Mo*Con III Recap of sorts

I'm a bit late, yes. So here's the recap for Mo*Con III Day One.

I have no photos. You'll have to visit other people for that (see links below.)

Here's how things have been lately. The first part of the monthe, we were dog/housesitting for a friend. Phil Checked in on our house to find 4 feet of water in the basement cellar and the a/c-furnace, water heater, and water softener ruined. Now we need to install back-up sump pump and seal cellar. However, we couldn't do that last weekend because I've had Mo*Con III on my calendar since the end of Mo*Con II. And Dark Harvest was releasing. So our wonderful friends offered up their guest room until we could get things under control and we haven't been to our home other than to check on things since the beginning of June.

Phil was supposed to get off a bit early on Friday the 13th, he had a chiropractor appointment and then the plan was to head to Indy. Except he got off late. And we almost missed the appointment. And we fought. Not to mention the fact that my thyroid meds had to be changed and I'm still terribly messed up in all ways. I think I've been prone to even more varied mood swings right now than normal. God help us when I go through menopause.

So we're fighting on the way down to Mo*Con and Phil pulls over at some rest area and hugs me, tells me he loves me, and assures me he is not going to dump me there until I get my shit straight. God has blessed this man, let me tell you.

And from what I've been reading, we're not the only ones who experienced problems on the way to Indy. Matt Cardin missed his flight when Mapquest took him to a non-existent airport. Gary Braunbeck and Lucy Snyder had storms of the rain variety. I think Doug Warrick had some snafu as well. Maybe more. We all seem to have a bit of the curse.

Finally, we get to The Dwelling Place and unload the massive amounts of food we prepared for the weekend. I said hi to some of my IHW peoples and introduced Phil, who had been to this point, my imaginary husband.They finally know he's real. First Sara and Bill Larson. Then Tiffany Proctor.

Sara and Maurice prepared wonderful Chicken Marsala for dinner. Poor Sara. I think she'll not want to eat chicken again for quite awhile. Click below to read her story.

Jerry Gordon and his beautiful wife, Jill, then came in with more beer than I've ever seen in a church. Okay, I've never seen beer in a church. And Phil's more than happy to take a cold Heineken (and I don't blame him) and I wanted wine. Phil, ever patient man that he is, finished a beer, rinsed his bottle out and poured me a wine.

We'd brought a box of white wine, but the box disintegrated in the cooler, so we had a bag. And y'know, it didn't look all that pleasant. Plus, I can't drink wine out of a regular glass. Or a Styrofoam cup. But the beer bottle worked.

Lucky for me, Phil has taken up smoking cigars on occasion and someone was sharing. I didn't have to go out into the heavy cottonwood air at all. I got to stay inside listening to my new favorite band, Mother Grove. I was disappointed, though, that no one danced. We had beer in a church, why not dance? However, by the end of the night, I danced. And the fiddle player, Laura, joined me. Thank God someone had it in them. I might not be the best dancer in the world, but I love to do it and I don't really care what people think.

To be continued...




Enjoy some other views of Mo*Con III

Maurice Broaddus
Maurice: Mo*Con III.2
Sara Larson
Jerry Gordon: The Search For Mo
Mark Rainey: Mo News is Good News
Jason Sizemore, Apex Publications: Mo*Con III No Country for Old Men
Matt Cardin
Kim Paffenroth
Lucy Snyder
Tiffany Proctor
Nick Mamatas
Doug Warrick

Writing Horror as a Christian

Heather posted On Writing as a Christian on her blog today as well as a discussion at Intersection called Bubble or Patron. This sparked my comment on her blog and since I've not talked much about it here, I thought I'd copy and paste it.

I can only speak for myself.

When I figured out God was telling me (and not so politely) to write; instinctively, I knew I had to write horror. Psychological horror is my bent, not the gore-fest mainstream horror has become.

It was interesting, to say the least, to watch expressions of those attending the ACFW (American Christian Fiction Writers) conference in 2006. When I said I wrote horror, they looked at me as if I had said I was a prostitute at 5th and Broadway. The little name tags they handed out had everyone's genre listed under they're name. They changed mine from horror to thriller. Nice.

There were two things that made me understand that wasn't the place for me. A very popular, well-respected agent telling a class (I'm paraphrasing) that Christian horror was a stupid idea and it would never work. (I shook his hand and told him we'd never work together. LOL) And the Holier-than-thou attitude most people had at that ACFW conference.

I tried, though. Because I thought maybe God was trying to convince me I needed to change. But I was depressed and my stories seemed fake. And forced. And the more I tried to manipulate the story to fit into the rulebox of the CBA (Christian Booksellers Association) the more I understood that it wasn't me they were forcing into the box, it was God. I prayed a lot about making the first step towards the ABA (American Booksellers Association) and when I did, God was right there to shower me with his love and acceptance and let me know, without a doubt, that I was doing what he wanted me to do.

I was working on a Bible study (the sheep one, H) and I read a book called A Shepherd Looks at the 23rd Psalm. It is such a simple book, but I had a paradigm shift while reading it. It may be that God meant for me to understand MY journey this way and it may not apply to others, but as I was reading about how a shepherd has to take his sheep through hard places, the dark valley. Usually people refer to this psalm when dealing with death, but I read that I walked THROUGH the valley. (and I understand the implications when dealing with death) but it applied to me, at that time in my life, to life not death.

Reading this book, having this shepherd explain to me that during movement of the flock to higher ground, going through the valley was a very intimate time, the sheep depended on the shepherd, the shepherd had gone the route beforehand and since a trust had already been established, the sheep trusted the shepherd and stayed close. The route through the valley is the most well-watered route. It is in the deep valley that you find the springs of crystal clear water.

Of course, I want that mountaintop experience with God. But what I really crave is the intimacy and refreshment of trusting him in those dark valleys.

And that's when I knew what he wanted from me. "Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou art with me" As I explore horror and all it represents, I will fear no evil. He is with me.

That's when I started believing that I should follow His rules instead of the rules of man (the CBA) So I've been writing the stories the way they come out. And since then, doors seem to be opening all over the place.

I'm not saying that this is what God has for everyone. But this is how I came to know and understand that the CBA was not for me.

I'm a Bad Blogger

Once again, I have neglected the ten or so people who stop by here regularly. I don't mean to neglect you. Really. So in honor of your dedication despite my disregard I'll post a week's worth of photos (and captions) so you know why I've not been here paying attention to you.

Forgive me?

I think I'll work backwards. Because I want to.

Sunday April 6.

We went for a walk down our road.
I found some creepy buildings in the woods.
I have story ideas.

The Shack of Many Colors

Click on the picture. Check out the shingles.
What are those little doors for below the window?
Who lived here?
Oh the stories I have blending in my brain.

This little shack was just steps from the Shack of Many Colors.
They should have put matching shingles on it.
I was afraid.
Oh I am so not lying.
I could not. Could NOT open the door of this shed.
It was cracked open when I got there. If you click on the picture,
you can see that there's something in there.
I was too afraid to look.
Yes.
Me.
Too afraid.

This hole in the ground was steps away from the Green Door shack.
This is probably what made me afraid to open the door.
Creepy side view of the Shack of Many Colors

Still on Sunday:
$153.00 worth of stuff at CVS and I spent only $1.46!!!!!!
(here's how)

Saturday April 5.
Chicago Street Theater's Encores Musical Gala. Look for us in
Lake Magazine--we had our photo taken. I'm excited to see if we'll be in there!

Duma Key by Stephen King

I'm reading it now.

I'm only 34 pages in and have already seen fit to journal some quotations about being an artist.

Like this one:

"Remember that the truth is in the details. No matter how you see the world or what style it imposes on your work as an artist, the truth is in the details. Of course, the devil's there too--everyone says so--but maybe truth and the devil are words for the same thing. It could be, you know."

Interesting.

Made me think of the Garden, the fall, the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, God shutting off the Garden of Eden so we wouldn't eat from the Tree of Life because he was afraid we'd do it and become immortal in that state and how he had a plan for redemption, so that we could share in eternal life, but good eternal life.

Also thinking about how people have "dumbed down" God and his word.

Rock-a-Doodle

Today's agenda

• Cook Spaghetti for the IHW retreat.
• Take Zane to 4H
• Listen to this clip from Rock-a-Doodle of Chanticleer (chant-ah-claire) singing Sun Do Shine three hundred eighty five more times. I was talking to a friend about how Chanticleer is my all time favoritest word. Like cotton candy melting in your mouth. And I remember how much I loved this movie (I was 19 when it came out) and I'm pretty sure I still know all the words. Then I found this at Wikipedia:

  "Upon its initial release, Rock-a-Doodle was not well received by critics or audiences, judging by its subsequent poor financial performance and contemporary name recognition (possibly due to the film's dark, worldly setting and frightening villain and his plot to eat the farm animals)."

Eloquent Remarks Concerning "Christian Horror"

Should it be called "Christian horror"? I don't really know. Horror is horror whether it has a Christian theme to it or not. It's not any less horrible when it has a spiritual thread. And maybe it's all Christian horror?

What I do know is when someone says something I've been trying to express in a much prettier way than I. Let me introduce you to David at Diary of an Arts Pastor, "A diary of ruminations and happenings of an arts pastor who never wanted to be a pastor and never thought he could be an artist."

He says in his Christianity Today article, "The horror story is not an escape from life, in all its wildness and terrible beauty; it is rather a way of walking through it, and as such a reminder that there is meaning, thanks be to God, in the middle of all the horror."

And on his blog, "The service that horror movies can provide is to rouse our deadened, hardened, consumer-addicted, self-indulgent hearts and force them to see, feel, taste, hear, and touch things that should cause us to be afraid, such as the consequences of our words and actions, our hubris and indifference, our dabbling with idolatry and our lusts for power, fame and money. In the face of the dark or unknown or future we should feel humility and a proper dependence upon God. In a sense we should fear, or revere, them as bigger than ourselves. But never should we fear them ultimately."

I'm thinking of approaching David for an interview. I love the way this guy expresses things that I can't. I know in my heart, but for some reason, it doesn't get from my heart out of my mouth with such grace. I can nod in agreement and continue the discussion, and I'm fine with that.

My hope is that I can add something to our culture with my participation in Coach's Midnight Diner. I want this to break the mold, shun the stereotype, and I want people to understand that when people like me, people who love Jesus--when we write horror it is not a disgrace to God but an offering.