Robin Layne's Blog: From the Red, Read Robin

Take a gander at my website's blog, "The Writer's Layne." Here's a link: An Accomplishment Worth Celebrating--Much Thanks to NaNoWriMo

My website, WritingThatSings.com, introduces my editing services and includes lists and samples of my published writing. Please let me know if you want help with your own writing! You can use the form on the website or just email me at [email protected]. You are also welcome to comment here or on my website, or to email me if you have any reactions to my writings or want to talk shop.

Last month an email lured me to join National Novel Writing Month Camp for April because NaNoWriMo added a reasonable variation to its original expectation that people write a fresh novel in a month (and that month initially was November): actually FINISHING a book you started! It was high time I completed my draft of a YA vampire novel I started about 20 years ago and stop sniveling about it in any way, shape, or form.

It was an easier goal by far than what a lot of people set (and sometimes reach, amazingly!) The only barrier for the month was Easter. I could handle that, and I did. I estimated the word count I would need, based on the chapters I planned and had partially written from where I last left off until the end. 6 chapters. Join some other NaNo writers for mutual support, buckle down, and write at least X number of words every weekday, and I'd get there.

I actually beat the expected word count without finishing the novel. I'd been wrong about how much text would be necessary to cover the subject matter. The website awarded me a winner badge on my profile, gave me a link to a winner's certificate, and other links to products they thought I'd be interested. I made another estimate and re-set my goal.

The process ended up requiring 8 chapters instead of 6, and a second adjustment to the word count. But on Friday, April 23, 2021, I typed END on the final page.

I have a 401 double-spaced pages in Times New Roman 12 point font. To record the length more accurately, I have written 99,073 words.

I thought it was too long for YA, but another writer assured me it wasn't. YA, he said, is typically between 70k and 110k. Non-YA is 80k-130k. By length alone, what I have could fit into either category. In future edits, I will trim redundancies and other lengthening errors and may even cut out scenes I will find unnecessary, but I may add more description, so it's hard to say what the final length will be. But I'm feeling good about how my subject matter formed. SO glad to have it all down and not have to make any excuses to anyone!

I had to celebrate! So I arranged to go to a fancy restaurant (actually open of dining!) with a friend, my offspring, and offspring's roommate. That food was great, and it was such a nice treat for us al. I got all dressed up in a black, jeweled dress and a fancy red hat with black trim and some gothy jewelry.

Another wonderful thing today happened as a surprise: an successful author of similar subject matter who shares my Christian faith responded to my comment on her Facebook account and sent me a friend request. How wonderful of Sue Dent to talk to me about ins and outs of publishing and relate to my frustration! Thank the Lord!

I have been asked to say something about “when I grow up.” It would seem an odd question for someone about to turn 60, but considering I still don’t fill the shoes I envisioned as a child—and still want to—it’s valid today. I’m frustrated that I’m still not a published novelist, especially when I think how much of my childhood was filled with making up long stories I thought back then that I would write. Portions of those books filled my head especially during the hours I tried to fall asleep at night, those “he said”s and “she said”s I no longer recall. I know what some of the themes and even titles of those would-be books were, but they were replaced over time by other book ideas that interested me more.

In a sense I am what I wanted to be, a writer, but to some I will not be considered an author until I publish a novel. I have published some articles and short stories and a surprising number of poems. I am always working on a novel of some sort--have been since my junior high days--but I haven’t completed one to the point I would send it in to a publisher.

I was having a conversation with God about this subject today. He said, “Are you going to write this week about what you want to do, or who you want to be?

That was a profound question. I saw them as two very separate things. A thing I really want to do, write and publish novels, isn’t nearly as important as who I want to be. When I get too sidetracked with activities, I remind myself I’m a human being, not a human doing. Another thing I heard a long time ago from that still small voice is “people are more important than books.” That conviction is one reason I spend a lot of time keeping up my social life and reaching out to people whenever I see a need. I love people because I love God and God loves people and gives me a love for them. The time I spend with people may take time away from my writing, but if people are more important than books, I have no reason to be ashamed that I haven’t had a book finished and published yet.

So exactly what or who do I want to be when I grow up? It’s not an occupation I strive toward, but an identity and a quality. I want to be so filled with the Spirit of God and so surrendered to His will that I’m as much like Jesus as I can become in this lifetime. If I die without publishing a novel, I and some others will be disappointed, but if I die and don’t hear the words from my Lord that I want to hear, I’ll know I’ve disappointed the most important Being in the universe, and, so doing, many in the universe that I could have touched in a positive way. The words I want to hear when I pass on to Heaven are, “Well done, My good and faithful servant!” I want to please the Lord because I love Him, because He’s worthy to be loved and pleased, and because what pleases Him is all that is right and loving. That’s what I really live for! Too many times I miss making this life purpose my first priority and don't look at myself through its lens. The world pressures me to answer the question, “What do you do?” and when they ask it, they mean, “How do you make a living?” (which isn’t even writing) or “What do you spend the most time doing?” or “What do you consider your career?” How many people want to know who I want to be like or who I want to please? I get too shy of admitting what is really most important to me. Although I love writing, it’s not so much an end as a means. I am indeed driven to write, but to write what? Truth and love are the messages I hope to communicate most. People who don’t like fiction don’t understand how fiction can communicate truth or inspire love. But people who love fiction understand. And they, I hope, can come away changed for the better after reading something I’ve written. What I write flows from who I am. That’s as true in a simple text to a friend as it is in the series of novels I hope to complete. Who I am is a lover of God and people, a follower of Jesus Christ. When I grow up, I want to be more deeply in love with Him than ever—and show it!

I have been asked to create something about nuances. I’m finding it easier to write about polarization than nuance. Something in human nature embraces the idea of absolutes. I believe that instinct responds to some realities, at least in the spiritual realm. First and foremost, I am convinced that God is 100% good… that He is goodness itself and intends good for human beings. This world we live in, however, is imperfect because of choices people have made that have influenced it. As a result, people often misunderstand what is good and what is bad, and they have trouble trusting that God has their best interest at heart—if they believe in God at all.
Imperfect human beings who can’t perceive the natures of God and His supernatural enemies tend to turn their polarization instinct toward one another. I see this most strongly on the political scene. My personal response to politics is to say, like Treebeard in The Lord of the Rings, “I am not altogether on anyone’s side because no one is altogether on my side.” Outside feels most natural to me. I must admit that when I must think of the highly polarized two-party system and the ways that each side in this circus screams that the other side is evil incarnate, my own reaction is polarized: I hate politics! This battle has been going on for a long time, getting worse and worse, but you’d think just maybe a huge threat like a world-wide pandemic would cause the sides to call a truce to work together toward solutions. Nope. Not even staring widespread death in the face inspires these horrid children to grow up an inch. The insanity only continues to increase under this test. Each side blames the other for the virus and prevents the other from doing its part in making things better.
The true nuance of the situation is that no human being on earth is altogether good or altogether evil. Only one ever walked this world who was totally good, and at this time of year we celebrate the day we nailed Him to a cross. People didn’t like to see such good walking around because it uncovered their secret evils. Nevertheless, they couldn’t keep this good man down or stop His mission to increase God’s goodness in this fallen world. Why did His work continue throughout history through the people He chose to spread His good contagion? Why does it continue today, unfinished but still struggling to win? Because God made human beings in His image, and that image is a seed that grows with the proper soil and water, and because Jesus is the living Word of God, and God’s word never fails. I have it on the best authority that one day the world will be restored to a better state than it was in the beginning when all was very good like the God who made it. It’s a long process, though, because none of us, not even the strongest of believers, is all good or all bad. The best we can do is step aside in our own skins and let the Spirit of Jesus live through us—something none of us succeeds at all the time.
Could an entirely evil human being ever exist? That is a point under much debate. The very fact that people dwell on this idea as much as they do implies inner depravity. The human imagination has created many horror movies depicting people, or ex-people, so evil that it’s a virtue and a matter of survival to kill them. It’s everything from zombies to the Antichrist. I’m uneasy when people fill their minds with such ideas, because it feeds the ultimate us-versus-them mentality. Such mentality makes prejudice, hatred, and genocide easy.
I even wonder whether anything in the universe is totally evil. Genesis tells us that everything God created is good. This fact implies to me that evil isn’t a separately created thing. It is the twisting and bending of the good, just as a lie must begin with something true that is then twisted. Keith Green, in the song “No One Believes in Me Anymore (Satan’s Boast),” sang, “I put some truth in every lie to tickle itching ears.” In other words, people aren’t evil enough to be interested in pure lies. We are creatures that feed on truth. Unfortunately, we find it too easy to swallow a lot of poison with truth-baited food, especially if we’ve become accustomed to certain tastes. So there you have it, a sad explanation of some common nuances that can do us in. The encouraging point to remember is that, since evil is only a perversion of good, it’s not as powerful as the real thing, and as long as a person is alive, there is hope for that person.
I am inclined to think no human being exists or will exist who is altogether evil, because all were made in the image of God, and here on earth, there are always some things to encourage and even reward goodness in people.

I’m ending this essay here because it’s time to share it with my MeetUp group. I am already late for the Zoom meeting. I may add a little later or expound on some of the points at some future date. Happy Easter!

Written March 16, 2020 around 5:00 p.m.-- important to note because reality is changing drastically minute by minute lately. The following blog entry is my participation in an event of a MeetUp group called “Self-Quarantine Adventure Club.” It meets online, not in person.

I work in a theater, and it’s a theater where a lot of elderly people go. My job is to approach people there and invite them to watch previews for upcoming movies and give their opinions about them, then to reward them with $5 codes of Regal theater credit. It’s kind of a fun job, but I work hard, and my bus commute takes two hours each way. Usually I work only Saturdays and maybe Sundays after church, until 6 or 7 in the evening. Sometimes I get more hours, sometimes fewer. I don’t normally know until the night before whether I work that day at all. It’s feast or famine, I’ve realized, so I have to be careful with my money even when I have what looks like plenty to me. I’m used to barely getting by.

Along comes an epidemic of a sometimes deadly virus, and the world is quickly turning upside down. I was told that people are hoarding toilet paper and stores are rationing it, so I wonder what I’ll do when I run out of the package I have now. I have Kleenexes, but they can’t be thrown in a toilet, which means they will stink up my trash can and make for more garbage in the compacter. And when I run out of those, will I be able to get more?

Seeing headlines today that theaters are likely to be shut down tells me I’ll probably soon lose the shaky security I get from my job. I’m not helpless, though. As the saying goes, when God closes a door, He opens a window. Not that I believe God is the source of deadly diseases. No way! But I see a window of promise with bright light shining through for me… a window giving me time to develop a life I’ve always wanted—a life in which I make my living doing what I’m passionate about: writing!

When people ask me if I’ve been writing, I say, “You might as well ask me if I’ve been breathing!” Not that I spend as much time writing as I do breathing, but writing is nearly that important to me. When I was a little girl I knew I would be a writer. I was already making up novels in my head, word for word, during the hours I lay trying to get to sleep at night. I still remember some of the stories I planned to write. Some even already had titles. Miracle Under the Sea was about two girls who go scuba diving and get stuck in an underwater cave. Instead of drowning, somehow they turn into mermaids. A similar theme was a man who is snowed in in the valley where he lives and ends up getting out with a sleigh and delivering presents to all the children. I also thought up a story of a woman named Barbara who drives a jeep camper all over the U.S., visiting forests and finally settling in the one she likes best, in a snug log cabin, and she makes friends with the wild animals and has her own horse and her own dog; both run free on her land. This Barbara does what I planned to do. In my case, I would spend my time writing and become famous for my books.

My life hasn’t exactly fulfilled that dream, though at one point I lived in a cabin with woods behind it, and deer used to come nibble at the backyard garden or the front yard grass. And boy did I write there, with my big electric typewriter facing the bit of ocean I could see from the front window! I didn’t publish anything at the time, and I certainly didn’t get famous, but I was at peace, safe from a former fiance who had literally tried to choke the life out of me before I escaped him and was invited to hide out in a relative’s vacation home.

It used to be important that I be famous. I wanted all the kids who had teased me to read about me in the paper and be sorry they hated me. Now I don’t care what they think, and when I do publish my books they won’t know it’s me because I use a pseudonym. My destiny so far hasn’t allowed me to live in a forest, either. Circumstances have brought me near Portland, Oregon, where I now live in a suburb and don’t want to move out of my apartment ever, unless I get married, and there are no prospects for that.

My father always liked my writing but told me I would never make my living by it. “You’ll have to sell shoes or something, and write on the side.” So I spent my youth looking for a way to “sell shoes” that was substantial gainful employment. But I just don’t have much talent for things unrelated to writing. After a lot of upheavals that made me change colleges and majors, and after a lot of credits that didn’t count in the colleges I transferred to, I finally graduated with a bachelor’s in English and got some training and experience in editing. That made me eligible to apply for editing jobs, but the only one I ever got besides a few short freelance assignments was one for a publisher that gave me the experience of my dream, working in every phase of the editing process for novels, but paid so little I’m embarrassed to give the actual amounts. Good experience. Looks good on a resume. Helping other writers improve their work and publish their books is almost as satisfying to me as writing my own stories, poems, and songs. Everyone thinks my writing is great. I’ve even won contests, bringing in token payments. And one year I actually made hundreds of dollars from two short personal experience articles. The checks came to me in the same month, but there was no more money from writing that whole year—and none since.

People at my church have been writing books over the years, especially lately. Although I made it known I’m a professional editor, none of them has sought my services. I don’t know why. Some other people have contacted me saying they want me to edit their books, but every last one of them has backed out. I feel the old rejection from childhood hitting me hard. I know God values me, and that keeps me from despair. Finally, I asked a church member who recently published a book who her editor was, and she told me she found her from a certain website that helps freelancers connect with clients. I checked that website out and set up a profile. I still have to add testimonials from people I’ve edited for, and there are probably other things I should do to get people interested in my writing and editing, but I haven’t found the time.

The time… That’s what it’s going to be all about. Time to spend at home working on my current novel and memoir. Time to embellish my profile on that website, read how to best advertise my services there, and time to read and respond to proposals. Time to set up a new website, better than the disastrous one I've let go of. Time to establish myself as a paid writer and editor once and for all. To prove my father wrong. To prove I really am a writer, and a writer who can boost other writers’ successes. To realize the dream of my life. Thank You, Lord!

What just happened? The world is full of fear. I don't minimize the seriousness of the situation, but I’m holding on to hope. Hope that people who’d trusted that things would go on as always now realize they need help, and that they will turn to God for it. God can heal. God can protect. And God can raise the poor to a higher place. I think of Joseph in the Old Testament, who dreamed his destiny of rulership and lost everything to eventually realize that dream—not as a selfish domination of others but as the savior of the known world and a type of the One to come who would lay down His life to be the Savior of all who would follow Him. Like the Savior’s mother declared, God scatters the proud and exalts the lowly.
I’m tired of being trampled underfoot like a nobody. In this time of quarantine, I’m going for my dream. I will write and edit in my own home. I will do my work remotely. What just happened? I don't make light of the serious circumstances around me. But for me, it's a brand new day.

Holy Bible: The New King James Version by Anonymous

My rating: 5 of 5 stars


I have finished reading this version from Genesis through Revelation. I really like the NKJV for its beauty and accuracy. Like the original King James, it was prepared by people who all believed in the early Creeds of Christianity. Words that have changed meaning since 1611 have been updated to be understandable to modern readers, and earlier documents discovered since the KJV was written have been consulted. Often more than one possible meaning of a word or verse is available.
I fell in love with the Bible, and hence the God who inspired it, as a child, after my mom ended one of my "temper tantrums" by handing me a Bible and telling me, "Just open it up anywhere and read it." I found it calmed me, and it showed me I was loved by my very creator. The things I learned blew me away! This Book transformed me from a child who would rather kick and scream than go to church to a young person and then adult who couldn't get enough of the teaching and fellowship church among my fellow believers. Jesus is my everything now, and I know it's only the beginning of an incredible eternity with Him. Now for my start to finish Bible reading I will tackle the MacArthur Study Bible, which is a New American Standard Bible, though my smaller edition of the NKJV will always be treasured and consulted, being more compact. Watch for my review--eventually!--of this larger Bible, which is filled with commentary. I can't remember when I started reading the New King James or exactly when I finished, so the ending date I give here is approximate.



View all my reviews

The Portland Writers' Mill will finish and upload its next anthology (volume this Sunday at its monthly meeting. The title hasn't yet been decided; a number of good ideas have been sent to the group for voting, all based around the book's theme of looking back and looking forward. At this meeting, members will be able to purchase the anthology at a one-time discount price of $3. If Amazon charges more, the balance will be due when the books are picked up. Books will be available to take home at the December meeting, December 15. That, however, is too close to Christmas for me to mail some to friends and relatives far away, so I hope I can get mine earlier.

The two previous journals are listed with my other publications and are available on Amazon: $6.95 for Volume 6, $7.95 for Volume 5. I think the price on the new one will be similar. I have writing and illustrations in both and also helped with the editing. This year's book includes two of my non-fiction pieces and three of my poems. The first non-fiction piece is "Some Call It a Cathedral," a descriptive child's eye view of summer vacations. The second is "Done Soon," an essay exploring possibilities of Christ's emotional life. The poems are "Any Color I Don't Like," a rant about technological distractions, "Face without a Voice," about breaking out of learned silence, and "Silver Pen," my first sonnet, on the writers' calling. "Face without a Voice" was first published in a Write Around Portland anthology and was quoted in a Write Around Portland New Years card.

I had very little time to edit this one, as too much "life" outside such volunteer service got in the way. I went over one story, not sure I did any more, other than going over my own writings for the final version.

I like that this year the journal will have an interesting title, with "the Writers' Mill Journal Volume 7" being just a subtitle. I think you'll be able to find it on Amazon under this subtitle. Otherwise, just look up The Writers' Mill Journal, and you should see all the ones they've made. We skipped a year this time, which means more opportunity for a good collection of writings.

The Portland Writers' Mill meets every 3rd Sunday from 1 to 3 at the Cedar Mill Library in Portland, Oregon. It has approximately 30 members, though not all come to all meetings and the public is invited. They hold a monthly writing contest, each month a different theme, with a word count of up to 1,200.

Sorry for not posting in such a long time! I meant to add another story to my collection of writings, at least, but it's not as good as the other stories posted. In a separate blog, I'll write about open mic experiences I've had. I spend too much time on the computer as it is. I enjoy getting out into the community. Enjoy your holidays and have a wonderful 2020! May the year bring spiritual 20-20 vision to you! It's already started for me.

I have joined a contest on Tapas.io (which is both a website and an app), serializing a novel you can read as it takes shape! Please don't wait to check it out, because the contest ends on the 19thof this month (April). Here is the direct link to the story: Against Heaven and Hell

If you think the story has merit, please join the site and subscribe to it before April 19. A subscription does two things: It allows you to read the whole story easily after I post it every Sunday, Wednesday, and Friday, and it is a vote toward making it the readers' choice winner.

"Against Heaven and Hell is a horror story that takes place in 18th Century America--a story of the younger years of the character I like the best among those I have created so far, Lucas Fleeland (Luke). (You can also read about Luke in the vampire interviews on my other blog, Robin Layne Author .)

After exploring the experiences and processes that make Luke a complex and secretly rebellious young man (and something more than that), the novel intricately weaves in an often misunderstood historical figure, General Benedict Arnold, in ways I hope you will find both informative and entertaining. According to my fiction, Luke meets Arnold when working as a surgeon's mate (medic assistant) in the Revolutionary War, and attempts to mold the heroic general into someone he can better relate to.

I originally wrote "Against Heaven and Hell" as a novella I submitted to a collection called "War is Hell." It was not accepted for the anthology but the editors liked it enough to say they might want to use it in another publication. I was wasn't satisfied with the story as it was; I wanted to expand and deepen the plot, possibly making it a stand-alone novel that is a prequel offshoot to my AVS series. And here I am doing so at last!

I started rewriting the story after I heard about the contest, which started March 19 and goes on for just a month. Just last night, the artwork was completed, and this morning I posted the new banner. I have just less than two weeks to attract a following large enough to win the readers' choice award or to interest the judges enough to win by the second option.

I don't expect to finish the whole novel by the deadline, which is okay. I'm working hard at the new parts and even the old parts require editing for improvement and consistency with the new version. On top of that, I must return to the historical research needed to recreate the time period and historical figures accurately. I WILL finish it, though! I just may not post as often because I don't want the quality to suffer (the quality either of the novel OR of my life).

So far, 4 installments are available for your reading pleasure. More to come tonight! At least 10, probably more, will be completed by the April 19 deadline.

It wasn't until late January of this year that I received news that my article, "The Greatest Hidden Treasure," was published in War Cry, magazine of the Salvation Army. It's in the December 2017 issue. I wish I'd been told in November or even December so that I could have told everyone to get themselves a copy. Truth is, I waited so long without any response from the magazine that I was almost sure they had changed their minds about printing the story, even though they paid me $421.05 in July 2016.

It's by far the most I've ever been paid for my writing, and I was tickled pink at the article's acceptance. The editor said she wasn't sure which issue would feature the story, but I thought it would be December 2016, because it was chiefly about Christmas 2015. It concerns my adventures as a Salvation Army bell ringer. Because I didn't receive further correspondence after that hefty check, I called two Salvation Army offices before I found one that had the latest issue of War Cry, then I asked a worker to look through the magazine for my article. No dice.

I tried calling the female editor and only got the recording of a man's voice, and no callback. I emailed the editor, and also used the only online channels I could to reach someone in the organization. Nada.

I had been elated to mention the acceptance of my article by this famous magazine in my bio for The Writers' Mill Journal Volume 5. But for Volume 6, I had the editors remove that information. I had experienced a magazine acceptance in the past that was never printed "for lack of space." This could be the same thing all over again, though I thought it strange in this case because they paid me so much. (The other magazine only "paid in copies"--and it didn't help me to get paid in copies my work didn't appear in.) I didn't think an organization like the Salvation Army would throw money away. But to hear nothing from them... ? Was it possible the editor had been changed and my article and information lost?

Then, in winter of 2017, I received a round cardboard envelope addressed to "Robin Layne," which is my pen name (different from the name I use as a kettle worker). It was from Salvation Army national headquarters, a totally different address from the magazine's. Inside was a Christmas music CD.

I wrote a letter thanking the unnamed people at that office for the gift of the CD and then telling them of my problems regarding the article that was accepted. I went on with my bell ringing and my other job that is on Saturdays, trying not to wear myself to a frazzle making some extra money I needed.

Finally, in late January, I received a letter thanking me for my inquiry, apologizing for the lack of communication but not explaining it, and telling me the article was published in the previous months issue. The manila envelope included 5 sample copies of that magazine. It's a beaut! I'm happy with the presentation, but unpleasantly surprised to face the same problem I faced on staff of my college newspaper back when articles had to be re-typed by a typesetter who added technical errors to my article. Yep, even War Cry has them, including taking out some commas that changed the meaning of one passage. Their version: "People gave me some new nicknames this past season: Christmas angel even dwarf." What I'd written was, "Christmas, angel, even dwarf." Yes, there were kids who called me "Christmas."

I have been a kettle worker nearly every year for so many years I can't quite remember when I started. Although I got cold a lot, I love contributing to a cause that so many people believe in, greeting and cheering people up, and seeing how they feel about giving. Most of all, I love my own special touch: singing carols, hymns, and other songs as I ring. God has blessed me with an enjoyable voice, and generally that voice improves as the season wears on and I reacquaint myself with the songs. I sing a lot about the God I love, and to my delight, others love it. Normally I'm pretty shy and fearful when it comes to sharing my faith with people I don't know, a fact I am not proud of. But something in the music of Christmas turns the tables; I am at home beside the kettle, bundled up and belting it out.

The winter of 2015 was especially magical for me. On Christmas Eve, I learned something especially valuable was secretly dropped in my kettle. I held back tears of joy as a shopper showed me the news clipping on the front page of a local newspaper, and I thanked the Lord for His kind answers to prayer for the Salvation Army of my county, and for giving me this favor among generous people. I could scarcely believe that one of three gold coins was in my kettle!

The precious coin was not the main point of the article, I wrote, however. It became a metaphor for something much greater: "But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us." (2 Corinthians 4:7 KJV) God is in me! Not because I've done anything to deserve it by any means, but because He invited me to ask Jesus in, and because He continues to fill me with His Holy Spirit.

The power of God isn't just latent in every follower of Christ; it is active and miraculous and transformative by nature. What else can you expect of God Himself? God is very much alive, and He is who He is!

God the Father is on His throne in Heaven, overlooking all that goes on in His beloved creation, it's true, but through God the Son He sent His Holy Spirit to earth, to dynamically change our world--in and through US! We need to have the courage to believe it and act accordingly. Only as we do so do we become His hands and feet on this earth and answer the prayer, "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven." (Matthew 6:10 KJV)

"But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord." (2 Corinthians 3:18 KJV)

Good morning! I just read a great blog post that reflects the sentiments I have been trying to express. S.D. Grimm (dig the darkish fairytale name!) writes her guest commentary for Morgan Busse on Enclave Publishing's blog. I'm excited to discover Enclave, a Christian publisher of edgy speculative fiction.

Why write about evil, as a Christian? WHAT to write about evil as a Christian? What is the relationship of evil to good? Is it possible that experiencing evil can make the light show all the brighter?

Here's the link to The Dark Side of Fiction: https://www.enclavepublishing.com/dar...