Monday, April 30, 2007

Fiction Fast? : Three Advantages of Fiction

Fiction falls into one of three main “colors”: white (good craft and control), black (bad craft and content), and gray (good craft and bad content or bad craft and good content).

The first, obviously, are must-read stories that are safe to read. The second has dangerous theology, but the writing is so bad that no one would want to read it anyway. But, for better or worse, most fiction falls into one of the two middle categories—into the gray area. So what’s a Christian supposed to do?

One possible solution is to completely shun all fiction, film or book. After all, if fiction is so dangerous, wouldn’t it be safest to cut it completely from our diet?

I admit, fasting from some story types for short periods can be wise. I also know you might have to limit some stories for your imagination health, like a diabetic limiting sweets. But to cut all fiction all the time—it would be like eating bread and water three meals a day, 365 days a year: You can survive, but why would you eat only that if you don’t have to? Besides, eating bread and water isn’t exactly the healthiest menu.

So why am I convinced that fiction is necessary to a balanced imagination diet? Consider these three advantages:

Entertainment: In short, fiction allows us to escape. For a few short hours we enjoy people we’ve never met and experience places and events few of which we will ever know, allowing us to leave behind our ordinary world of stress, conflict, and unpredictability. Then we return to the real world, refreshed from focusing on another’s problems as if we’ve taken an emotional nap.

I know some people think fiction as escape is a great evil, and yes, taken to an extreme, it can be dangerous. But so is food. Eaten in excess (gluttony), it can lead to obesity and to death. But that doesn’t mean food isn’t good and necessary.

Perspective: Closely related to escape’s emotional nap is the provision of fresh perspective. Just as sleeping distances us from a problem (hence the old advice to “sleep on it”), fiction lifts us above our daily lives. It reminds us those mountains may be mole hills and grants us hope that despite our current problems, our story will end well too. After all, Frodo had to pass through Mordor before he could destroy the ring, and the Pevensie children had to fight a great battle before they were crowned kings and queens of Narnia.

Experience: Ever been told to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes? Nothing beats real life experience, but in a limited way fiction also allows us to do that without having to directly experience the pain: We watch events unfold, often from multiple perspectives; feel a character’s frustration, pain, and joy; and glimpse the why behind the decisions. For a moment we see the world through the eyes of God, you might say. And while fiction cannot represent reality perfectly, it lets us gain a shade of understanding as to why a bereaved parent, rebellious child, and antagonistic lover react the way they do.

More than that, should you find yourself in the same position as a character, your situation may not seem so overwhelming: You’ve already “experienced” this once before and have some idea of what to do—and what not to.

So those are three of fiction’s advantages, although hardly the only ones. So what are some benefits you gain from the imaginary?

Feet on the ground, head in the clouds,
Chawna Schroeder

Thursday, April 26, 2007

Landon Snow


Title: Landon Snow and the Auctor’s Riddle, Landon Snow, Book 1

Author: R. K. Mortenson

Genre: Mid-grade fantasy/humor

Chapter 1 of Landon Snow and the Auctor’s Riddle:

The leaves were already turning color and beginning to fall when the Snow family made their trek from Minneapolis north to Button Up, Minnesota. Landon, who was about to turn eleven years old, especially looked forward to the trip for two reasons. Well, two and a half, really. One: he got to see his grandfather, Grandpa Karl, who told wonderful stories and loved books. Two: Grandpa Karl would take him and anyone else who was interested to visit the oldest and largest privately funded library in the state. This was the button Up Library, known to locals as the BUL. And the half reason Landon liked to visit his grandparents? Grandma Alice and her cooking. Especially her lemon bars. Mm, they were good.

Landon had forgotten that his mother’s SUV was in the shop getting fixed, so when his two younger sisters called for window seats as they raced past him to the car, he stood momentarily stunned. This meant he would be stuck between them in the backseat of their dad’s small sedan. It also meant there would be no DVD movie to watch. Landon would have been happy looking at a book for the three-and-a-half-hour drive. Except for one reason: reading in the car gave him a terrible headache.

Landon sighed. This was going to be a long trip.

A tunnel behind a bookshelf leads eleven-year-old Landon Snow to a riddle and a journey to find its meaning.

The Writing: For me, the writing was okay. I found it very difficult to get into the story, even though Landon Snow is likeable and there’s some wonderful moments of humor. But the first half of the book lacks any clear direction, motive, or antongonist—that is, the conflict seems poorly defined. And no conflict, no story.

While I understand this is likely due to this story’s themes (see “The Story”), it makes it easy for me, the reader, to put the book down and walk away. In addition, everything from cover art to the tone of the book to the themes seems to indicate this was intended as a Christian come back to a Series of Unfortunate Events.

A personal pet peeve of mine, I hate it when Christians write a Christian come back to something secular—basically because the imitation is usually poorer, as it is the case with Landon Snow and A Series of Unfortunate Events. For example, the narrator’s voice in A Series of Unfortunate Events grabs you and doesn’t let go from the first sentence. Landon Snow’s narrator is interesting, but doesn’t hold your attention in the same way.

In addition, in children’s fiction, this imitation often creates a preachy voice because, I’m sorry, no matter how hard you try to hide it, you’re writing to teach your reader why your way is better or truer or whatever. I don’t care for that in fiction as an adult, and I definitely didn’t care for it as a child.

The Story: From the first chapters, Mr. Mortenson makes it very clear that the theme of the story is that life is not coincidence, the very antithesis of Lemony Snicket’s series. Therefore, to prove life isn’t an accident, Mr. Mortenson starts the book off with a series of bizarre, seemingly coincidental events, which as I mention under “The Writing” plays havoc with the story structure. But it gets the point across, and he hammers the point in several more times before the rather didactic end. So in content, this is very “safe” reading. Perhaps too safe.

Summary: The writing works, but the didactic nature and the slow beginning doesn’t make for the greatest read. Yes, this book is “safer” to hand the mid-grade readers than A Series of Unfortunate events, if they must have something. But my recommendation is that you bypass both series and find something both edifying and entertaining.

Rate: 2.9 stars out of 5

Monday, April 23, 2007

The Color of Story

What makes a good story “good”? In my Monday post two weeks ago of that title, I decided that a good story (based on Genesis 2:9) consists of two parts: excellence in the execution of the writing (good craft) and biblically sound themes and their proper treatment (good content).

Having two standards, however, means that stories are no longer just black or white. The black and white can also combine, giving us four possible categories, not two. So now we must deal with black and white and a new third color, gray.

So what makes a story black or white or gray? Let’s look at each of them separately.

White—good content, good craft: This is the ideal. It meets the standard God used, giving us a story that is a pleasure to read and a benefit to the soul. Therefore, these stories can be enjoyed without fear or worry. Nothing meets the standard perfectly, of course, but some authors have come pretty close. I would include authors such as C. S. Lewis, J. R. R. Tolkien, Dorothy L. Sayers, and G. K. Chesterton on that list.

Black—bad content, bad craft: These are fairly rare. A secular publisher might release a book with bad content, but usually the craft is excellent. A Christian publisher might release a book with bad craft, but often the content is powerful. But nonetheless, occasionally one gets through and should be avoided, since it is completely opposite God’s standards. Thankfully, we aren't tempted to read them often—if the craft is truly “bad,” you’ll most likely stop reading before page fifty, unless it is required for school or something similar.

Gray—bad content, good craft/ good content, bad craft: Ah! Here we reach the rub. Most books fall into this area and what a friction they cause! We want to read the first (bad content, good craft) because the writing is so engaging—but we read the latter because it’s healthy and “safe.”

So what’s a Christian suppose to do? What do you do? Which gray books do you read and why? And why not touch the others?

Feet on the ground, head in the clouds,
Chawna Schroeder

Wednesday, April 18, 2007

Legends of the Guardian-King

By the time I realized that my first CSFF blog tour would be Karen Hancock’s Return of the Guardian-King, I lacked the time to sufficiently prepare an interview or read The Return of the Guardian-King—much to my dismay. (Rest assured, I will be reading and reviewing it in the future, as soon as I can buy the book.) Ah, such are the problems of a newbie.

But it would be strange to review the series out of sequence anyway. You wouldn’t want to read book four before book one. So today I’ll review book one, The Light of Eidon, in hopes of encouraging a few to try the whole series.

The Light of Eidon, Book 1 of Legends of the Guardian-King, Chapter 1:



“Why do we serve the Flames?”

“To ward the realm from Shadow.”

“Why must we guard our purity?”

“To keep the Flames strong and bright.”

They sat cross-legged on the barge cabin’s single, narrow bunk, facing each other—Novice and discipler—their voices alternating in a steady rhythm of question and answer that had gone unbroken for nearly an hour. Since the noon prayer service they had been reviewing the six codices of the First Guardian Station, codices Eldrin must know tomorrow for the final test of his novitiate. He had long since learned them so well he could answer without hesitation, but he didn’t mind the repetition. Right now it was just the sort of superficial mental occupation he needed to keep his thoughts off other things.

“What is the source of the Shadow?” asked his discipler, one bony, ink-stained finger pressed to the page of the open catechism in his lap.

“The arrogance of Moroq conceived it,” Eldrin replied. “The passions of the flesh sustain it.”

“Who is Moroq?”

“The dark son of Eidon and Lord Ruler of the rhu’ema. The Adversary. No man can stand against him, save One.”

“And that One is?”

“Eidon, Lord of Light, Creator of All, Defender of Man. Soon may he come, and swift be his judgment.”

Betrayed by a spiritual mentor and his younger brother, Prince Abramm is sold into slavery, where every day becomes a fight for his life.

The Writing: Like many good sci-fi and fantasy writers, Karen Hancock’s writing is full of vivid and concise detail. Sometimes it’s too much for me—I read a book fast the first time through since I have an intense sense of suspense—but readers who like elegant language will appreciate the rich linguistic tapestry she has woven. In addition, her characters are complex and her plot intricate, making it enjoyable reading for the story-driven reader like me.

So in short, although I became confused at times about where I was in the story, the writing is much improved over Ms. Hancock’s first book, Arena.

The Story: The first time I read the beginning of The Light of Eidon, I must admit that alarms went off it my head. I had recently come off studying Mormonism, and these opening pages echoed what I’d read. I don’t know if that was Ms. Hancock’s intention, but if anyone else is alarmed by this—don’t worry. As far as I can judge, the allegorical/spiritual dimension of this story is set right before the end of the book.

I also felt very uncomfortable when I originally read the book with how the followers of Eidon seem able to manipulate the power of Eidon—almost like white magic. But this seems partially the result of creating a new world that was never intended to be perfectly allegorical, and the further I read into the series, the true nature is made clearer. And even within this first book, it’s made clear the power comes from Eidon and without following/obeying him, the followers will self-destruct.

Finally, I should warn the more sensitive reader that Ms. Hancock does not shy away from the dark side of war, lust, and betrayal. Her characters are real and flawed, resulting in actions and attitudes that might make some squirm, but are real to the core. However, while she makes these emotions and situations clear, she doesn’t dwell heavily upon them, make them graphically explicit, or use them unnecessarily.

Summary: An exciting read with engaging characters. If you like epic fantasy with complex new worlds and broad themes, this is a good read. However, this was marketed as an adult novel for good reasons, and therefore I recommend that readers under sixteen probably avoid reading this until they’re older.

Rating: 3.7 stars of 5

Other blog tour participants:

Karen Hancock Nissa Annakindt Wayne Thomas Batson Jim Black Jackie Castle Valerie Comer Karri Compton Frank Creed CSFF Blog Tour Gene Curtis D. G. D. Davidson Chris Deanne Janey DeMeo April Erwin Kameron M. Franklin Linda Gilmore Beth Goddard Marcus Goodyear Andrea Graham Katie Hart Sherrie Hibbs Sharon Hinck Christopher Hopper Heather R. Hunt Becca Johnson Jason Joyner Karen Tina Kulesa Lost Genre Guild Kevin Lucia and The Bookshelf Reviews 2.0 - The Compendium Rachel Marks Rebecca LuElla Miller Shannon McNear Caleb Newell Nicole Eve Nielsen John W. Otte Robin Parrish Rachelle Cheryl Russel Hanna Sandvig Chawna Schroeder Mirtika Schultz James Somers Tsaba House Authors
Steve Trower Speculative Faith Daniel I. Weaver Dawn King Rebecca Grabill Jill Hart

Tuesday, April 17, 2007

The Influence of Karen Hancock



I first heard of Karen Hancock at my second writing conference. I was still pretty new to the world of writing and hadn’t even figured out what kind of stories I liked to write. But people invariably asked what was I writing, and I would try to describe it. The response I got was nearly unanimous: Have you read Arena yet?

The whole conference seemed buzzing about this new release by one Karen Hancock and apparently everyone but me had read it. Or that’s how it seemed at the time. So what choice did I have? I checked the book out from the library and read it.

I was disappointed.

The writing was good—must have been, for several images and most of the story have stuck with me to this day. But I got bogged down in the middle and though I finished the book, somehow it didn’t live up to the extravagant praise I’d heard. (My apologies to Ms. Hancock, if you’re reading this.)

Nonetheless, Arena introduced me to the realm of modern Christian science-fiction and fantasy, stories beyond Tolkien, Lewis, and L’Engle. It showed me that CSFF did exist, if you looked hard enough, and after that, look hard was exactly what I did.



I moved onto Kathy Tyer’s Firebird, books by Stephen Lawhead, and of course, The Legend of the Guardian-King by Karen Hancock (I can’t wait to get my hands on book four, which this tour is featuring, Return of the Guardian-King).

Thus partly because of Karen Hancock and Arena, I became the ardent proponent of the genre that I am today.

Feet on the ground, head in clouds,
Chawna Schroeder

Monday, April 16, 2007

What is the CSFF Blog Tour?

In short, it’s a conspiracy of professional liars to convince you, the reader, to buy our lies. That, however, isn’t as dubious as it sounds.

Sci-fi and fantasy is a wonderful genre, able to stretch our minds and spirits to a way that few genres do. However, as a Christians, we can have difficulty swallowing the secular works. So it’s natural to turn to the Christian market, right?

The problem is that finding CSFF (Christian science-fiction and fantasy) can be tricky. I personally didn’t even know such stuff even existed until about five years ago. So to help promote Christian sci-fi and fantasy, a group of bloggers who love those genres decided to talk about what’s out there three days a month. For example, this month features Karen Hancock and the final book in her Legends of the Guardian-King, Return of the Guardian-King. A great series, but I’ll be talking more about that in the next two days.

Of course, we bloggers hope to enjoy larger readerships, and the novelists among us hope it translates into more sales.

But what is in it for you? A few amusing interviews, some book giveaways, and lots of information on the CSFF on the market and whether it’s worth your money—all for free.

Now what can be better than free?

Feet on the ground, head in the clouds,
Chawna Schroeder

Check out some the other CSFF bloggers this month and leave a comment, especially on the blog of this month’s feature author, Karen Hancock:

Karen Hancock
Nissa Annakindt
Wayne Thomas Batson
Jim Black
Jackie Castle
Valerie Comer
Karri Compton
Frank Creed
CSFF Blog Tour
Gene Curtis
D. G. D. Davidson
Chris Deanne
Janey DeMeo
April Erwin
Kameron M. Franklin
Linda Gilmore
Beth Goddard
Marcus Goodyear
Andrea Graham
Katie Hart
Sherrie Hibbs
Sharon Hinck
Christopher Hopper
Heather R. Hunt
Becca Johnson
Jason Joyner
Karen
Tina Kulesa
Lost Genre Guild
Kevin Lucia
The Bookshelf Reviews 2.0 - The Compendium
Rachel Marks
Rebecca LuElla Miller
Shannon McNear
Caleb Newell
Nicole
Eve Nielsen
John W. Otte
Robin Parrish
Rachelle
Cheryl Russel
Hanna Sandvig
Mirtika Schultz
James Somers
Tsaba House Authors
Steve Trower
Speculative Faith
Daniel I. Weaver
Dawn King
Rebecca Grabill
Jill Hart

Thursday, April 12, 2007

The Bad Beginning



The Bad Beginning, Book one of A Series of Unfortunate Events, Chapter 1:

If you are interested in stories with happy endings, you would be better off reading some other book. In this book, not only is there no happy ending, there is no happy beginning and very few happy things in the middle. This is because not very many happy things happened in the lives of the three Baudelaire youngsters. Violet, Klaus, and Sunny Baudelaire were intelligent children, and they were charming, and resourceful, and had pleasant facial features, but they were extremely unlucky, and most everything that happened to them was rife with misfortune, misery, and despair. I’m sorry to tell you this, but that is how the story goes.

Orphaned by a fire, the three Baudelaire children must pit every resource they possess to keep safe themselves and their inheritance from a greedy relative.

The Writing: Mr. Lemony Snicket’s writing style struck me a quite unconventional, and within the 160-odd pages of this mid-grade book, he seems to break every writing rule I’ve ever been taught. He tells the story instead of showing what happens. He jumps into different character’s thoughts at whim. He even gives the ending on the first page.

But he pulls it off brilliantly, and I no longer wonder at this series’ immense popularity. The voice is engaging, minus his tendency to explain the words in the text. (I’m guessing this was intended to be humorous, but personally I found it annoying and condescending.) As for that “unhappy ending,” it is basically little more than the hook for the next book seamlessly attached to where most authors would end the story. This provides the addictive power of this story: Your innate sense of good, evil, and justice drives you on because, if you’re like me, you can’t believe evil really wins in the end.

The Story: I love a good underdog story, and this mid-grade tale has—and basically uses—those elements. The problem with the story, however, is the underlying worldview. The whole basis appears to be that the world is nothing but a bunch of coincidences, our lives are the product of chance, and good will never win, not really.

The result is a dark book riddled with deep cynicism. I don’t find that kind of dark humor funny, which might explain my bafflement at this book’s genre of humor.

In addition, I find it somewhat perturbing that all adults in the story are portrayed as either evil and clever or kind and stupid, with the exception of the children’s parents whom you never meet. While I fully understand that child protagonists must solve their own problems, does every adult have to be dim-witted or evil?

Summary: While A Series of Unfortunate Events strikes me as brilliantly written, I recoil from its dark and hopeless outlook on life. Therefore I strongly recommend that this series is avoided by mid-grade readers, unless—under very strict adult supervision—they wish to read one (repeat one) book for a clear portrait of the hopelessness of a man without Christ and for understanding what their peers are reading.

Rating: 2 stars of 5

Wednesday, April 11, 2007

When Characters Won't Behave

380-plus pages. I handwrote over 380 pages of the first draft of my new novel, went through a pack of paper, drained too many pens to count, and now my character decides to change her voice. On the last chapter, after everything has happened.

I didn’t think taking break would be such a big deal one chapter from the end. All I had left was to wrap up a few loose ends. I stood up. Got a drink of water. Walked around to work out some kinks. Then I sat down and started the last chapter, ready to be done with this long draft.

Two paragraphs later I realized my protagonist had taken over my story. Gone was “she did this and she did that.” Everything was now “I’m doing this and I will do that.” I tried to stop her and go back to the old style. No avail. My character tossed her head at my interference and charged ahead with the story she wanted written.

Okay, I knew my character had a rebellious streak soon after she walked into my mind. But mutiny?! Isn’t that going a little overboard?

But there was nothing I could do but going along for the ride. When my protagonist took over, the whole story came to life. She was fun and quirky with just a bit of attitude. She was going places—and she carried the story right along with her.

So what is an author to do when her characters won’t behave? I guess I swallow my pride and hold on tight.

Feet on the ground, head in the clouds,
Chawna Schroeder

Monday, April 9, 2007

What Makes a Good Story "Good"?

Stories are powerful. Stories have impact. Stories can influence—both for good and evil. But which stories influence for good and which ones influence for evil? What makes a “good story” good?

There is no easy answer. I wish there was. It would make my job as a writer easier. But created worlds seem to have a rebellious streak, unwilling to abide by normal rules.

Just like in the beginning.

We too live in a created world, and once upon a time, the Creator surveyed the creation and pronounced it “good.” So how did God define a good world? I think the answer is found in Genesis 2:9 (NIV): “And the LORD God made all kinds of trees grow out of the ground—trees that were pleasing to the eye and good for food.”

See the two principles? The trees of Eden were good because there were beautiful (pleasing to the eye) and nourishing (good for food).

The same can be applied to stories. The content and over-arching themes of a story can be very nourishing. They can stretch our minds and our hearts, challenge wrong attitudes, and promote healthy growth. They can push us toward God.

Stories can also be beautiful. While a story may not be pleasing to the physical eye, the images created in the mind’s eye can be. More than that, the language can sound beautiful to the ear and the story itself pleasing to the heart. This last one may seem less obvious. But have you ever read a story where the characters were flat, the plot uninteresting, and something just didn’t “feel” right, leaving you dissatisfied when you finished? More than likely that was due to poor craft: the story, not just the words, weren’t “pleasing.”

In short, a good story needs excellent craft and excellent content.

Feet on the ground, head in the clouds,
Chawna Schroeder

Next week: When craft and content collide

Friday, April 6, 2007

The Shadow and Night, Part II

The Power of the Night, Chapter 1 (Chapter 21 of The Shadow and Night):

It is like being at the prow of a ship, thought Merral Stefan D’Avanos, as he gazed southward out of the rain-drenched windows of the Planetary Affairs building at the sodden houses, roads, and parks of Isterrane below.

Beyond the high gray wall that protected the city from storm and earthquake waves, he could faintly make out the angry white breakers of the ocean’s edge.
A storm. How appropriate. A storm has been unleashed on this planet…And we must face what it brings. Do the others feel this?

[The ellipsis indicates omitted text to preserve the ending of the previous book.]

The Story: Disaster has hit Merral’s home planet, and to protect it he must engage in the unthinkable: war.

Building on part one of The Shadow and Night (The Shadow at Evening), Chris Walley’s futuristic novel continues to reveal evil in its many hideous—and oft overlooked—forms. In this latter part, even more than the first, I found myself blinking at the words I had just read and thinking, “That’s a manifestation of evil?!” And the end of this tale is a dramatic display of the God’s intolerance of the smallest sin…and the magnificent depths of his grace.

The Writing: The good writing of The Shadow at Evening is even better in The Power of the Night. He continues to use long description passages—a distraction in a few faster paced scenes—but many of the smaller problems have vanished, increasing my level of enjoyment.

Summary: I strongly recommend this second part to adults and young adults alike, even more than the first part. It is well worth the few hours it’ll take to read.

Rating: 4.5 stars of 5

Wednesday, April 4, 2007

The Blessing of Deadlines

It has been a rough few days in my household. The kind with more tension than a suspense novel.

I hate conflict. It makes me want to tie on running shoes and see how far I can go before I collapse. Or to play endless rounds of solitaire to deaden the pain. Or to simply curl up in bed with the covers over my head.

The problem is that I am a writer. It’s my job. I am supposed to write, even when I don’t want to. And the last three days I didn’t want to.

But I did. Had to, whether I liked it or not. Because in one week I have two deadlines for competitions I’m going to enter.

Like most writers, I don’t like deadlines. I avoid them. Strain against them. Even break them occasionally. Or I did, until today.

By having those unchangeable deadlines in place long before the events of the last few days, I could not wallow in despair. I had to sit down and write. In writing, I found comfort. Hope. Strength. A smile midst bleak events.

So today I learned that deadlines are not a curse, the bane of a writer’s existence. At least not all the time.

Sometimes they are blessing, a gift from God in troubled times.

Feet on the ground, head in the clouds,

Chawna Schroeder

Monday, April 2, 2007

Heart Health

Did you do your homework? Did you ask about the sermon and the TV show? I hope you did, and now I would enjoy hearing about your results! Why don’t you post a line or two and let me know about it?

Of course, after that exercise comes the big question: Story may be powerful--so what? What is the big deal about the way we remember stories?

Let me pose the question a different way: Why is it a big deal what we eat? What difference does it make if we drink eight glasses of water a day? Or six cans of pop? Or a cup of arsenic?

In the same way, stories are the diet of the mind and heart. The type we feed ourselves, while not fatal like arsenic to the body, helps determine the health of our hearts, which in turn results in our lifestyle. As Jesus put it, “Don’t you see that whatever enters the mouth goes into the stomach and then out of the body? But the things that come out of the mouth come from the heart, and these make a man ‘unclean.’ For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander.” (Matthew 15:17-19 NIV)

So what we read and watch does matter. A lot. Both fiction and nonfiction--although as I talked about in “Story Power,” fiction often has a longer lasting impact.

Some stories promote healthy living and energize our walk with Christ. Other stories, like pop, are treats and should be enjoyed sparingly--a constant diet will make us sluggish or even ill. Then there are arsenic stories that poison. And of course there’s everything in-between.

But reading stories about deception or adultery or magic doesn’t make us deceivers, adulterers, witches and wizards, does it?

No, it doesn’t. But neither will daily eating five of hamburgers kill you instantly—or even make you obese overnight. Just because a story doesn’t show immediate effects doesn’t mean it won’t have any effect, either.

Like the human body, which is able to filter out some poison or other unhealthy things, the heart can do the same. An occasional hamburger won’t hurt you much, and neither will the occasional “unhealthy” story.

It’s the constant diet that becomes dangerous. Many of the deadliest diseases and poisons store up in the body over time before killing. Stories likewise can build up, lying dormant in the mind, slowly infiltrating our hearts until they poison our actions. Remember, to commit adultery or murder you need only look at someone with lust or hatred (Matthew 5:21-22, 27-28 NIV).

So what difference does story make? It can alter your whole attitude or outlook on life—and therefore your lifestyle. Let us then choose what is good for our heart health.

Feet on the ground, head in the clouds,
Chawna Schroeder

Next week: What makes a story “healthy”?