Why I Write Christian Fantasy


When I first began writing, I wasn’t a Christian. I grew up in a non-Christian home where books lined the walls in a place where winters encourage indoor activities. I made up stories when I was little (some people might call them lies, but Mom said they were very imaginative). I first put pen to paper as a 12-year–old for a school assignment. I hated the process, but something kicked loose and I’ve been writing ever since.

Not a lot of my writing from that era has survived, but enough for me to know that I did not write Christian anything as a high school student. And even after I became a Christian, I didn’t immediately care that what I wrote had a Christian worldview.

That came later as the overflow of this new fountain in my life. It wasn’t deliberate. My characters just slowly began to be Christians —…

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Author Interview with Bill Leviathan


Today, I’m visiting with Bill Leviathan, the author of Set Me Alight, a conspiracy thriller.  Tell us a little about yourself, Bill.

I’m a twenty something kid who thinks a little too highly of himself, trying to see if there’s any room for me in the crowded world of fiction writing. I write what makes me happy, and pray it won’t cause too much pain to anyone willing to read it.

Set Me Alight occurs in a dystopian world where the U.S. economy has collapsed. Work is scarce and the protagonist Pete travels west to fight forest fires, only to find himself embroiled in the politics of a mining town. Where did you get your inspiration for each angle of the story?”

I have a friend who until recently was bumming around the country, moving from place to place working crap jobs. A few of my other friends and myself…

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Interview with Olga Stefan


It’s Writer Wednesday when I intend to focus more on my fiction or on the writing of others.  In trying to find willing subjects for interviews, I asked for volunteers on Authonomy, Harper Collins slush pile site that allows writers to post their books and gain feedback from other writers as well as practice marketing in a friendly and competitive environment. Several of my fellow Authonomites have self-published their books and the next several interviews will be from that resource. Lela

Today, I’m visiting with Olga Stefan, author of The Deadly Caress, a murder mystery thriller.

PictureTell us about yourself, Olga.

I live in Sydney, Australia where my husband and I owned a busy pharmacy until recently. I’ve been writing for 10+ years and the sale of our business has allowed me to concentrate more fully on my writing.

Tell me a little bit about The Deadly Caress.


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The Center of Her Thoughts

Jane Bwye

Last week I visited story-teller Lela Markham in her home in Alaska, and today she’s returning the favour. We’ll be exchanging more visits in the future, but first, I have some questions to ask her.


Lela Markham on Moose Creek, off the Steese Highway, in Alaska. The pipe behind her is part of the Davidson Ditch, an aquaduct system built to provide water to the gold dredges near Fairbanks Alaska.

Lela – thank you so much for having me last week, and letting me ramble on. Now it’s my turn! I only know you through your writings. Would you care to provide a more complete picture of yourself – your home, family, what you do for a living?

Lela Markham is the pen name of an Alaskan writer and blogger, born and raised in and around Fairbanks, but her family has lived in various parts of Alaska since…

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Pinpricks of Ecstasy

Dear Lela,
Here’s my reply to your piece about the aurora. I’m sorry I dont have any photos of African sunsets. I refused to take any, preferring just to stand in awe while they lasted.



Pinpricks of Ecstasy

Lela – I am uplifted by your fascinating account of aurora-watching for my blog and am inspired to tell you of what the heavens mean to me.
From as early as I can remember, I have been entranced by the sky. I seldom get up early enough to see the sun rise, but when I do, I pause to watch the translucent colours dissolve into vapours with the warmth of day.
My enthralment with the setting of the sun is an intense, almost anguished thrill which strikes my heart as I witness the glory of the red, orange and purple hues changing with every moment. Dusky clouds billow and curl, striking through that glorious orb with dense black lines; golden bars of light touch the ground; then the sun sinks beneath the curve of the earth leaving an after-glow, which, in Africa, is gone in a flash.
My family never failed to sigh with fake tolerance when I indicated the evening skies through the car window on drives home from school.
“Look at that sky,” I would exclaim. “Isn’t it just wonderful?”
“Awww – Mum,” they said. “You’re at it again.” Then, with a nervous tremble, “Keep your eyes on the road, Mum!”
I used to love doing jigsaw puzzles, but would ponder at the sheer ordinariness of those skies – bland, wishy-washy shades of blue and faint apricot with boring pieces all the same, impossible to fit in. On coming to live in the UK with its insidious pollution, I understood the reason why it was so. But I grew to appreciate the muted drama of the skies here, too, although the evening light lingers in these latitudes and dusk fades imperceptibly into darkness.
That thrilling, tingling feeling of ecstasy triggered by the beauty of African skies was missing. Why?
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. When that eye is filled with love, happiness and gratitude it is indeed a thrilling experience.
I did not want to leave Kenya; my heart was dull and no longer did I feel the beauty around me. Something was missing. Was it age that was stemming life’s infinite variety? I didn’t feel old.
It took me several years to settle here, to look around and realise that ours is the same wonderful firmament that envelopes the whole world – not just Africa. And there are other opportunities here, not available in Africa; the theatre, opera, concerts, societies of every conceivable kind. I still hanker after Kenya, where the birds show themselves off with panache instead of playing hide and seek behind leaves and branches. But the endless rolling downs catch my breath.
In time, I sense those little pin-pricks of ecstasy stabbing at my heart again. And I celebrate. I’m not too old! I just need to turn away from myself, embrace the heavens and rejoice in life and love, wherever I am.
You can read about Jane’s book BREATH OF AFRICA, listen to the trailer, and sample some reviews on her website: http://janebwye.com/breath-of-africa