As a librarian, I started hearing early about the death of the book. Why build library buildings when books will soon be obsolete and all our information digitized? In the early days, I think the proponents of this view imagined a shoebox of disks that would contain the knowledge of the ages. It didn’t seem to occur to them that someone would need to organize the quantity of files for research or house the equipment needed to access it.
It is impossible to read Red Ink, by Kathi Macias without praying for China. Yang Zhen-Li, imprisoned for telling children about Zhu Yesu (Jesus), is brutalized by a guard determined to prove her god is an illusion.
I remember one of my daughters asking in grade school, “If someone said they would kill me if I said I was a Christian, would it be OK to lie and say I wasn’t, but not to mean it?” In a small Minnesota town she wasn’t likely to ever face that choice, but many do every day—in Afghanistan, Sri Lanka, Columbia and many other places. This book brings us face to face with that reality and what we can do about it.
What makes historical fiction historical?
I recently finished reading From Dust and Ashes, set in the aftermath of World War II. It has the subtitle A Story of Liberation. Although American GIs liberate the Gusen concentration camp in the opening chapters, the liberation referred to is spiritual.
If I'm ever going to actually finish my book, I have to actually write. But there are all sorts of ways to put that off. Here are a few:
LeAnne Hardy has lived in six countries on four continents. Her books come out of her cross-cultural experiences and her passion to use story to convey spiritual truths in a form that will permeate lives.