The 2017 Spec Faith Winter Writing Challenge will accept entries until midnight tomorrow, Sunday, January 15. That’s midnight Pacific time.

Next week we can continue reading the entries, thumbing the ones we like best, and commenting so contestants can learn from the responses. It’s always helpful to get feedback.

I have to say, I’m once again impressed with what those who have entered, did with a simple opening sentence prompt. The array of story ideas is impressive!

Reading these make me love speculative fiction all the more! So many creative ideas. And twists, reversals, surprises. All in just a few words.

We who are reading and enjoying your stories or story starters, bless you! May your tribe continue to increase!

Wickers Bog: A Tale Of Southern Gothic Horror

by Mike Duran

<img src="http://www.speculativefaith.lorehaven.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/01/cover_WickersBog-266×400.jpg" alt="" width="266" height="400" class="alignright size-large wp-image-25744" INTRODUCTION

Every autumn, when the weather turned and the wind came off the marsh, the dark waters of Wickers Bog gave up its ghosts and reawakened the old yarns.

Julene Ella Haddan is about to be drawn into one of them.

It was a grey, joyless day, when young Julene heard the song of the siren and followed its melody into the enchanted swamp… a journey which led her into a tale of murder and deceit. It’s only the fated who hear the siren. Yet Julene’s fate now seems bound to the fabled Lady of Lisenby, the spectral gatekeeper of the Bog, queen of the haunted deep. However, is it justice the Lady seeks or is Julene the siren’s next victim?

Myth and mystery collide in this short, 34-page tale of Southern Gothic horror.

WICKERS BOG — EXCERPT

Chapter One

All that remained visible of Lisenby Plantation—the original house, that is—was a tottering, moss-draped cupola and weathervane that rose the height of a porch column above the black water of Wickers Bog. With a good throw, I could reach the rotted peak. But skipping the stone across the water was always the most successful. Though I’d repeatedly attempted the feat, never once had I struck the weathervane, as Cole claimed to have done. Like many things my brother boasted, I had my doubts about them. Being his younger sister, I’d learned not to challenge him. Especially when it was a claim to physical superiority, which Cole was unusually eager to reinforce.

Neither Cole nor I was around for the storm of ’18. Nans said she was a child then, but I suspect she was more near a young lady. She told the story over and over, like she’d rehearsed the events for years, her sole intent being to populate our minds with furniture from that legend. Mostly she expounded upon the Lady of Lisenby and how the woman got trapped upstairs, confined to her bed and drowned, shrieking for help as the black cold floodwaters took her life. That part especially seemed to pique Nans’ enthusiasm. Some might’ve mistook her vigor for relish. Rather, despite her vocal disdain for the local occult lore, and spiritualism in general, Nans was unusually privy to the folk tales that old women and children liked to pass on round the town of Meredith. What made the Lisenby event so disturbing was the charge of murder, which Nans disseminated with unrepentant, dramatic flair.

Allegedly, the Lady’s master had crippled her in the worst way. While accounts differed, most involved the removal of her legs so as to keep her bedridden. Some said it was out of jealousy for her beauty, which he refused to share with other men; some said it was punishment for an indiscretion. Others conjectured he simply went lunatic like his daddy who’d spent his final days in the state hospital in Convent. Whatever the truth, his actions were deemed criminal. Especially after her demise. If you listened closely, they said, the Lady’s screams could still be heard in Wickers Bog. Usually during autumn, when the weather turned and the wind came off the marsh, when the nights caused those dark waters to give up their ghosts and reawaken the old yarns.

You could say that this is one of them.

Funneled in by the Mississippi River gulf outlet, the levees and floodwalls had been breached by the storm that year. But it was the west side of the canal that took the beating. Our side. You’d have thought that the builders would’ve anticipated such flooding and moved the mansion to higher ground. They hadn’t. Supposedly it was some geographical anomaly upriver that funneled the water into the slight basin that Lisenby occupied. It resulted in the almost complete submergence of the Plantation house and happened so quickly that most of the servants were trapped. As was the Lady.

Nans liked to say it was fate that spread those murky tendrils racing toward the properties, that it was fat which filled the Lady’s lungs with flood water.

Nans was big on fate,

Perhaps it was that belief which had burrowed its way into my brain. Like a crawfish in a mud bank the thought nestled there—fate. I’d always fancied something special would come of my life. Me, Julene Ella Haddan. Fated. I’d survived the fever. And unlike many of those in Meredith, I could read and write. Some even said I had the gift, although Nans was resolute about me avoiding a public profession of such gifting. What I did not take into account was that my destiny would involve the unleashing of divine judgment. Much less, that it would be executed through the Lady of Lisenby.

It began on a grey, joyless day. The sun was a rusty orb on the horizon. Ribbons of pale light streamed between the swamp cypress, blanching the fen ochre and casting a pall across the eve. Autumn was usually short and undramatic in these parts; an occasional chill breeze signaled its arrival, and a few Red Oaks, their leaves in various shades of gold and red, shone bright between the evergreens. As always, a malignant shroud seemed to drape Wickers Bog.

AUTHOR BIO

MIKE DURAN is a novelist, blogger, and speaker, whose short stories, essays, and commentary have appeared in Relief Journal, Relevant Online, Bewildering Stories, Rue Morgue, Zombies magazine, Breakpoint, and other print and digital outlets. He is the author of THE GHOST BOX (Blue Crescent Press, 2014), which was selected by Publishers Weekly as one of the best indie novels of 2015 and first in a paranoir series that continues with SAINT DEATH (2016), a Southern Gothic Horror short “WICKERS BOG” (2016), a short story anthology SUBTERRANEA (Blue Crescent Press, 2013), the supernatural thrillers THE TELLING (Realms May 2012) and THE RESURRECTION (Realms, 2011), an e-book fantasy novella entitled WINTERLAND (Amazon digital, Oct. 2011), and a non-fiction exploration on the intersection between the horror genre and evangelical fiction entitled CHRISTIAN HORROR (Blue Crescent Press May 2015). You can learn more about Mike Duran, his writing projects, cultural commentary, philosophical musings, and arcane interests, at www.mikeduran.com.

Imagine a parallel world in which movie or TV actors behave like some writers I’ve seen.

Let’s say you become a big fan of a trending A-list actor, “Chris Lawrence.” You search for his name. What comes up? Perhaps his Tumblr feed, Facebook page, or Twitter account. Now imagine if all-American actor Chris Lawrence only says things like, “Practiced my acting today. Lots of trouble acting happy when I’m so sad inside.” Or, “I just read my latest movie’s script. It has 67,984 words.” Or, “Here’s a screenshot of an email with my agent.”

Or, perhaps even worse, “Learn A-List Acting 101 with Chris Lawrence! Delve deep into the secrets of 1) getting into character, 2) cutting up with Jimmy Fallon, 3) SO MUCH MORE.”

That would be weird. Instead you would first see publicity photos. Or shots from his actual movies. Or updates about convention appearances. Or maybe the occasional personal thought about the themes of his recent movies.

Shouldn’t novelists perhaps do more of the same?

Disclaimer time. This topic and challenge is risky for at least three reasons:

1. I’m still only a fan, not a published author (not even self-published).
2. I have many author friends. I don’t, and won’t, “pick on” anyone.
3. If I go on about this, I’ll end up turning hypocrite in two ways—either right now, by myself focusing this article narrowly on authors, or else in the future, about 40 years or so, when you may get the E. Stephen Burnett Complete Novel-O-Rama Training Course Seminar To Write SplendidFiction™ and Be a Trim Healthy Author for Just $0.35 A Day.

That aside, as a fan-not-published-author, I don’t get why so many authors (or aspiring authors) instead focus so narrowly on the arguably dullest parts of what they do: writing and editing and the publishing industry.

As if their fans want to get behind the authorial scenes most of the time.

As if their fans want to know not only the release day and plot of the author’s next yarn, but also the release delay reasons, wordcounts, publisher inside info, and not to mention those infamous agents and deadlines and periods of midnight self-crippling doubt, amirite?

Also—and here I must be very careful—especially when famous successful authors showcase their Author Training Courses, I suspect a gimmick. What happened to you, All-American Novelist? Did you run out of novel ideas? Is this a retirement job? Did you get old and have your fun, so now you’ll sell your inventions so that everyone can have powers—everyone can be super?

Of course, there may be reasons for these writing-and-publishing-industry emphases to hit me all wrong:

• First, actual pro authors may find their fans love this kind of stuff. Maybe I’m an outlier.
• Second, clearly fans of fantastical or speculative fiction love writing this sort of thing themselves, more than, say, the fans of John MacArthur devotionals. So it stands to reason fantasy/speculative fans like more behind-the-scenes info than most.

And of course a good author wants to build personal relationships with fans. It would be bizarre and a bit inhuman to hide every detail of the author’s writing and publication process, as if it’s taboo.

But when I think of some writers—no one by name, but an overall impression—I struggle to recall their story “face.” I struggle to recall their recent novel titles, much less character names.

Instead, I retrieve this rather comparatively bland word association: writer.

I first recall impressions of memes, updates, screencaps, and essays about writing.

I’m not a fan of this kind of writing-and-editing-and-industry-info-dumping.

And I can’t help but suspect that even a slight focus on these details keeps the genre(s) of fantastical storytelling-by-Christian-authors from growing.

Mind you, I love writing myself. If I didn’t love it, I wouldn’t be here.

But I don’t enjoy actually writing about writing all that much. The topic is boring.

I’d rather not focus publicly about how stories were made, but explore the stories we love.

I’d rather not dwell on a talented actor’s technique, but watch his or her movie.

I’d rather not know about sausage-making, but enjoy a sausage-egg-and-cheese biscuit.

I speak first as an aspiring fan. But surely these passionate writers themselves don’t benefit much from talking about writing more than they actually, you know, do it. I shared this article by Hannah Strickler Anderson, who recently resolved “to talk less and write more”:

I don’t want to build a community around my writing; I want my writing to help you build your community.

This seems to broaden one’s appeal beyond niche groups of blog or social-network allies.

This would also give more time to actually gain craft expertise. In reply to this article, some storytellers said they’d known people who seemed more enamored with talking about writing than spending time exploring the stories they love. (Strangely enough, those people often find little to actually write—time, perhaps, that they’d spent talking about writing.)

What if you do not love only stories in general?

What if you also want to see Christian-made fantastical stories grow and find more fans?

Well, if our websites and blogs and social-network shares focus on writing-industry things—that is, if our writing-and-editing-and-industry talk effectively becomes the hook for our marketing—our audience could shrink even more than usual:

• From: people on the internet and who are Christians and/or appreciate fantastical stories and who go looking for this sort of thing for themselves or their loves ones and who have better-than-most attention spans and happen to find your website and happen to be drawn to your article and don’t mind buying books …
• To: people who miraculously fall into all those categories, but also live and breathe for discussions about craft/industries of writing and editing and publishing.

This is one stumbling block we can easily remove so these amazing stories can grow.

Writing, and talking-about-writing, is a means to an end: stories. So authors, let’s not tell as much about craft-of-writing, but show more of the stories we love.

Adolf Hitler has long been the go-to guy when you need an evil comparison. I would wager that most people in positions of power have been called “Hitler” at some point or another. Not to mention that Hitler, and the whole Nazi Reich, were the perfect bad guys. Homogeneous (by their own efforts), sharply dressed in intimidating uniforms, a very eye-catching logo and distinct greeting gesture (quite the opposite of “Live Long and Prosper”), and a coldly mechanical and unstoppable war machine bent on global domination *evil laugh.* You can’t write a better fictitious villain or enemy if you tried.

That’s why many writers and filmmakers haven’t tried. Sometimes the Nazis appear in entertainment as themselves, utilizing science or even magic for their nefarious ends, e.g., Raiders of the Lost Ark, The Rocketeer, Hellboy, Captain America. The new hit series on Amazon Prime The Man in the High Castle takes place in an alternate reality where the Nazi Reich has triumphed over its enemies and now essentially rules the world, and most of the USA. Russians and Chinese make frequent appearances in movies and books as the bad guys, but the fear they impart is often due to their geographic and population size and historically anti-freedom ideologies, but since we have seen Communism fail time and again, these countries have lost much of their villainous appeal.

In a baffling reversal of fortunes, Germany is now an essential American ally, as well as being a model country of Western values and structure. There is little question that Europe would collapse if Germany were removed from the picture. On the other side of the world, Japan has also gotten its act together and has become the most advanced and one of the most prosperous countries on the planet in just a few short decades after total devastation. However, the Japanese have always lacked that je ne sais quois the Nazi Germans had that made them such appealing bad guys from a storytelling perspective.

That’s because they were truly terrifying. Atrocities have been committed by countless regimes across history, and the Japanese were massacring hordes in their own campaigns, but the concentration camps became the icon of modern villainy. Genocide and extermination have been attempted numerous times in the past, but the Nazis seemed to have a real shot at making it a worldwide reality. They were cruelly godless, targeting God’s chosen people and other races and cultures in an attempt to create a “Master Race.” How often have we seen a dastardly villain monologue about similar goals? The Nazis didn’t come up with the idea, but they made it melodramatic.

It’s no secret that the Galactic Empire in the Star Wars saga draws heavily from the Nazi Reich. I mean, they even have “stormtroopers.” The uniforms, the “Death March,” the emotionless, calculating plans for galactic domination…Hitler would have been proud. There have been many comparisons between Emperor Palpatine and Hitler, with Darth Vader being compared to Heydrich or Himmler.

With today’s global political climate churning up talk of “populism,” “nationalism,” “alt-right,” and the “police state,” will we see more Nazi-inspired villainy?

The list of new books to read stretches in front of us bookworms like the interstate in Nebraska. It never seems to end.

In this case, however, that’s a glorious reality. We’ll never run out of books to read, even if we’re the most insanely proficient speed reader in the history of speed reading. Even if our reading skills match those of the Flash.

With a new year often comes one of the better resolutions you can make: to read a certain number of books. Goodreads goals abound, as we anticipate with bright-eyed eagerness the bookish possibilities. All the worlds to explore, characters to meet, adventures to embark upon. What could better?

Last year, I read a remarkably pitiful total of five fiction books. That’s right, five.

This year, with finishing college I hope to do much better. I’m not going to set a specific goal, but I do have a solid TBR list. Including but not limited to:

King’s Blood. The second book in Jill Williamson’s Kinsman Chronicles. The first book, King’s Folly, was probably the best Christian fantasy novel I’ve read.

The Wingfeather Saga. My siblings have read it. Some of my best friends have read it. They all insist it’s phenomenal. Guess I’d better get cracking.

Calamity. Can’t wait to see how the Reckoners series wraps up. But I have faith in Brandon Sanderson’s storytelling genius.

Siren’s Fury and Siren’s Song. Storm Siren, the first book, was one of the lucky few that made it into my I-actually-read-it list last year. And wow, was it good. Excited to see what the rest of the trilogy has in store.

Harry Potter books 4-7. Yeah, I know. I haven’t read the entire series yet. I plowed through the first three (aka the short ones) a couple years ago, then life became busy. One of these days, I’ll finish and finally find out what 75% of the population already knows.

A Draw of Kings. High time I finished this fascinating fantasy trilogy.

Raising Dragons. Heard a lot of great things about the series and the ones following. Need to experience the coolness for myself.

Oathbringer. YES. YES. YES. Let the day come swift and dawn with the radiance of a thousand suns. This is gonna be beyond epic.

What’s on your TBR list for 2017?

It’s time for our winter writing challenge!

Winter lends itself to snuggling inside with a good book. For writers, that “good book” might be the one you’re writing. Either way, we’d like to add to your winter writing and reading joy.

As we have for the last several years, Spec Faith is holding a winter writing challenge, a type of writing exercise, with rewards. There’s feedback from other Spec Faith visitors and there’s the potential for a $25 gift card from either Amazon or B&N. And for readers, there are stories or story beginnings to enjoy. It’s all very win-win!

As a refresher, here’s how this winter writing challenge works:

1. I’ll give a first line, and those who wish to accept the challenge will write what comes next—in 100 to 300 words, putting your entry into the comments section of this post.

“What comes next” may be the opening of a novel, a short story, or a completed piece of flash fiction—your choice.

In keeping with Spec Faith’s primary focus on the intersection of speculative fiction and the Christian faith, writers may wish to incorporate Christian elements or to write intentionally from a Christian worldview, but neither is required. Likewise, I’d expect speculative elements, or the suggestion of such, but entries will not be disqualified because of their omission.

2. Readers will give thumbs up to the ones they like the most (unlimited number of likes), and, if they wish, they may give a comment to the various entries, telling what particularly grabbed their attention.

By the way, I encourage such responses—it’s always helpful for entrants to know what they did right and what they could have done to improve.

3. After the designated time, I’ll re-post the top three (based on the number of thumbs up they receive) and visitors will have a chance to vote on which they believe is the best (one vote only).

4. I’ll again sweeten the pot and offer a $25 gift card (from either Amazon or Barnes and Noble) to the writer of the entry that receives the most votes (as opposed to the most thumbs up). In the event of a tie, a drawing will be held between the top vote getters to determine the winner.

And now, the first line:

Kendall didn’t care if the other candidates thought he was power-hungry—nothing could stop him from going after his destiny.

Finally, those silly little details we all need to know:

• Your word count does not include this first line.

• You will have between now and midnight (Pacific time) this coming Sunday to post your challenge entries in the comments section.

• You may reply to entries, giving thumbs up, this week and next. To have your thumb-up counted to determine the top three entries, mark your favorite entries before Sunday, January 22.

• Voting begins Monday, January 23.

Feel free to invite any of your friends to participate, either as writers or readers. The more entries and the more feedback, the better the challenge.

When C.S. Lewis wrote The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, he included a most surprising figure. No, I don’t mean Father Christmas (the merits of whose inclusion are a discussion for another time). I refer to Mr. Tumnus.

As E. Stephen Burnett has pointed out before ¹, fauns in classical mythology were often far nastier than Lewis’ depiction. Considering his literary predecessors (and even some of his descendants, such as the Faun in Pan’s Labyrinth), Tumnus’ appearance in a children’s book might seem an odd choice. Even if Tumnus isn’t like those other fauns we’ve heard of (they’ll say anything, you know), there’s still a connection.

Some might say that Lewis’ portrayal of Tumnus (his narratively brief service to the White Witch notwithstanding) serves only to sweeten or sanitize the fauns of mythology. Perhaps that is one consequence of Tumnus. But I think what Lewis accomplishes with Tumnus is something greater: the redemption of a myth. Lewis does this with mythical creatures and legendary figures throughout his writings, but especially in Narnia. Centaurs, fauns, Father Time, and even pagan deities like Bacchus and Silenus, Eros, Venus, and Mars—all of these find new life under Lewis’ pen

The end of Prince Caspian is an excellent example of Lewis’ myth redemption. Here, Bacchus and Silenus lose none of their wildness,² yet they are greater than the patrons of orgies and drunkenness from the Greek pantheon. Under Aslan’s reign, they become patrons of joy and celebration at their purest. It is the same with Tumnus. His role as would-be kidnapper is forgiven and forgotten and he is free to become the true friend he was always meant to be.

This mythic redemption is a literary working out of Paul’s admonition in 2 Corinthians 10:5 to “take every thought captive to obey Christ.” Normally, this verse is (rightly) applied to self-control in one’s own thoughts and to discourse and debate in which wrong thinking must be corrected and made “captive” to Christ. But when it comes to fiction, it is possible for us to take a different tack on the subject, as Lewis does.

This redemption does not mean that every myth must be sterilized or made impotent. Indeed, removing the power of a myth would make it worse than worthless. And Lewis is far from the only author to take myths beyond their pagan roots and (rather than simply Christianizing them) give them new life under Christ. For instance, in her novel Paper Crowns, Mirriam Neal presents figures like the Morrigan and Cernunnos as powerful but subservient beings. ³ The horned god Cernunnos becomes a Treebeard-like guardian of the forest, fearful in his power but a servant of the Light nonetheless. The Morrigan, true to form, remains a slippery ally at best but still finds her place in the larger pattern of the world.

Other authors have set their hands to similar mythic redemptions. Arthurian figures such as Merlin and Arthur are among the most common to be given this treatment (such as in Bryan Davis’ Dragons in Our Midst series or Lewis’ That Hideous Strength), likely because there is already a tinge of Christianity in most people’s understanding of those legends. But this sort of redemption can reach far beyond the “easy” myths.

In Albion Academy, my main characters are a Djinni, a Valkyrie, and a descendant of Merlin’s (yes, I have the “easy” myths in there, too). One of my hopes with this novel is to do what Lewis did: redeem these myths. So I have a Djinni whose faith drives his actions, a Valkyrie who questions her place in the universe as a reaper of the dead, and a wizard who craves something beyond his magic.

What other books have you seen where a myth is raised above its origins and given a Lewisian redemption? What books would have benefited from such a treatment?

News of Carrie Fisher’s death took over the web last week. Post upon post popped up on Facebook, ranging from shock to remembrance. Such was the legacy she had.

I’m not a huge Star Wars fan and didn’t grow up watching the movies, so I don’t understand the sense of loss a lot of people felt. However, when someone dies, particularly of such fame, it makes me think.

From what I’ve read (please correct me if I’m wrong), Carrie Fisher wasn’t a Christian. Despite her career, the accolades and attention, the success she enjoyed, what did it matter in the end? It’s a grim reminder that we become so wrapped up in the details of life it seems we can’t find a way out of the fog. Our attention turns to the material world. Our focus looks earthward instead of heavenward.

Then tragedy strikes, and we view things in a new light.

The Call to Share

The great commission is imprinted in the minds of Christians. We know we’re supposed to proclaim the Gospel. No debate or what ifs about that.

The difficulty comes in carrying it out. For some, fulfilling the call is easier. For others, more difficult. Life gets in the way. We become busy with the endless stream of demands and responsibilities.

Yet when death strikes close to home, when it edges out from the back of our minds and becomes something we think about, our perspective shifts. Especially if that person, like Carrie Fisher, made no proclamation of faith.

The finality of death makes us pause when we consider the consequences for an unbeliever. It should also cause us to be more purposeful in sharing the Gospel—whatever form that takes. (Not to be become legalistic or induce guilt on someone for not actively sharing the Gospel every day.)

The Medium for Sharing

Too often, the call to spread the Gospel to every part of the world is taken literally. Not that such a view is wrong. Rather, it’s too narrow. The unfortunate mindset exists that such sharing must take place within certain bounds.

• Missions
• Preaching
• Street or college campus evangelism

The slogan could easily be, “Active evangelism or bust!” With the connotation, of course, that anything less is somehow falling short.

But is that true?

I would submit not. Sharing the Gospel need not always take place in traditional ways, nor need it be overt.

Why?

This is where the power of story enters the picture.

The Truth in Stories

Stories, especially those of the fantastical bent, provide rich soil for the seeds of truth to sprout and grow.

I present Narnia as Exhibit A.

The echoes of Gospel truth resound clearly throughout the pages of each book. An overt presentation, but not one that smacks readers across the face or preaches at them.

Even unbelievers can see the basic principles at play—sacrificial love, redemption, forgiveness—though they may fail to appreciate the deeper currents of truth flowing beneath the surface.

Stories that take a less obvious approach also supply a background for sharing the truth. Tolkien’s works come to mind, and such is the method I’ve used in many of my stories.

I would argue that the two types I mentioned are more effective means of presenting truth than the stories that shove it in the reader’s face.

Are stories a replacement for telling people directly? I don’t think so. But that doesn’t exclude them from the toolbox. Sometimes, the best way to reach someone is through the back door.

Even if stories by Christian authors don’t directly cause someone to think about the Gospel, their powerful effect is undeniable. The startling relatability of stories grabs our attention like few other things do. They make us think and wrench our emotions.

And who knows? God can certainly use stories to capture people’s attention, to reveal that spark of “Joy,” as C. S. Lewis termed it.

Such considerations should be on the minds of all Christian writers, whatever style they take, whatever emphasis they choose to focus on. It’s motivation for Christians to write imaginative stories soaked in truth and brimming with the core of the Gospel message.

It also should encourage us in our writing endeavors. Story is an excellent way to share the truth. So let us hone our skill, practice our craft, tell our stories. You never know who will read our tales or what impact they will have.

What are some of your favorite stories that present the truth?

The Mythic Orbits 2016 anthology project was inspired by my love of short stories, especially science fiction short stories.

Back in the 1950s, a number of science fiction magazines made money off regular sales of short story collections. Most of the major authors of the era started out as short story writers. For many of them, their short stories are every bit as important as their novels.

Ray Bradbury’s Martian Chronicles is probably at least as well-known and his best known novel and was in fact an anthology of Bradbury’s short stories about Mars. So was Isaac Asimov’s I, Robot, an anthology about robots. Robert A. Heinlein, Arthur C. Clarke, Larry Niven, and many other prominent authors of the past wrote short stories that I often find more interesting than their novels.

Short stories have not been quite so prominent in fantasy, though George R.R. Martin has written some.

Short stories have been huge in the history of the horror genre. Edgar Allen Poe never wrote a single novel, yet is well-known for his short stories and poems.

But sadly, the short story has fallen on hard times. Too many stories are given away for free online. Many publishers treat them like promotional material and novels as the “real” stories worth selling. And publishers who do sell either short stories or flash fiction are asking writers to produce stories with specific themes in mind at specific times, instead of letting authors submit their very best works, those stories they felt internally inspired to write.

I wanted to do things differently. I wanted people to submit to me their most inspired creations, then assemble these into a collection that would be the sort of thing I would love to read myself. I also wanted to promote my fellow Christian authors in a way I believe honors God.

For Mythic Orbits, I recruited authors starting at the Realm Maker’s conference in 2016 by wearing a sign on my back saying I was interested in short stories. At the suggestion of Lisa Godfrees, our collective group created something called “The Coalition of the Willing” on Facebook. I sought their input in naming the story collection, in designing the cover (for which I did the artwork, based on feedback from the group).¹

I also have kept the price of the book down and invested more in the story quality than anything else. The real prize of this collection is not its artwork or layout, but the works of the authors I was able to recruit.

The most important author who submitted a story was Kerry Nietz. Kerry not only have me a cool story and allowed me to use his name in promoting the collection, he gave a lot of pointers on various aspects of the project and cleaned up the EPUB file I had made for the novel. He even put me in touch with Tosca Lee and Kathy Tyers, both of who read Mythic Orbits 2016 and gave it their endorsements. (Very exciting for me!)

By the way, the name Mythic Orbits was created by our collective group and was intended to suggest both science fiction and fantasy and to identify this book in a distinctive way, along with any that follow after it in a series. This is something I would like to do–make this an annual anthology, if God allows it.

Along with science fiction and fantasy, this anthology of 14 authors includes horror and paranormal stories. There is no single theme to these tales, though the subject of empathy or lack thereof does come up in them over and over. This is most definitely not an anthology about orbits which are somehow mythical.

As a showcase for the best speculative fiction stories by Christian authors, my first goal for was simply to demonstrate that Christian authors really can write speculative fiction well. Stories with a wide range of appeal are included, mostly serious, some with humor, some with “happy endings” and others clearly not so happy. But all worthwhile.

Some of the authors wrote using Christian themes but others did not. Some of these stories feature Christian characters in speculative fiction worlds, some make use of Christian themes either subtly or overtly, while some have no discernible connection to Christianity at all.

There was no specific content or doctrinal test for Mythic Orbit‘s tales, though they are basically clean. As long as the violence mentioned in a few of these stories wasn’t portrayed too graphically, this collection would rate a “PG” in the U.S. movie rating system. This is based on the suffering mentioned in a few of the tales and a few relatively mild words like “bastard.” Sexuality in the anthology is limited to being attracted to someone and a single story kiss.

In doctrine, these stories did what speculative fiction as a whole does—created worlds unlike our own and put the reader inside them. These stories do not assert these unreal situations are actually true, though imaginary things can reveal truths about what is real, of course. Nothing in any of the stories overtly contradicts the Bible. Even strict interpretations that there cannot possibly be ghosts or fairies or certain monsters, which some of these tales include, could be harmonized simply by reinterpreting stories as involving demons if a reader wished to do so.

Christian readers should be drawn to this anthology. So should speculative fiction readers, including the readers of Speculative Faith.