The Stories Are True

I’m thinking of getting a tattoo. If I’m honest, I’ve sort of always been thinking of getting a tattoo; I’ve just never had an idea for words or symbols that I would want to mark myself permanently with. (Also, I’m horribly afraid of needles.) But, over the last few weeks, a phrase has emerged that I know I will need to be reminded of again and again over the course of my life.

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The Worst Christmas Songs

This will not come as a shock, but I love Advent and Christmas. It really is the perfect time of year for someone with a pensive, sappy, traditional, and slightly liturgical bent. This season is so much about moments. It’s really the only time of year the culture at large seems to be attune to most of the things that are especially important to me: relationships, contemplation, remembering, ambience, experience, food, and, of course, art.

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Harry Potter

January 6, 2013. That was the day I realized I had been wrong. So very, very wrong. How do I even begin?

Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone was released in the U.S. when I was in the sixth grade. Somehow I didn’t hear about it until much later, and by that time they were showing after-school-special type films about the series turning kids into Wiccans at my Christian school. After most of the Church grew out of that phase (thank the Lord), the books had become so stinking popular that my snobby side kicked in, and I couldn’t be bothered to read them.

I took a Young Adult Literature course during my junior year of college, and we were assigned to read—you guessed it—Sorcerer’s Stone. I won’t say I didn’t enjoy it, but I was underwhelmed. Plus, there were elements that bothered me, particularly the anti-muggle sentiment. Harry Potter’s did not seem to be a world that invited me to see my own world with new eyes (as good fantasy literature should do)—it only gave the feeling that normal life wasn’t good enough. So I left the series there, feeling totally justified in my snobbery.

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Positive, Encouraging, Kitsch

I have a love-hate relationship with “Christian” music. I put that word in annoying non-quoting quotes because I don’t actually think music can be Christian. In fact, I don’t like the term applied to anything but people. If we believe God created the world, and all truth comes from and points to Him, then it’s all His—Not just certain art or bookstores. But, I digress.

Alas, there is a genre of music labeled as Christian, with which, as I mentioned, I have a complicated relationship. Though I am in many ways a product of the 90s Evangelical subculture, I grew up in a home where we were virtually forbidden to like bad music (Thanks, Mom and Dad). So while I knew a lot of the most popular CCM tunes (“Big Big House” anyone?) from children’s church and carpooling to school, Point of Grace was not a thing in my life. Come middle school, I was way to cool for Plus One.

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Lonely Art

We read to know we’re not alone.

These words, uttered broodingly by a slacking and romantic Oxford undergraduate in Shadowlands, come to mind from time to time as I sit down with a new book, wondering just what it is that captivates me so. What calls me to turn the page, again and again? Why do any of us read? Why are you reading this now?

I’ve been blogging for just about eight months, and in that time I’ve written 47 posts (48 if you count this one). Some have been silly, others have been more crafted. Many have not turned out how I thought they would—the blank page turns out to be a rather surprising place. And yet, what has surprised me most has been the response from you, the reader.

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All Aboard the Downton Train

So, let’s be honest. My posts as of late have been, well, heavy. As if the weight of words and utter loneliness weren’t grave enough topics, I had to go and write about politics. I think we’re all about ready for a lighthearted interlude, and what better way to bring a smile than to write about everyone’s favorite melodrama: Downton Abbey.

I know, I know. I try to be lighthearted and the best I can come up with is a British period drama. Come on, though—it is a television show. That’s at least sort of shallow. I could’ve written about a Russian novel or the doctrine of Divine Providence, you know. Anyway….

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The Already

This morning I woke up before my alarm. Just a shaft of sunlight was coming through the window, and I remembered I had pumpkin oatmeal waiting for me in the crock pot. Instead of rolling over I actually got out of bed with a sense of peaceful anticipation. In a very abnormal sort of way, I was excited to be awake.

I made a cuppa, dished out some oatmeal, and headed toward my front porch. Already smiling at my clumsy, hands-full door-opening process, I fairly giggled when I saw the morning which met me. Chilly, bright — a morning made for Erin Hill. The air was the definition of fresh, the kind you feel you must breathe deeply. I snuggled up in my adirondack chair and warmed my hands on my mug, listening to the early birds. As I looked up at the reddening leaves of my tree, lines which frequent my thoughts in such moments rushed to my mind: “The world is charged with the grandeur of God. It will flame out, like shining from shook foil …”

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Allusion

Well, I can’t think of a better way to end Blog Wars 2012 than with a guest post from one of the more insightful people I’m honored to call “friend.” Kelcie brings both intelligence and warmth to any conversation, and her thoughts here on the beauty and complexity of being human are no exception. I will also add my hearty recommendation that you read Marilynne Robinson — one of several artists who have been added to my list of “favorites” after Kelcie’s endorsement.

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Allusion

Last week, I read Bram Stoker’s Dracula for an online class I’m taking with my friends Cory and Dustin (also known as “Dut” for reasons yet unknown to me). I tried to read it a couple summers ago, but I got so scared I could only read outside, in broad daylight, and finally I gave up all together. (I think I picked up The Shack instead … not my finest literary moment.) This time, though, I pushed through, even though I nearly bit my nails off. I mean, what would I tell Cory and Dut if I didn’t finish? They are boys, you know, and I didn’t want to come off like a frightened little girl.

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Allusion

Dear Adoring Readers,

First of all, I’d like to thank you for making my Hunger Games trilogy so wildly successful. I never would have dreamed my work would have achieved this level of popularity. Really. It’s kind of funny, actually. Anyway, I just want to say it means a lot, you reading my books and all. Especially when I’m competing with writers like Stephenie Meyer (one of the greats).

So listen, I’ve been getting these letters, and they sound really angry, asking lots of questions I don’t understand. It seems like some people have issues with Mockingjay, which doesn’t make much sense because it’s sold millions of copies and it’s going to be a MOVIE. Not all books are movie material, you know. But I guess some people don’t get that and they were like upset, so my editor helped me address some of their concerns.

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