Serials and Scenarios - Chris Well - Tribulation House

I've run into some sort of bizarre mail-type of conspiracy.

Maybe Chris Well can use it as the plot of his next novel.

Twice I've been offered a Chris Well book for review. Twice I've accepted -- rather enthusiastically. "Deliver us From Evelyn" looked like a must read. I waited and waited and never got it. sigh. I did read the first chapter and it proved to be very interesting and entertaining, I'm sure I would've loved the book.

One day, I'll get my hands on a copy and read the darn thing.

And, now. I have no review for Tribulation House. I didn't get the book.

Suppose my mailbox is attached to a worm hole?

The space kind, of course.

Seriously. Every day I wait expectantly for the book. I've gotten several books, just not Chris Well's.

At least he took pity on me and answered some of my squirrely questions.

His answers appear in blue, as per usual. Color me red.

And click on the book and it will take you to Amazon where you can read other reviewer's comments.

What would you write if there were no rules or barriers? (epic novels about characters in the Bible, poetry, greeting cards, plays,movies, instruction manuals, etc.)

I’d love to find the time to write some plays. And radio dramas. It’s been too long.

Book, music, person, food you would take with you on a very longtrip.

Book: Writing The Novel: From Plot to Print, Lawrence Block

Music: Woodface, Crowded House

Person: My wife, Erica

Food: Nutter Butter Peanut Butter Sandwich Cookies.

Where would you most like to travel ----- moon, north pole, deepseas, deserted island, the holy land or back to a place from yourchildhood, somewhere else? – and why.

As a kid, reading the Chronicles of Narnia gave me a warm feeling thatmade me want to go there.

Favorite season and why?

I like the fall. It’s cool like spring, but without all the coughing and sneezing.

Super power you'd love to borrow for awhile?

Super speed. I hate being late for stuff.

Favorite chore

If I enjoy it, is it actually a “chore”?

Grammatical pet peeve…sound off.

“U.F.O.” is not synonymous with “flying saucer”! Once you IDENTIFY something as a “flying saucer” it is no longer “unidentified”! AARGH!

Scribbles and Scrambles - Motherhood Moments - Girls

I suppose if I was a great mother I'd separate my girls and share what I love best about each of them.

I'll settle for being a decent mother.

If you've ever parented sisters, you probably understand that this is nearly impossible anyway.

Besides, I can always share something and still act as if I haven't, because they will a) blame it on each other or b) I can claim to have been talking about the other one.


What can I say about girls? Sugar and spice and everything nice?


Obviously written by someone who didn't have a set. Nice is sometimes not an option.

Spice - well, that is rarely lacking.

Snuggle time seems to be a big issue at our house. As is what I label as LOUD time. Snuggle time is when one of the girls wants my undivided attention. This always results in a dog pile kind of event where I sometimes pass out from a stray foot to the temple, or at least see pretty light shows in my head from the lack of oxygen as they take turns wrestling me from each other.

Sometimes I feel like our home is a small cardboard box of puppies. The mother dog jumps in and is set upon like food at a picnic. Did I mention the mother dog's exhaustion? And headache?

Writhing warm bodies seeking something from me...all the time...must get fresh air.

Loud time. I believe the adolescent female voice, if honed, could cut glass. I know it's robbed me of acute hearing, and brought Rob to tears a time or two. My suggestion to anyone with girls - DO NOT EVER STAND in between two girls having any sort of fight, competion, conversation or attitude exchange. NOT. On the flip side - mumble time is used frequently to rest the voice - preparing it for the next loud session. There is no middle decibel.

But then just when I think my nervous tics will never go away, they do something so sweet, so special, I dare would call it sugar. There's just nothing like a dewy-eyed girl who's intent on sharing her heart.

My girls can bake brownies, too. This belongs in the plus category.

They often attract and bring home other nice girls who love chocolate and bring it along. Or the friends with terribly good taste and wonderful senses of humor may think of me as funny and begin calling me Mom B or some other sort of pet name.

Rob has learned to look both ways before darting down any hallways. One never knows if a friend has dropped by, or if a daughter is feeling a little on edge. If it's too quiet in house, he steps carefully and asks me questions with his eyes - whites showing. But the boy prepared him for sneak attacks and sudden lunges, so he's still pretty quick on his feet.

Serials and Scenarios - Paul Robertson

Paul opted out of answering the usual dregs questions. Instead he has posed a few to us.

And he has some deep thoughts, too.

What do you think?


After reading through some of the comments already posted, I’d rather ask questions of all of you than answer questions about myself.

Where is Christian Fiction supposed to be going, and what is it, anyway? Writing the stuff is very different than reading it. There are a lot more limitations – I find that I’m very poor at creating a convincing “conversion” scene, for example. A reader would feel a plot was incomplete without it. For a different reader, the story would lose all credibility when a character drops to his knees.

I sure think Jason needs to get saved. His whole state needs for him to get saved. His whole state needs to get saved. I hope any of them do.

I know what Christian Fiction should do, or what the world needs for it to do. I live about two miles from Norris Hall on the Virginia Tech campus here in Blacksburg, VA. I have close friends who were personally touched by the shootings here last week. It’s amazing how many connections 32 people can have in a community of forty thousand – everyone knows someone who was closely affected. Everyone has questions and for many of them, an evangelism tract or a church service are not answers. What can I say to them, and how can I say it? These are not just the “unsaved”. It might have been an even bigger shock to comfortable Christians who thought they had God figured out.

My goal is to speak Christ and Truth to the church and the world. The moment of one person’s salvation doesn’t happen by itself – there will be a process, maybe years or decades, and people will be at all different stages. After salvation, the process continues. That’s where it even starts for real. I want to explore that process and illuminate God’s work in individual lives.

Thanks to everyone for their time and willingness to read “The Heir”. I hope at least some people enjoyed it! I’ve been reading the reviews. It’s helpful to see what a diversity of expectations and interests readers have.

The plan is for “Road to Nowhere” to come out next spring (2008), depending of course on Bethany’s schedule. No billionaires. Just the Board of Supervisors of a tiny county in the mountains of North Carolina and some real big issues they end up dealing with. Including an abrupt vacancy on the board itself …

God bless

- Paul Robertson

Serials and Scenarios - The Heir

Click on the book...it'll take you to Amazon and you can read a bit of Paul Robertson's novel.

(I'm getting techie aren't I? ; ) Did I ever mention the time my cousin asked me a computer question - yeah, the one in web design. Hello. This is the kid who watched me back over his tricycle. But the moment felt good!


My Review:


I can't believe a left-brained man wrote this novel. To be honest, I put it toward the bottom of my "to read" pile because it was written by a man who works with computers and teaches science.

Was I ever wrong about an assumption.

Okay, there are guy, and plenty of logical detail type things in The Heir. Cars, boats, spread sheets, stocks, big business, stuff that just doesn't appeal to my right brain, word-loving mind. But handled by Paul Robertson, these details are not boring, nor did they once trigger my gag reflex.

Great story, well told, tight writing. The meaning of life permeates through a dry wit and sarcastic first person point of view. The author's voice is a pleasant blend of John Grisham and Randy Alcorn.

All is not what it seems to be. And I found several surprises, some pleasant, some not so wonderful, both in the writing and in the plot. One of the surprises was the lack of Christianese.

The Heir veers into far-fetched a time or two, but the cynicism of the narrator and the charming relationship between him and his younger brother makes this an engaging read.


Rumor has it that I may have a few Q and A's for you to peruse tomorrow afternoon.

Scribbles and Scrambles - Motherhood Moments - Boy Child

I had an impromptu lunch with my son last week.

He's all grown up, been married for almost two years, and sometimes I miss him so much my heart aches.

We attend the same church and he and his wife are as busy as Rob and I. Our paths cross, we hug, we share a bit of news, laugh and that keeps us just enough in touch that the ache is more like a longing.

We are so proud of our son. He is a kind man, a good husband, and he's following the path the Lord has set out for him.

But sometimes I miss him like crazy.

Hard to believe that just a decade ago, his sole delight was pushing my buttons. All of them -- in random and rapid succession. He'd laugh uproariously when I attempted to discipline.

Apparently, or so my children tell me, my humor blossoms when watered with the monsoon of extreme annoyance. My sarcasm ripens, my expressions delight them. Yes. I'm hysterically funny when I'm frustrated.

My son triggered a tiny but intense nervous breakdown once.

The location, the kitchen, where many of our encounters took place.

I believe he was juggling a plate. Well, not really juggling, more like tossing and putting intense spinerage on the stoneware. Of course it was one of the only unchipped pieces. This was his favorite pastime - after heckling me.

I can't remember the exact details of my breakdown. Maybe I was sweeping up glass bits from the juggling of the mug gone bad.

Maybe he was playing his "I don't understand" game.

This is my personal favorite. He'd develop a glassy-eyed stare and watch my mouth as I spoke. If I pinned him down, forced him to recount what I'd just tried to explain he'd restate it in jibberish or a foreign language, or out of context, or any other creative spin to mess up my words. The topics - far-ranging - could be life plans, serious spiritual concerns, instructions, chore lists. The topic just didn't matter.

Back to the mini-breakdown. I remember snapping at him for saying or doing something. I believe he laughed. I cried, and then I started laughing and couldn't stop. And the whole thing lasted less than a minute. Yep, the entire gamut of emotions -- anxiety, hopelessness, frustration, rage, hysteria, sadness and joy -- run through in seconds.

When and if he reads this his chest will probably swell with pride - or his eyes water from laughing.

But one day he'll have children of his own.

Scribble and Scrambles - Warty Monograms and Motorcycle Cells

I left the office early Friday.

The beauty of flexible scheduling.

I drove around town with my windows down and the wind whipping my hair in my eyes. This is probably illegal, or at least a bad idea, but after seeing what I saw Thursday, I'm not too worried.

Thursday, I spied a man on a motorcycle. He was easy to see since he pulled out in front of me.

Guess what he was busy doing? Yep. Talking on a cellphone - did I mention he was riding as in driving a motorcycle - one of those things with two wheels and no protective aluminum or fiberglass shell?

While still on the phone, after pulling out in front of me, he turned into a grocery store parking lot.

This was impressive.

Maybe he's got one of those new "look, Ma! No hands!" motorcycles. He didn't use his turn signal. I suppose he didn't want to upset his equilibrium.

While I drove Friday with the whipping frenzy of my hair and bits of grit from the street exfoliating my face, I noticed something else that bugged me.

Bugs me - in present tense -- almost every time I drive past.

Someone built a huge luxury mansion on the top of one of our town's many hills. They installed gates over the driveway and graveled the banks on either side of the gates. A worker, a landscape artist no doubt, painstakingly smoothed the pinkish gravel into a flat sea of weed-free yard and then crafted a perfect six foot letter.

A gravel monogram.

But this was over a year ago, and shortly after this artistic and tasteful yard-styling, someone or something knocked some of the white gravel outside of it's little barrier and the huge letter now has a blurry growth.

There is a wart on the monogram. A hairy wart. And no one has fixed it.

Do you suppose I could be arrested for trespassing if I sneak over some night and repair it?

Hey, maybe they are trying to capture an anal-retentive Sasquatch. I hadn't thought of that.

Serials and Scenarios - Annette Smith - Big Life Q & A

Happy Friday, all.

Annette Smith, author of A Bigger Life is gracing us with her thoughts and comments. I can see why I liked A Bigger Life as much as I did. If you like what Annette has to say, you are going to like her book.


Some out there in writing land have strange rituals. Share yours.


It's not strange but it's definitely caffeinated. Got to have lots of coffee to get me started and to keep me going.


Favorite turn of phrase or word picture, in literature or movie.

And they all lived happily ever after.


What period of history intrigues you the most?

I find the 60's fascinating. I know those were years of great social change and turmoil, but I admire the passionate activism of that era. I also love the music and the fashions. Think about it. Where would we be without the Beatles and the peasant blouse?


What would you write if there were no rules or barriers? (epic novels about characters in the Bible, poetry, greeting cards, plays, movies, instruction manuals, etc.)

Graffiti. I'm always tempted to add my two cents to what's on the bathroom stall walls.


What makes you feel alive?

Many things:
Music, especially live performances. Art. I love galleries and outdoor festivals. Spending time in nature, even just kicked back on my front porch, feeds my soul. I am also energized by deep, off-the-wall conversations with creative, free-spirited, out-of-the box people. The intimate drama inherent in my work as a hospice nurse makes me feel unbelievably alive and alert.


How does something worm its way into your heart? Through tears, truth, humor or other?

I am drawn to the poignant. I find deep meaning in tragedy and loss.


Book, music, person, food you would take with you on a very long trip.

I'd take my Bible and a blank notebook, Norah Jones' Come Away With Me CD, my husband Randy, Green and Black dark chocolate bars, Rice Crispie Treats, and Dasani bottled water.


Where would you most like to travel ----- moon, north pole, deep seas, deserted island, the holy land or back to a place from your childhood, somewhere else? – and why.

That deserted island sounds tempting! I love both solitude and the ocean and am very content when my feet are in the surf and my bottom is sunk into the sand.


Favorite season and why?

I love springtime because of the sheer beauty. Living in a forested part of east Texas, the trees are simply gorgeous right now. Looking out my kitchen window, I can see an amazing number of shades of green against the bluest sky you can imagine. The air is cool. Birds are singing, and clouds of wildflowers bank the roads.


Favorite book setting and why?

Elizabeth Berg is one of my favorite writers. In every one of her books, she lovingly describes the smallest of domestic details in ways that make me want to move right into her settings. I love her kitchens, her gardens, her bedrooms. Every time I read one of her books, I am struck with the desire to rearrange my own nest.


Which compliment related to your writing has meant the most and why?

Readers have told me they can't believe A Bigger Life was really written by a woman. It was a risky venture for me, a middle-aged mainstream wife and mom, to write in the first-person male voice of Joel, a twenty-seven year-old single dad. I love it when someone tells me I nailed his voice.


What criticism has cut the deepest and why?

I am so hard on myself that criticism never surprises me. I nearly always agree with my critics.


What would you do today if you knew you had only a week to live?

I'd get up early and have my coffee on my front porch. I'd water my plants and clean out my underwear drawer. Knowing that in my absence, he'd simply toss it in the dryer and think that was good enough, I'd iron a shirt for my husband to wear to my funeral. I'd invite family and friends to come for dinner and I'd hope they'd spend the night. I'd pet my sweet pooch Wallie and eat oatmeal cookies in bed. I'd buy fresh flowers and put them in every room of my house. I'd write letters to my future grandchildren.


What is your favorite word?

Feign. I think I've managed to work it into ten of my twelve books.


What word annoys you more than any other?

I'm not fond of suddenly.


Favorite chore

Folding clothes. I love it when all there's nothing dirty in the hamper and everything is clean, sweet-smelling, and put where it belongs.


Anything you'd do but don't because of fear of pain? What is it? Ex.
Bungee jumping, sky diving, running with scissors.

My parents' encouraged my adventurous spirit, but they did forbid me to ride a motorcycle. My friend Ken rides an enormous black BMW. When I get up my nerve, I'm going to ask him to take me for a spin.


Societal pet peeve…sound off.

The constant presence of television. TV's are everywhere, in restaurants, hospital waiting rooms, and airports. I don't believe the background noise and rapidly changing images add anything to our quality of life.