Christian fantasy literature, and commentary on assorted subjects
From April 20, 2013
I know someone who doesn’t like my books because they aren’t in a class with those of J.D. Salinger, Tom Wolfe, Ernest Hemingway, and Stephen King–and other giants of Serious Mainstream Literature. (Stephen King??? Well, he said it, not me.)
I would be seriously demoralized if anybody thought I wrote like any of those babblers. I have a neighbor, you see, who is obsessed with doing laundry. He likes to do it twice a day. His stepson has picked up the habit from him, and also does it twice a day. They both do laundry three or four items at a time. Three baseball caps. Two shirts and a pair of undies.
I think that’s what you do if you’re not writing Serious Mainstream Literature in which nothing bloody happens, nothing is revealed or resolved–the kind of books that make you run screaming back to Edgar Rice Burroughs. At least, if you’re obsessed with laundry, you get clean clothes.
Hemingway was a self-important ponce. Salinger was a dremmler. Stephen King hasn’t written anything worth a damn since the 1970s–and even that, when I revisit it, isn’t as good as it seemed at the time. If it weren’t for academic pinheads providing these writers with captive audiences of college students, no one would read them.
But what do you think, folks? Should I try to write more like J.D. Salinger? Does Helki the Rod need to spend more time worrying about teleological awareness? Or should he just go do some laundry?
From April 11, 2014
Someone emailed me an ad today for skydiving lessons at the nearest airport.
I can think of any number of people who would want me to take them, preferably with a defective parachute; but I think I’ll take a pass on this.
Risking one’s life for God, family, or country is sometimes necessary. But to risk it because it might be entertaining? I don’t think so. No, I’d rather watch Columbo episodes.
Julius Caesar was a brave man, physically. He always fought in the front line, with his troops behind him. But he would have thought it folly to climb a dangerous mountain just because it’s there, or swim with sharks, or go skydiving just for fun. I’m with him there.
Because, you see, my life is not my own to do with as I please. God has a claim on it first, along with my wife, my family, my friends, and those causes which seem right to me. It’s not mine to hazard by jumping out of an airplane just for fun.
So,no thanks–but I think I’ll stick to basketball. That’s hazardous enough for me.
I’ll leave the extreme sports to the libs ‘n’ progs. May they never get enough of them.
Very bad weather today. Dark, gray overcast and rainy. We are supposed to get a little snow tonight. It got very cold again.
Didn’t do much today–but every day can’t be as good as yesterday was.
I am hoping to hear some good news soon.
As is, I am grateful for what I have, my upcoming chili for supper and maybe a scary movie.
Pray for our troops.
God bless everybody.
Patty
From November 24, 2017
See that great big black cat sleeping with his best friend, the pit bull, on the sofa?
That big cat, some months ago, was Jax the little kitten, picked up by my stepdaughter Georgia in the middle of a storm, adopted, and found to be at death’s door, due to a serious blood condition requiring immediate treatment–including a transfusion of very rare donor blood, etc.
Many of us prayed for Jax, and now you can see the result.
It’s become fashionable these days, in a fallen world populated by sinners who have free will and atrociously abuse it, to say that prayer is futile, waste of breath, just won’t work–even some who call themselves Christians are saying that prayer is just a waste of time. And who has never had that thought cross his mind?
But this fine healthy cat is here because a woman had compassion on him, and acted on it, and because God heard our prayers and did the rest.
Rejoice, give thanks, and sing.
From February 18 2012
One of my chess buddies put me on to The Gammage Cup by Carol Kendall. Written in 1959, this fantasy adventure for young readers–a Newbery Award-winner, by the way–is completely devoid of sex, blood-drinking, profanity, and the rest of the current staples of young readers’ fiction. Instead, it just has to plod along with adventure, humor, engaging characters, an amazingly tantalizing historical background, and nice, clear prose. There isn’t even any sorcery or witchcraft in it.
Kids will like it because it’s easy to read without being dumbed-down, and it’s highly imaginative. Adults will enjoy it for exactly the same reasons. It’s probably perfect for reading aloud to your home-schooled 10-year-old.
This is not an overtly “Christian” book. If it has a message, it’s a plea to resist the pressures of conformity. But it’s not hard to imagine God using this book to do good–which is a great deal more than you can say about a lot of the current young readers’ fiction.