A Double Standard?

I hesitated to write this, but I thought I’d think alound and ask the question. I think it’s safe to say that for many readers, books aren’t their only form of entertainment. The realm of what we call inspirational or Christian fiction is a rather small circle when compared to the general reading population.

We are quick to point out in a “Christian” book if there’s something that offends us or we don’t like. But we tune into television shows that cross many, many lines.

Take the crime shows for example. They show the grittiness of life. Some of us don’t take much issue with the violence and/or gore. “That’s part of the story,” we say. Characters dropping references with sexual innuendo, hopping in and out of bed with each other. “Oh, that’s part of the story,” we say. Lying for the sake of an investigation or to trick someone. “That’s what cops and investigators do,” we say.

For example, I adore the television show “Castle.” Why? Snappy dialogue, crimes with some good plot twists, the fact that there’s a writer as one of the main characters. However, all of the above have occurred in the story lines of this show. So I guess in a way I’m referring to myself and I’m not comfortable with the observation.

Yet, some of us can be so much harder on Christian writers in what they “show” and “don’t show.”

“You didn’t have that character get redeemed,” we say. Well, in real life, that doesn’t always happen.

“You character did something underhanded to help solve the crime,” we chide the author.

Where do we draw the line of what’s acceptable in “entertainment?”

Or, do we move that line to suit our own tastes or to fit the author or television show? Is all this relative?

I find it ironic that readers–viewers–will watch certain shows and not be offended, yet they will pick up a book and find all types of moral infractions, trivial or no.

Am I mistaken? Does this really happen? Am I the only one who has a double standard?

Read, read, and listen

I’m going to tag along with Elizabeth’s post, because her venture homeschooling and reading with her children reminded me of when my two were very young.

Some of the best memories I have of my children growing up involve our discovery of books; or rather, my joy as I rediscovered many of my favorites with them. Before they were old enough to dive into the books on their own, I read aloud to them. There’s a lot to be said for reading aloud. You can do the accents, make your voice pitch high or low, depending on the character. You learn the time to make a dramatic pause, and when exactly to stop reading for the day so the kids are ready next time. You get to experience the book together.

One of the other benefits of reading aloud is the imagination can take over instead of a newer reader trying to figure out the words on the page. The early readers might struggle with reading an “older book” for themselves, but they’re not too young to learn to listen to the pages and let their imaginations sprout.

However, when we took road trips, books on tape–and eventually CD–became our traveling companions. We traveled back and forth from Narnia as our car headed back and forth from the beach, to Tennessee and then to Colorado. In the heydey of the Left Behind saga, we listened to some of those titles too.

It’s a shame, really, that there aren’t more audiobooks in the world. While they’re not written words on printed (or digital) pages, the sound files can also transport us, especially with a good narrator that knows how to do all the voices just right.

We writers are told about the importance of reading our work aloud as we go, because the ear can pick up what the eye has missed. Maybe that’s because reading aloud reminds us about what it is to be storytellers, not just storywriters.

Is there a particular book you loved hearing read aloud, or one you wish they’d record? How many of us still read aloud to our children?

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Lynette Sowell writes fiction for the inspirational market, from contemporary romance to mysteries. She’s always looking for the perfect recipe for a story–or a great dish–and is always up for a Texas road trip. You can listen in to the Flashlight Reader on Monday nights here.

A “Perfect” Book

I’m going to piggyback my post with Beth’s from yesterday. The ACFW awards gala was amazing. It was a special evening to recognize winners in published and  published fiction. The air felt weighty with anticipation: whose work will win the top awards?

This year one book in particular that won the Carol Award for women’s fiction, Dandelion Summer, by Lisa Wingate. What distinguished it this year is that it’s the first book that received a perfect score from all five judges. Perfection.

When they closed the book, I’m wondering what went through their minds. Were they tired, or exhilarated? Did they wipe the tears away? Did certain turns of phrase resonate in their minds, even when they laid the book aside and went about their business?

I had the opportunity to interview Lisa on my online radio show, The Flashlight Reader, on Tuesday evening. She was stunned, thrilled to win, but also equally pleased that her book touched readers.

When I asked her about how she developed the characters for the book, she told me that the elderly male character in the book was based on a very-real character who was involved in the Howard Hughes space program. He’d become a fan of Lisa’s books and one day, while she was away researching, he told her his own story. One of the things he told her was he’d never told his story because he didn’t think it mattered to anyone.

Of course it did. Of course ours do.

His story went on to become the genetics of Lisa’s character. To think if she’d never heard his story or took the time to listen.

We all have stories, maybe none of them perfect. But our own stories can resonate with someone.

What’s the best true–or fictional–story you’ve read lately? Anything “perfect?”

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Lynette Sowell writes fiction for the inspirational market, from contemporary romance to mysteries. She’s always looking for the perfect recipe for a story–or a great dish–and is always up for a Texas road trip. You can listen in to the Flashlight Reader on Monday nights here.

What’s in a word?

I love pizza.

I love Saturday morning breakfast.

I love the full moon.

I love swimming at twilight.

I love my cat.

I love my husband.

I love hearing the still small Voice.

One word and so many different meanings. Love is a word that can be cheapened and tossed around glibly. I don’t love pizza like I love my husband.
So when I say, “I love you,” what does that mean? Love you like pizza?
Sometimes our words don’t mean much. I’m not posting to criticize our words. But it’s easy to clap a friend on the back and say, “Love ya,” and go on our way.
Check out 1 John 3:18. My little children, let us not love in word, neither in tongue; but in deed and in truth.
We can say I love you by what we do. The people in our lives, I’ve discovered, pass through so quickly sometimes. The younger we are, we think that our current situation will last forever. But then you wake up one day, and months or even years have passed. And so people move along as well. Either they leave this life, or leave our lives and move away, or people get too busy and grow apart.
I think back to the times I’ve told a friend I loved them, or assumed they “just knew.” Lately I’ve realized how it’s more important to do simple acts of love, those unexpected little things that will show someone that I love them. Not just telling them “love ya,” or figuring they already understood that.

What would mean something special to someone you love? A card or letter? An afternoon together? A cup of coffee, made just the way they like it? A verse you read, that you know they’d appreciate? A listening ear?

Deliberate demonstrations of love might make someone uncomfortable, though. When we acknowledge how truly important someone is to us, they may be embarrassed. But maybe it’s exactly what they needed.
My new promise to myself: no more regrets, no more holding back, no more thinking, “Oh, they already know I love them.”
Don’t forget to say I love you…Love out loud.

CHRISTIANS READ MEGA CONTEST AT THE BOOK CLUB NETWORK

SPECIAL ANNOUNCEMENT

Christians Read has teamed up with The Book Club Network for a special contest.  Details follow!
June 19-21

Enter the contest atThe Book Club Network HERE.

Contest runs for the month of June.  Be sure to enter–otherwise, you can’t win!

And please join us on FACEBOOK  and Twitter!

Blessings,

All the Christians Read Authors

Reinventing Tradition by Lynette Sowell

I had something pithy and profound to share, but in my early Black Friday haze, it’s forgotten. One thing that I’ve been thinking about during this season of Thanks-giving is how our traditions have morphed over the years into something else…the meaning of Thanksgiving can get lost in the pre-holiday grocery shopping hysteria and meal planning. We need to figure out family logistics–Whose home will be invaded? Who made what last year? We can’t have a proper Thanksgiving if we don’t have: A. Turkey; B. Stuffing; C. Some type of potato/starch; D. Cranberry Sauce; and E. Pumpkin pie and other desserts. We must also eat the equivalent of two days’ worth of calories, and the men will zonk out in front of the football games and the women take out the shopping papers. That’s Thanksgiving, right?

I’ve often tried to imagine what the first Thanksgiving was like back in 1621. I picture a group of people, tight-knit by this time after all they’ve been through–a long sea voyage, disease, a harsh winter, near starvation, followed by the hard work of a growing season.  Finally, a glimmer of hope after they bring in a harvest. The coming winter will be no less harrowing than the last, but this time they’re better prepared. They sit down to have a celebratory meal, and some guests show up. It’s the locals, who’ve been instrumental in their survival. These survivors owe a great debt of gratitude to the natives. So they sit down and food brings them together. They say a “thank you” to God and Providence for being here, one year later. Perhaps they think of those they’ve lost. Their party lasted for three days, according to the account of Edward Winslow, in a letter he wrote in December 1621.

“Our corn did prove well, and God be praised, we had a good increase of Indian corn, and our barley indifferent good, but our peas not worth the gathering, for we feared they were too late sown.  They came up very well, and blossomed, but the sun parched them in the blossom.  Our harvest being gotten in, our governor sent four men on fowling, that so we might after a special manner rejoice together after we had gathered the fruit of our labors.  They four in one day killed as much fowl as, with a little help beside, served the company almost a week.  At which time, amongst other recreations, we exercised our arms, many of the Indians coming amongst us, and among the rest their greatest king Massasoit, with some ninety men, whom for three days we entertained and feasted, and they went out and killed five deer, which they brought to the plantation and bestowed on our governor, and upon the captain and others.  And although it be not always so plentiful as it was at this time with us, yet by the goodness of God, we are so far from want that we often wish you partakers of our plenty.” ~ Edward Winslow  (bold added by me)

So feast away on what you can find. It needn’t be turkey. As you enjoy your leftovers, resist the pull of media to turn Thanksgiving into another shopping holiday. Yes, I love a good shopping deal, but that’s not Thanksgiving and not Christmas for me. I will not heap stress upon stress on myself in the next four weeks because of the pressure to make a proper holiday season. Who’s with me?

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Lynette Sowell writes fiction for the inspirational market, from contemporary romance to mysteries. She’s always looking for the perfect recipe for a story–or a great dish–and is always up for a Texas road trip.

A Day For Stories And Heroes by Lynette Sowell

.“Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” ~ John 15:13

Today is Veterans Day in the U.S., and it seems fitting to me that we salute our military veterans. Last Saturday, I had the opportunity to sit down and chat with one of our local veterans, one of the several thousand remaining Pearl Harbor survivors. Here are the highlights of our conversation.

In 1939, Henri Grenier was 18 years old, and like many young men his age, he joined the United States Army. Grenier’s parents originally came from Quebec and settled in Maine, where Grenier was born and raised. Grenier grew up in a predominantly French-speaking household. Henri, or Hank as he’s usually called, faced a unique challenge when he enlisted.

I hardly knew any English when I joined the Army,” said Grenier. “It took me 16 weeks to get through basic training instead of eight. I didn’t know what they meant by ‘right face’ or ‘left face.’ It took me a while to understand what they wanted me to do. I don’t really remember much French anymore, though.”

After basic training, Grenier was assigned to the 27th Infantry Regiment, known as the Wolfhounds. Once Grenier shipped out to the Pacific theater, he found himself at Pearl Harbor’s Schofield Barracks.

The Wolfhounds spent six months laying barbed wire off the beaches, preparing for any kind of sea invasion,” said Grenier. “Last year when my wife and I returned to Hawaii for the U.S.S. Arizona memorial, Waikiki  looked the same. I’m sure the wire was gone, though.” We laughed together about that one.

Ninety years old now, Grenier recalled the morning of December 7, 1941. “It was a regular Sunday morning. I remember us getting ready to line up for formation to go to the mess hall for breakfast. Then we heard the planes coming in. Didn’t think much of it at first. We thought it was either the Army or Navy doing some exercises. Then we heard the explosions of bombs dropping. People started yelling, ‘We’re under attack!’ We started running.”

Grenier recalls a fellow serviceman from his unit, John Majewski, was wounded during the attack and sent back to the mainland. “I never found out what happened to him.”

During his total of 23 years of service with the Army, Grenier joined the Wolfhounds in a number of operations, including Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands. “We left Hawaii about a year after Pearl Harbor, and started hopping to islands in the Pacific.”

He vividly remembers making an ocean landing by ship. “We couldn’t get too close to shore because of the size of our ship, so we had to go in personnel carriers. The Japanese were waiting for us.” He recounted the tough battle they faced as they left the ship. I knew without him saying, he been through more than he wanted to share, or remember.

The 27th Infantry fought the Japanese, as well as disease in their Pacific conflicts. Grenier returned to Maine in 1945, then eventually met a young lady named Donna during his time back home in the early 50′s.

We were at a party, and he asked me to dance,” said Donna Grenier. The couple was married in 1953 and she was by his side supporting him, including three assignments at Fort Hood and other posts throughout the U.S. The couple sunk their roots into Copperas Cove after Grenier retired as a 1st Sergeant in 1974, and Grenier went on to operate Grenier Fencing.

At the time I started, there were only a few fence companies around. Now if you look in the yellow pages, they’re all over the place.” The Greniers’ three sons didn’t follow in their father’s footsteps of a military career, but all three served in the military. One son has worked as a contractor, the other as a mechanic on Fort Hood. “One of my sons passed away, but the other two have had good jobs, so I’m glad of that, even though they didn’t stay in the military.”

Grenier and his wife enjoy their retirement together, usually found playing bingo at the VFW Post 8477. “If we’re not home, one of our sons will call and say, ‘I guess you’re playing bingo again,’” said Donna with a smile. She treasures a photograph of her husband in his full dress uniform taken three years ago. The photo is simply labeled, “A picture of my love, Grand Marshal of the Veterans Day parade.”

Last December at the U.S.S. Arizona memorial at Pearl Harbor and the dedication of the new visitors center, Grenier recalls looking down to where the Arizona went down 70 years ago this December.

There were other survivors there, and other family members of survivors. We threw wreaths of flowers into the water.”

Grenier still proudly wears his traditional olive drab green hat with a wide brim, worn at one point during his career when he was a DI, or drill instructor. The hat is studded with pins and miniature commemorative medals. “No, I never made anyone cry as a drill sergeant. What you see on TV or movies, all the yelling and screaming and getting in someone’s face. I didn’t do that. They did what I told them to, though,” he said.

There are several thousand survivors of the attack on Pearl Harbor who are alive to recall this pivotal moment in American History, and seventy years later, Hank Grenier is thankful to be here to recount his stories of service to his country. I’m thankful I was fortunate to listen to him. Whatever you do today, make sure you thank a veteran. If  you’re fortunate, you’ll get to hear a story..

A Real Keeper by Lynette Sowell

The book of Ecclesiastes says: “Of making many books there is no end, and much study wearies the body.” (Ecc. 12:12b) Isn’t that the truth? I mean, yes, it’s the Truth, but just go to Barnes & Noble or your local independent bookstore and take a stroll. Now with the ebook explosion, we’re surrounded by a virtual world of books as well.

How, then, do we decide what’s a keeper? Earlier this year, my husband and I decided to convert our son’s old bedroom into an office. This involved having our contractor move our built-in bookcases from our large eat-in kitchen to the new office. (Hooray, after years of sitting at the kitchen table or working in the living room, I have an office. I still pinch myself sometimes!)

The mammoth bookshelves have plenty of room for books–three sets of shelves, stacked seven shelves high, equals 21 shelves. Whew. Are you drooling yet? If you’re a book lover, you probably are. Sorry about that. I do have a point here.

I’m not talking up my bookshelves to turn you green-eyed. Because my husband, sweetheart that he is, said, “Honey, it would really be easier if you go through all your books before we move all of them into your office. We can get rid of some of them.”

What? Get RID of some of my books? He was right, though. Some of my old friends had dust on the tops (gulp, true confession). If I hadn’t picked them up in so long, why were they on the shelf? In the end, I brought six cardboard boxes of books to the town library to donate to their used book sale. I’m sure they went to good homes. Some copies were autographed.

I had to decide…what books are keepers? For me, these are what I call “landmark” books. When I pick up the book, I can remember how it made me feel. Did I laugh? Did I cry? Did it evoke any sort of emotion in me at all? Do I remember the characters? Would I honestly read this book again? This was a hard choice to make as I sorted books into two stacks, keep and give away.

I was left with a kaleidoscope of genres–historical, contemporary, chick lit, science fiction/speculative fiction suspense, romantic suspense, cookbooks (of course), nonfiction, reference books.

How do you decide a book is a keeper? Do you have stringent requirements for what makes it into your permanent collection? Or are you quick to pass a book along?

And We’re Off… by Lynette Sowell

Few things draw us into story world like a great opening. During the time before printed books were easy to purchase, before we downloaded books with the click of a button, families and groups would gather around the fire and settle down to hear the storyteller. A good storyteller could make the time pass quickly, chase the blues away, and remind listeners about the past so no one forgot it.

There are modern day storytellers who verbally recapture those times of old. You can always tell when a good story is about to begin. Something in the speaker’s tone, their voice, makes you lean forward to catch what’s next.

And so it is with books, or it should be. A good story will pull us in with the first page. For me, that happens in several ways.

As soon as possible, I find someone to root for or sympathize with. One of my favorite openings is with the book “Little Women.”

“Christmas won’t be Christmas without any presents,” grumbled Jo, lying on the rug.

“It’s so dreadful to be poor!” sighed Meg, looking down at her old dress.

“I don’t think it’s fair for some girls to have plenty of pretty things, and other girls nothing at all,” added little Amy, with an injured sniff.

“We’ve got Father and Mother and each other,” said Beth contentedly from her corner.

The four young faces on which the firelight shone brightened at the cheerful words, but darkened again as Jo said sadly, “We haven’t got Father, and shall not have him for a long time.” She didn’t say, “perhaps never,” but each silently added it, thinking of Father far away, where the fighting was.

The first time I read this book, I was about 12 years old. Imagining Christmas without presents? Horrible thought! I was immediately sympathetic for the girls from line one.

Another thing a good opening can give us is a glimpse of character. Who are we dealing with in this book? What are their personalities? Although I didn’t realize it, the first time I read Little Women, I saw a picture of each girl’s character from the first line. Jo, the improper one, lying on the rug. Meg, the lady of the group, who realizes her social status and doesn’t like it. Amy, the one concerned about image and determined to one day improve her station. And constant Beth, always finding the bright side of her situation.

A good opening will give us a sense of time–when are we? What’s going on in our characters’ lives? In the case of this classic book, not only is it Christmas time, but we have a family who’s separated. Father’s away during the Civil War, and they all know what that could mean for them.

A good opening will compel us to care, to read on.

Here’s the opening of a much more recent book, Hearts In Flight, by Patty Smith Hall:

“You’ll never catch a husband if you keep messing with that plane.”

Maggie Daniels bumped her head on the instrument panel, the memory of her mother’s words at the breakfast table faintly ringing in her ears.

The same is true here. Who’s Maggie? Why does she mess with planes? Maggie’s clearly bucking tradition of being occupied with finding a husband first. She’s also a girl whose elders’ words follow her wherever she goes.

In this Love Inspired Historical set during World War II, I saw from the git-go that Maggie’s not your typical Southern belle, and I wanted to read about her.

What’s your favorite opening from a book you’ve read recently? Why did it make you keep reading?

What A Character… by Lynette Sowell

First, thank you, Vicki (and your cyber-elf), for setting up Christians Read. I’m excited to be part of a forum where we can talk books, books, and books. But what’s a book without characters that don’t follow us from the pages?

The USA Network’s slogan is pretty neat… Characters Welcome. Of course they put emphasis on quirky. This is why reality shows are so successful. We love vivid, real people living out slices of life (almost) without a script. Edited, of course, but you just never know what stunts people are going to pull. I believe that the characters we create as writers can leap off the page as vividly as the most memorable people we’ve known. For me, those very real characters include:

George Meister was a guy in a nursing home. My family met him when I was about twelve, when my parents decided to go visit the old folks. Our family had a friendship with him for several years. I remember him as wrinkled, gray, and round with a shelf full of books in his room. He lent me a book about the Dead Sea scrolls, not the typical preteen’s reading, but I wasn’t a typical pre-teen. We’d sit and talk about archaeology, too.

I think of my Great Uncle Enrico, who ran a restaurant for many years in South Hadley, Mass. His wife and three daughters helped him, and he always gave me a candy bar whenever I visited. I called him “The Candy Man” after I’d seen Willy Wonka and The Chocolate Factory. After Uncle Enrico died, Aunt Cecile sold the place. His funeral was one of the largest South Hadley had ever seen at that time–everyone knew Caproni’s Luncheonette, and everyone knew Uncle Enrico.

Then there’s Jocie, who decided once she retired to go to the Philippines and start an orphanage. Just like that. When I met her while she was on furlough here in the States, I realized that retirement doesn’t mean retired, and poor in the world’s eyes doesn’t mean you can’t own beautiful things. She was an older single lady who ministered to this then-single lady and show her how life is only limited by us, that God doesn’t limit our calling.

I could go on about the characters who’ve drifted through and are still in my life (hey, I married a character!), but you get the idea. We see an image of someone, perhaps even without knowing anything about eye color or hair color or height. We automatically know what kind of food they’d like, their car, what they’re afraid of, and what makes them laugh out loud.

One of my favorite book characters from childhood is Meg Murry O’Keefe from Madeleine L’Engle’s time travel series. We first see her as a fumbling adolescent with glasses and braces, not knowing her place in the world, and later as a strong confident young woman with a baby on the way, and still doing battle against evil. The memory of her character sticks with me now, years later.

Then there’s Kristin Billerbeck’s Ashley Wilkes Stockingdale. Who can forget the patent lawyer fashionista? Kristin’s readers still clamor for more of Ashley, long after the series is over. And then there’s Rachel Hauck’s Caroline Sweeney in Sweet Carolina–who gets saddled with running a restaurant while her heart’s calling her away to her dream job.

What about you? Are there characters from fiction that months or years later after you’ve closed the book, still resonate with you?

Oh, and the photo of Mr. “I Voted?” Well, that’s the character I married. We go through our life’s story laughing, and what’s not to love about that?

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