-be published YA fantasy author Jillian Boehme. Her first published novel, Stormrise, will come out with Tor Teen in September.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Once upon a time, I swore I couldn’t write novels.

It’s funny, isn’t it, the stories we tell ourselves? I self-published a non-fiction book in 2002—a collection of anecdotal stories about stay-at-home motherhood—and was convinced I was an essayist and nothing more. (Not that there’s anything wrong with being an essayist. It just . . . wasn’t really me.)

Then one day I read a children’s novel and absolutely hated it—and had the notion that I could, perhaps, do better. Fiction was, after all, my go-to for reading pleasure. Especially fantasy.

So I wrote a YA fantasy novel, and oh, what a glorious mess it was. I didn’t realize it was a mess, though, and I gleefully passed chapter after chapter to my two oldest children, who devoured it and created fan art and GIFS and wrote letters to my characters. Just the fuel a write-at-home mom needs to keep the literary fire burning, yes?

I wasn’t just writing, though; I was researching the publishing industry. At the time, electronic submissions were new, and not many agents accepted them. My first stack of rejection letters was comprised of honest-to-goodness paper and envelopes. (I keep them in my bedside drawer tied with a red ribbon.)

I wrote a second novel. And a third. In 2008, I started Miss Snark’s First Victim, a blog for aspiring authors. It was a wonderful way to connect with the vibrant community of writers online, offering them encouragement and advice while continuing to press forward with my own journey. The in-house critique sessions and Secret Agent Contests (with a “secret” guest agent critiquing each entry and offering requests to the winners) created an environment in which participants were not only growing as writers, but also were landing agents—and eventually book deals.

Imagine the headiness of watching other people’s success unfolding as a result of the blog! And imagine the sense, as the months and years continued to pass, of being left behind, as my colleagues went on to publish their debut novels while I continued to despair of ever landing an agent.

Sometimes I cried. Sometimes I declared that I was giving up (my husband never let me get away with that one). But always I kept going. Kept writing. Kept dreaming.

After five (long) years, I finally signed with an agent, who had fallen in love with my YA science fiction novel and was eager to sell it.

He didn’t. We submitted a different novel. That one didn’t sell, either. Neither did the third. As time wore on, friends and colleagues started to counsel me to leave him. “The wrong agent is worse than no agent at all,” they would say. “He’s not selling you; move on.”

I really loved this guy, though. And every time I asked God if I should leave my agent and find a new one, the answer in my deepest heart was “no.”

So I stayed.

Midway through my time with him, my agent hired an assistant who became involved with the editing process of my novels. I loved her immediately! She was bright and talented and very soon began to take on clients of her own. By this time, I was on my fourth novel-on-submission (which also didn’t sell). My new manuscript was a YA fantasy, and I was concerned that my agent wouldn’t be a good fit for it—he didn’t represent fantasy.

His assistant, however, did. And so I asked him, over a sushi lunch in New York City, if perhaps Danielle could take over my next project. He gave me an enthusiastic yes, and several months later, with a completed draft in hand, my relationship with Danielle was formalized.

Five years and four unsold novels later, I was ready for a fresh start. My season of waiting wasn’t over, though; the YA fantasy didn’t sell, either, bringing my unsold total to five.

Not a very impressive track record. And an interesting thing happened at this point: I stopped dreaming.

I didn’t stop writing. I didn’t stop doing everything I needed to do to make sure my next novel was the best it could be. But the wild-hearted hope for a book sale—and a future as a published author—had died. Instead, I plugged on with the doggedness of someone who keeps going because there’s nothing else to do. Quitting was never an option.

Never.

And the novel I wrote without dreaming was the one that sold. Danielle cried more than I did during the big phone call; I think I was too stunned to feel the moment.

Twelve years. Two agents. Five unsold novels.

Honestly? I wouldn’t trade my journey for anything. Over the lifetime of my blog (which I still run), many of my readers were encouraged to keep writing—to never give up—because I kept writing and never gave up. And, let’s be honest—it’s harder to walk away from something when people are watching you, cheering you on, waiting to celebrate your success with you.

I’m thankful for who I am because of this (long!) journey; I’m thankful that I can look other writers in the eye and say, “If I could keep writing for twelve years, you can keep writing for another day.” Because it was always one day at a time, one paragraph at a time, one story at a time.

Now? I’m living my dream—the one that had to die so I could be about the business of writing without emotional encumbrance. Though, really, I suppose it never actually died. Just went to sleep for a while.

Is your dream sleeping? Give it a gentle poke. Your gifts, no matter what they are, were planted in you for a purpose. Making the decision not to give up will be so worth it.

I promise.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Author Bio

Jillian Boehme, AKA Authoress, proprietor of the writers’ blog, Miss Snark’s First Victim

You may find her online in these places:
Author web site: www.jillianboehme.com
Twitter: @Jillian Boehme
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/JillianBoehmeAuthor/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jillian.boehme/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7234281.Jillian_Boehme
Miss Snarks’s First Victim: www.misssnarksfirstvictim.blogspot.com

Stormrise Blurb

A combat warrior will risk everything to awaken the dragons and save her kingdom in Jillian Boehme’s epic YA Fantasy debut, Stormrise, inspired by Twelfth Night and perfect for fans of Tamora Pierce.

If Rain weren’t a girl, she would be respected as a Neshu combat master. Instead, her gender dooms her to a colorless future. When an army of nomads invades her kingdom, and a draft forces every household to send one man to fight, Rain takes her chance to seize the life she wants.

Knowing she’ll be killed if she’s discovered, Rain purchases powder made from dragon magic that enables her to disguise herself as a boy. Then she hurries to the war camps, where she excels in her training―and wrestles with the voice that has taken shape inside her head. The voice of a dragon she never truly believed existed.

As war looms and Rain is enlisted into an elite, secret unit tasked with rescuing the High King, she begins to realize this dragon tincture may hold the key to her kingdom’s victory. For the dragons that once guarded her land have slumbered for centuries . . . and someone must awaken them to fight once more.

What I’ve written here is an acknowledgment of the power of fiction and the presence of God wrapped in a type of emotional appeal, an appeal that starts with talking about dreams. Note that I’m not limited to making emotional appeals when I talk about God—I also can make an intellectual case, as I did writing for Speculative Faith with my “Car-Universe Without a Motor” series. But note also that unlike someone who is convinced human beings are nothing more than a product of evolution, for whom emotion has no deeper meaning (much of it supposedly a leftover from our so-called “reptile brain”), a believer in God has grounds to think emotions as well as reason matter in their proper context–that emotion can bring a person to acknowledgement of truth. God created feelings as much as rational capacities and each have the power to point the way back to their Creator.

My emotions were wrapped up in a vivid dream I had as a child in which I extended my arms and a strong wind wrapped around me and lifted me into the sky. The wind followed me, like Elijah perhaps, and whirled around me. But unlike Elijah, who went where the Lord directed him, the wind in my dream carried me wherever I wanted to go, me tilting my arms like a bird to fly wherever I wished.

I awoke from the dream saddened by its loss—but determined to retain that memory forever. I of course only partially succeeded. Now it’s just a faded memory of a memory, drained of all its color, but still retaining a very small portion of its power.

Recently I had a similar dream, of being an acrobat of such effortless skill that my leaps and twists In the air didn’t drain me of energy and left me hanging upward long seconds before coming back to ground. This is of course something I’ve never actually done and probably could not ever do the way I dreamed of it even if I had trained to be an acrobat from my childhood—at least not in the gravity of Planet Earth. On the Moon, or “a” moon, such activity would be much easier.

There’s something in me that is not limited to a desire to fly—or leap—and wishes it could be in a world other than my own. I want to see alien stars. And vistas. And explore strange worlds.

Speculative fiction taps into some of these desires, doesn’t it? We with our protagonists via our imaginations get to hunker down on the neck of our trusty dragon as it glides through the air.

Image credit: Mediablix https://www.videoblocks.com/video/riding-a-dragon-over-snowy-mountains-pov-b-_2tt_2xj0u9zep3

Or we can maneuver our starship to the place we see the entire galaxy stretched out before use like a gem-studded tapestry. Or many other things.

Image Copyright: Tania Gabrielle

Why do I dream of walking on the Moon or other moons? Why do I long to see alien stars?

Why, if I am the supposed product of vast ages of evolution, would I not be much more automatically focused on my own survival, much more interested in keeping myself alive? Why do I long for beauty? And not just the familiar beauty of things I’ve seen, but also the beauty of things I have never seen? The thrill of experiences I’ve never had?

Could it be that fiction that steps out of the world we live in on a daily basis has the power to point out that this world, the one we reside in, is not enough for us? That we long for more because more must surely exist? That we long for a form of eternity and transcendence because God has stored up these things for those in a relationship with Him? That these treasures can be found in a spiritual sense in this life but also in a very literal sense in the next?

Speculative fiction can do much more than point the way to unseen beauty—it can even do harm, by glorifying evil and mocking that which is good. But heroes who stand of for what is really right and true in fiction reflect the genuine struggle that exists between good and evil, a struggle that’s not limited to events our human eyes can see during our earthly lifetimes.

A hero I have never met, because he never existed, of a species which never existed, faced a villainess who tried to overwhelm all sense of anything the group could see beyond the Underworld. “There is no sun” she said, strumming music as she enchanted them. She told them the sun was something they imagined based on lamps, that Aslan was something they imagined based on housecats, that the very “Overworld” was simply a product of their imagination, that the world around them of underground caverns was all that existed. All that had ever existed.

The hero stomped on a fire, burning his marshwiggle flesh, and said, in part:

Credit: lukerichards.blogspot.com

“All you’ve been saying is quite right, I shouldn’t wonder. I’m a chap who always liked to know the worst and then put the best face I can on it. So I won’t deny any of what you said. But there’s one thing more to be said, even so. Suppose we have only dreamed, or made up, all those things—trees and grass and sun and moon and stars and Aslan himself. Suppose we have. Then all I can say is that, in that case, the made-up things seem a good deal more important than the real ones. Suppose this black pit of a kingdom of yours is the only world. Well, it strikes me as a pretty poor one. And that’s a funny thing, when you come to think of it. We’re just babies making up a game, if you’re right. But four babies playing a game can make a play-world which licks your real world hollow. That’s why I’m going to stand by the play-world. I’m on Aslan’s side even if there isn’t any Aslan to lead it. I’m going to live as like a Narnian as I can even if there isn’t any Narnia.”

Our longing, our dreams of other worlds are worth having, our God is worth following, even if we had no rational grounds to believe in our God or in the real existence of a life after this one. We do have a number of logical grounds, but even if we didn’t, our dreams, our so-called play-world, as Puddleglum said, “licks the real world hollow.” So we should live then for that “play-world,” for its values and the values of its Master, and not for this grungy world of grubbing to survive, advance, and dominate. And the very best speculative stories have tremendous power to remind us of that.

Let this perspective on dreams of other worlds shape what you write, my friends.