I spent a number stressful days last week trying to write the last chapters of the next (and final) installment of the Fin’s Revolution tale: Fiddler’s Green. I’d put off those chapters for a long time because I needed to be patient and mull over Fin’s entire story and make sure that all the necessary events and emotions came together in just the right way.

After writing all day on Saturday, I laid awake until three or four in the morning with a whirl of descending character arcs and plot resolutions spinning through my head. When I woke at seven the next morning my brain still hadn’t stopped. So I got up, got dressed, shirked church and sat in the coffee shop writing. At about 3pm on Sunday, I wrote the final sentence of Fiddler’s Green.
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A few times during Hutchmoot I heard about books I wanted to track down but I didn’t have anything to write on. Now I can’t remember a single one. I’m sure I’m not the only one, so I thought it would be helpful to start a list here. Some of these are available in the Rabbit Room Store, so check there before you go gallivanting over to Amazon or somesuch to spend your hard-earned money. We’ll put it to better use than they will.

A few people asked me about the following:

Walking on Water, by Madeline L’Engle

The War of Art, by Steven Pressfield

Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott

I also referenced in my George MacDonald talk the book The Sacred Journey, by Frederick Buechner.

Anyone else?

Allen Levi, Ben May, and I stood on Wendell Berry’s front porch as nervous as schoolboys. Allen had prayed aloud as we pulled up to the little Kentucky farmhouse that God would keep the visit from descending into some goofy hero worship, and that we’d remember who we are, that somehow our visit would amount to a blessing to the Berrys even as it would be to us. Basically it was, “Dear God, don’t let us be dummies.”
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The Hutchmooters had the first shot at the newest round of Rabbit Room mugs but we ordered twice as many this time so we have plenty left over including two brand new styles and new colors all around.

Three old favorites are back and we’re happy to debut “The Dillard” and “Port William.” Get ‘em while they last.

“Port William” is a down to earth vessel molded out of the richest Kentucky loam. It’s best employed in the company of good friends and dear neighbors. It prefers a wooden porch to a concrete patio and a well-kept garden to a roaring supermarket. Care for it well and you’ll find it’s full of character. “Port William” comes in two varieties: Jayber (pictured -SOLD OUT) and Hannah.

“The Dillard” is a wide-eyed mug that is as likely to astonish you with its beauty and grace as it is to amaze you with its intimate knowledge of the mating rituals of insects. We like to think the whole world looks just a little different when you’ve got your Dillard close at hand and though we don’t advise sipping a frog from it, we do recommend sipping a latte. “The Dillard” comes in two varieties: Shadow Creek (SOLD OUT) and Painted with Roses (SOLD OUT).
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If you missed the chance to register and would like to come to Hutchmoot this weekend in Nashville, you’re in luck. We’ve had a few cancellations and after notifying the folks on the waiting list, we still have two spots open. Send an email to orders@rabbitroom.com if you are interested. First come, first served.

Also note that because the entire staff of the Rabbit Room store will be involved in Hutchmoot, shipping of all orders will be delayed until next week. We apologize for this inconvenience.

We’ve already got one post on the subject and I don’t want to beat the issue into the ground but I read this on My Friend Amy’s blog and I think it provides an important second perspective. It’s a simple, thoughtful letter to Anne that comes pretty close to the way I feel. Here’s an excerpt:

“I can understand wanting to disassociate but I feel like in so doing you lumped the rest of us together. Many of the reasons you cited for leaving I suspect I feel the same as you and it makes me sad that you’ve drawn a line and said “these are the things Christianity is.” I don’t believe that to be true and what is so beautiful and splendid about Christianity is that it’s an umbrella term for a group of people from all over the world who believe Jesus is God. That’s the tie that binds us together, the thread that pulls us close. We have many different theological ideas and beliefs, we practice and worship in a variety of ways, we speak different languages, and we experience life differently. Yes we argue. And yes we get things wrong and yes we need to learn how to give space to differing interpretations. But we’re a family, we share a heritage, and a common Father.”

Read the rest of the letter on her blog.

My friend Russell Moore (I guess you’re friends with someone once they’ve bought you a Johnny Cash t-shirt) had some great thoughts in response to the furor over Anne Rice’s comments about Christianity. You may remember our own A.S. Peterson wrote a review of her newest books, which aren’t about vampires but about Jesus. Here’s a bit of what Dr. Moore had to say:

“Yesterday the Internet was abuzz with news that Anne Rice has renounced Christianity. The best-selling vampire novelist, who professed faith in Christ several years ago and has since written several books about Jesus and her conversion, publicly quit Christianity on her Facebook page. There’s a real opportunity here that hinges on how we respond to this, or, rather, how we respond to her.

Anne said that she was leaving Christianity because she just couldn’t be “anti-gay, anti-feminist” and so forth. The response was immediate, especially on Christian forums and comments on blogs and on various other forms of media.

Anne Rice is, at best, our sister-in-Christ who is going through a dark night of the soul. She is, at the very least, someone who has encountered something of the light of Christ, is drawn to it, and is now “kicking against the goads.” In either case, she is not our enemy.”

Read the rest here.

To journey for the sake of saving our own lives is little by little to cease to live in any sense that really matters, even to ourselves, because it is only by journeying for the world’s sake – even when the world bores and sickens and scares you half to death – that little by little we start to come alive.

– The Sacred Journey, by Frederick Beuchner

Before Rainbow Dull I had a short lived blog on which I posted only a handful of times. This was about ten years ago, when blogging was just getting going. A couple of old college friends had emailed me links and invitations to their own blogs, so I read several entries and decided it might be something I could do – maybe a way to take all my daydreams and turn them into actual words.
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For the past few months I’ve spent time writing Fiddler’s Green nearly every day. I like to plant myself in the back corner of Pantera Bread (because it rocks), or my neighborhood Starbucks (where they know my name and give me free stuff), or the burrito shop down the road (chips and fruit tea all day long) and once I’ve settled in with something tasty to eat or drink or both, I crack open the Macbook and get to work. Some days it might be an hour, others it might be six or more. And there’s a lot of hand-wringing going on because now that The Fiddler’s Gun is in readers’ hands, expectations have been whetted for the next book and the conclusion has got to satisfy.

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This says it better than I’ve ever heard anyone say it. From Biblical Ethics:

The Bible does not deal with sin as a disease; it does not deal with the outcome of sin, it deals with the disposition of sin itself. The disposition of sin is what our Lord continually faced, and it is this disposition that the Atonement removes. Immediately our evangelism loses sight of this fundamental doctrine of the disposition of sin and deals only with external sins, it leaves itself open to ridicule. We have cheapened the doctrine of sin and made the Atonement a sort of moral “lavatory” in which men can come and wash themselves from sin, and then go and sin again and come back for another washing.
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I’ve spent the last ten years reading and writing about the American Revolution. Though I only ever had a passing interest in the time period before writing The Fiddler’s Gun, I’ve learned since that the world was a fascinating place in those days. The earth was still a mystery, still being explored and discovered. The ideals of the Enlightenment were remaking society in a very real way. The church was reeling in the wake of a man named Luther. The whims of Kings swayed nations. An ancient order of knights patrolled the Mediterranean. Barbary pirates held the trade routes of the entire world in ransom. And at the western edges of the map, a new country was stirring. What a time to live in. What a stage upon which to set a story.
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Congratulations to my little (but taller) brother, Andrew Peterson. The second book in his acclaimed Wingfeather Saga, North! Or Be Eaten, went into the ring tonight to contend for the 2010 Christy Award in Young Adult Fiction and emerged victorious.

The Christy Awards honor the best in Christian fiction in nine categories.

From the official announcement:

North! Or Be Eaten by Andrew Peterson

In Book Two of the WINGFEATHER SAGA, escape with Janner, Tink, and Leeli Igiby as they flee north, to the Ice Prairies, where they will be safe from the cruel Fangs of Dang. But first they have to survive the dangers along the way—and the dangers within themselves. Andrew Peterson delivers more breathtaking adventure in this tale for all ages.

Andrew Peterson is the author of Christy finalist On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness, Book One in the WINGFEATHER SAGA, and The Ballad of Matthew’s Begats. He’s also the critically-acclaimed singer-songwriter and recording artist of ten albums. He and his wife live with their two sons and one daughter near Nashville, Tennessee.

(Do I smell a nomination for Jonathan Rogers next year?)

From Screwtape: “The enchantment of unsatisfied desire produces results which the humans can be made to mistake for the results of charity. Avail yourself of the ambiguity in the word ‘Love’: let them think they have solved by Love problems they have in fact only waived or postponed under the influence of the enchantment….”

“The erotic enchantment produces a mutual complaisance in which each is really pleased to give in to the wishes of the other. They also know that the Enemy demands of them a degree of charity which, if attained, would result in similar actions. You must make them establish as a Law for their whole married life that degree of mutual self-sacrifice which is at present sprouting naturally out of the enchantment, but which, when the enchantment dies away, they will not have charity enough to enable them to perform. They will not see the trap, since they are under the double blindness of mistaking sexual excitement for charity and of thinking that the excitement will last.”
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There’s an aspect of writing that I often struggle with in which I find that my own style is reshaped by whatever or whomever I happen to be reading at the time. I’ll write a passage one day and when I peruse it the next I’ll discover that, like the skin of a chameleon, it’s taken on the rhythm, structure, or vocabulary of someone else.

For instance, I began writing The Fiddler’s Gun almost immediately after reading Frederick Buechner’s Godric and in the end I had to completely rewrite the first few chapters because they had the same archaic and often yoda-like sentence structure as Godric. It was fun to write but it certainly didn’t fit the tone of the book. It wasn’t really my writing–I was parroting, riffing off of a better author. I find that this sort of thing happens to me all the time and often wonder where the line is between influence and imitation.
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. . .because I’m about to post about the Twilight Series!

When you are finished gasping please note that no, I haven’t actually read them. No, I probably won’t. And no, I don’t have a hugely literary opinion upon them other than knowing that every person I know who has read them has nothing to say in their defense. My checkout girl at Whole Foods yesterday leaned across the counter and whispered the fact that she was reading them. Couldn’t admit it out loud. I even heard of one guy who put the book down three pages before the end because he just didn’t care. Can you imagine? What I am going to say about these infamous books is that gazillions of girls (and grown women) are a bit gaga over them, and it is this phenomenon upon which I will opine.
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Update: SOLD OUT. Sorry folks. We’ll have some more in a couple of months.

Once again, we’re happy to announce some new arrivals to the Rabbit Room. Say hello to “Walt” and “Frederick” as well as some new varieties of old favorites “Old Jack” and “The Professor”.

The mugs are each turned individually by the folks at Sunset Hill Stoneware and feature a new and improved Rabbit Room logo. Due to issues of the last batch being delivered broken or, in some cases, never delivered at all, we’ve had to raise the price a bit so that we can afford to insure each shipment. Rest assured, we aren’t gouging prices, we’re just trying to stay in business and, as those who bought the previous mugs can attest, these are some pretty serious pieces of pottery. Not at all your run of the mill Starbucks mug.

Without further ado, meet the newest mugs:
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Douglas Kaine McKelvey and I managed to live in the same city for more than a decade before we met. He was hired by my record label to write a new publicity bio and I met him at a coffee shop a few weeks ago to talk about my new album. We got the required interview stuff out of the way and spent an hour talking books, writing, songwriting, and illustration. I left the meeting with the feeling that I had just made a new friend. Doug has written a lot of songs and a few books, teaches creative writing to a group of high school students, and has a killer beard. We’re glad to have him. –The Proprietor

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The late Walker Percy had a habit of abruptly ending novels just shy of the moment when a protagonist might be expected to finally embrace some sort of redemption. Doubtless that persistent hesitation to describe the actual crossing of the threshold of the holy was what Percy had in mind when he asserted in one of his essays: When it comes to grace, I get writer’s block.

Maybe he was on to something. When I consider our collective history of attempts to translate the infinite mystery and wonder into a few descriptive phrases of prose or song lyric, there’s an admittedly high cringe factor. Somehow, it just doesn’t seem to come off—at least not when you approach it directly. It’s like trying to pluck a magic tail feather from a phoenix. Apparently, you’ve got to be very wily, vigilant and patient and sneak up on the thing from an odd angle. If it sees you coming, it’ll instantly disappear and leave you grasping at empty air.
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It’s been a real joy to see how people have embraced the Hutchmoot. I look forward to meeting you folks and joining faces with familiar names. (Joining faces? That sounds really weird but I refuse to edit it.)

Over the last couple of days there have been quite a few questions raised and I’m going to do my best to give the answers. If you’ve got other questions shambling around in your brain that this post doesn’t cover, post them in the comments and I’ll be happy to answer .
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Don Chaffer, of the most excellent band Waterdeep, is one of my favorite people, and not just because he’s my neighbor. Well, he lives a few miles away, but we’re in the country so it feels like he’s in hollerin’ distance. He blogs over at the Waterdeep site, and after I read this piece I rode my virtual sorrel mare down through the vale to seek Don’s blessing on posting it in the Rabbit Room. He obliged with a wave of his straw hat and went back to tilling. –The Proprietor

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“We believe in one Lord, Jesus Christ,

the only Son of God,

eternally begotten of the Father,

God from God, Light from Light,

true God from true God,

begotten, not made,

of one Being with the Father.

Through him all things were made.”

-The Nicene Creed

When the heat pump crapped out at our new house, I started researching heating systems. Turns out that one of the big things you have to pay attention to is what they call an efficiency rating. The efficiency rating measures how much energy you’re putting into the heater against how much energy you’re getting out of it. Heads up, it’s never 100%. You always lose some energy.
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Listening to Walter Brueggemann, it is impossible not to feel a sense of history. At 76 years old, as arguably the preeminent Old Testament scholar of our day, Brueggemann has written more than 58 books, many about the prophets of old. To hear him talk is to become convinced that you’re listening to one of those prophets, someone delivering a message directly from God. At a recent conference at Truett Seminary in Waco, TX, where the topic was prophetic preaching, I sat under his teaching for two days with a sense of reverence and gratefulness for the opportunity, and a growing understanding that what I was hearing would shape the way I approached the scriptures in future readings.

My first introduction to the work of Dr. Walter Brueggemann was back in 2003, with the release of a collection of his prayers, Awed to Heaven, Rooted in Earth. I was helping out with Michael Card’s radio program at the time, and Mike had bought a stack to give copies to his friends that were coming by to do interviews for the program, friends like Sara Groves and Steve Green. After flipping through a copy, I immediately ordered one for myself, along with several copies to give away. I have since used it in various studies I’ve been a part of over the years where something different is needed to start us off, and am always moved by his words, always find a glimpse of the kind of person I want to be in the space between his words.
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