Author Alexander Chee has 100 observations on writing a novel.
“8. It is like having imaginary friends that are the length of city blocks. The pages you write are like fingerprinting them, done to prove to strangers they exist.
9. Reading a novel successfully is then the miracle of being shown such a fingerprint and being able to guess the face, the way she walks, the times she fell in love incorrectly or to bad result, etc.”
There are 100 such things. (via Jane Friedman)
A designer has worked up a typography video of Carl Sandburg’s poem, “Chicago.” There’s a small promo at the beginning.
Here’s one Patrick may have enjoyed more than the previous song.
Christ’s is the Seed
Christ’s is the Harvest
Into God’s barn
May we be brought.
While in choir practice last night, it occurred to me (and I think others have said it before) that Patrick would want us to remember a day in his honor by honoring the Lord God who drove the darkness out of Ireland. So here’s an Irish hymn: ‘Mo Ghrá’sa, Mo Dhia’ (My Love, My God)
Prithee, I beg your attention a moment. I did not slur all Irish folk music as being pulled from the sad sack. I believe I said that only of Irish love songs. Give a listen to this drinking song, which for the record is not a love song:
It’s St. Patrick’s Day this week. This version is not the version I’m most familiar with. Apparently, the small Irish band which came to town some years ago and encouraged me to buy their CD sang an ancient version of this very old song. The gist is the same. A young man last sees his bride-to-be walking through the fair. Sometime afterwards, she dies, and in the last verse, her ghost visits him at night to say her final words to him again.
That’s the way Irish love songs go. One lover dies; another one is rejected; or another couple is opposed by their family or society or circumstances from living happily ever after. Moral: Don’t love an Irish person.
Mike D’Virgilio talks about the first season of “Spartacus” and what the world would be like if Christianity had never existed. As we’ve touched on many times on this blog, one thing that would been different is the idea of forgiveness. Forgive others as Christ has forgiven you? Crazy. I wonder if Islam, which spun off of Muhammad’s exposure to Christianity, would have come about either. Even Buddhism and parts of Hinduism have changed in response to the teachings of Christ Jesus. The Way, the Truth, and the Life has really turned people upside down over the years.
Yesterday, I saw that Zondervan had dropped Rob Bell’s book proposal back when it was in process. The implication given for the relationship break was the book or author did not fit with Zondervan’s mission to “glorify Jesus Christ and promote biblical principles.” That book, Love Wins: A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived
I mention it here in part because reviewers are taking Bell to task for misapplying the words of Martin Luther. Our favorite Reformer wrote: “It would be quite a different question whether God can impart faith to some in the hour of death or after death so that these people could be saved through faith. Who would doubt God’s ability to do that?” I’m told Bell believes this is a good example of those who believe or are open to believing the Lord will save people after their death.
Two great bloggers, whose shoes I am not worthy to untie, point to Carl Trueman’s article criticizing Bell’s quotation. The posts citing this one come from Jared Wilson: “So Luther’s letter is a clear denial of the idea that God will save faithless people after they die, but Bell quotes one or two lines to argue that Luther believes the opposite. At best this is sloppy; at worst, it is deceptive. I believe the worst.” And Justin Taylor: “To be sure, Bell’s misuse of Luther is relatively minor compared with, say, his handing of Scripture (which is among the worst I have ever seen in a published book).”
If you haven’t read Tim Challies and Aaron Armstrong’s review of Bell’s book, Love Wins
All of that to say, of course, that Bell is the next Billy Graham, and you should join his church. I don’t see how anyone could argue with that conclusion.
Six hamburgers, fries and cokes—Doug toddles to his car, fast food bags stuffed between his arms. Setting a drink tray on top of his minivan, he catches a beggar’s empty stare across the parking lot. He fumbles for his keys. The beggar shudders to his feet. Finally inside, Doug locks the doors, drops the keys, and starts the minivan.
“Stay calm,” he mutters. “Don’t know why he’s waving. Can’t see him.”
He drives away, watching the sad beggar in the side mirror. The red light comes up quick, and with his jerky stop, coke sloshes his windshield from above.
(100 Word Short Short or Flash Fiction)
Last night, my children were thinking about what they would give up for the next few weeks, and I tried to guide them. First, they were not instruct each other on what to give up. Second, Lent isn’t essentially about giving up stuff.
If we deny ourselves during the weeks leading up to Easter, we do so in order to promote our devotion to our heavenly Father. If we give up using Facebook, drinking colas, eating desserts, watching movies or reading novels, we want to do it so that we put ourselves in a place where we remember our Lord more than we did before. Perhaps when Easter comes, we will have taken an axe to one of our idols because we rejected something during Lent and will have a quieter spirit, a more submissive heart, for our daily routine. We will have tried to let go of trivial supports and leaned more on the Lord.
But maybe giving something up isn’t what we should do over the next few weeks. I mean, maybe it isn’t all we should do, because our intent is to wean ourselves off of worldly things and love Christ Jesus more, see God the Father working around us more, and know the Holy Spirit within us more than we did before. So maybe we should plan to study the Bible or memorize parts of it or learn to pray using the Psalms. Maybe we should find someone willing to meet us weekly for a discipleship study or a few people to help us serve our church and community.
“To suppose that whatever God requireth of us, that we have power of ourselves to do, is to make the cross and grace of Jesus Christ of none effect.” – John Owen (quoted by the Spirit-filled Puritan)
That’s the point of denying ourselves during Lent. We want to forget our own power (or the illusion of it) and rely on Christ Jesus, our Savior and King.