June 2021
Volume 3 | Issue 3
Dear Reader,
Every now and then, God’s promises leap off the page of Scripture, his faithfulness in ages past a reminder of his promises to us, too. So many of God’s declarations to restore Israel mirror the ways he is working in my own life. Time and again, I take comfort in words from Jeremiah 31: “Keep your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears, for there is a reward for your work. . . . There is hope for your future.”
For me, as for you, that work is often the work of an artist, serving and tending God’s garden, bringing order out of chaos, as our guest writer Emily Nelsen reminds us in “Making Something Out of Something.”
We also “seek the welfare of the city” where we are in exile, praying “to the Lord on its behalf, for in its welfare you will find welfare” (Jer. 29:7). For artists, this task includes seeking the welfare of other artists as we collaborate and sharpen one another’s ideas, as Callie Johnson explains in “The Story of Us.”
And just as important for human flourishing, we pursue the creative work of “Creating Something Out of Nothing,” of imagining what could be, shaping that something with our hands and hearts through storytelling or any other medium, and drawing others to discover its hidden secrets.
This issue explores the creative work of repurposing, the spiritual art of collaboration, and the illusive craft of spinning tales.
We pray it gives you courage for your work and tools to tend the garden.
Creating Something out of Nothing
by Kelli Sallman
Magicians would have us believe they can pull objects out of thin air. We know better. But in story, good authors do create something out of nothing, and we delight in their sleight of hand. They draw us into imaginary worlds and introduce us to new friends and foes that endure in our experienced memories as tangibly as if we had walked in their shoes.
What makes this mimicry of God’s creative powers succeed? How do writers become better con-artists and perfect our storytelling hustle? Good storytelling is a kind of three-card monte that reveals character, setting, and conflict at any given moment without exposing the fancy fingerwork behind the scenes.
The Game David Played
The biblical writers knew this artistic game. Before I walk you through a longer example for how to launch a believable story, let’s look at the components of the con in short form—in one biblical verse, 2 Samuel 11:1. In the shocking story of David and Bathsheba, the author gives us a glimpse of all three cards: setting, character, and conflict.
In the spring of the year, the time when kings go out to battle, David sent Joab, and his servants with him, and all Israel. And they ravaged the Ammonites and besieged Rabbah. But David remained at Jerusalem. (11:1)
In three sentences (two sentences in Hebrew and some translations), we learn that spring has come to Israel during David’s reign (setting); that in this culture, kings lead the nation’s army on the battlefield (setting); that this king has enough political power to send a general, all the general’s staff, and all the warriors of Israel to battle (character); and that this year, this king decides to stay home (character/conflict). These scant but expertly handled details spark the reader’s imagination, spin us into the story world, and spur on the cataclysmic events of one of the world’s most well-known stories.
Now that we see how the game works from reader’s point of view, let’s examine the storytelling con from the perspective of the writer.
The Story of Us
Navigating Artistic Relationships
by Callie Johnson
Earlier this month, I attended PENCON, a conference for Christian editors, and was struck by a recurring theme in many of the attendees’ questions: How do I tell new authors that the books they’ve poured their hearts into are not very good? How should a developmental editor interact with the copyeditors and proofreaders as the book goes down the production line? How do authors work with a publisher’s expectations but still maintain their own visions? Again and again, their questions centered on the horrible, wonderful, tricky business of artistic relationships.
Work relationships are hard enough, but when you add in art—where the identity of artist and artifact often merge—we struggle to know where to start. The speakers at PENCON gave sage advice, reminding me of other wisdom I’ve heard along the way. Healthy artistic relationships require us to know ourselves, respect one another’s agenda, and trust each other’s intuition.
Making Something Out of Something
by Emily Nelsen
It’s long been observed that art is underappreciated. As an artist selling her work, I can tell you firsthand that this is true. Thousands of people have seen my work in many different venues over the years. I’ve lost count of the people who say my work is overpriced, or who intend to take a picture and make it themselves at home. Many think I’m wasting my time or resources on something frivolous, while others might think my work is lovely, but just not worth the cost. I do have amazing family and friends standing behind me and cheering me on, but the naysayers cause me to take a step back and reflect on why I do what I do.
Order from Disorder
I work mostly with wood. Walking into a hardware store and breathing in the earthy smell of wood stirs my creativity. My garage is usually full of wood, saws, and discarded treasures found at the side of the road (now covered in a thin layer of sawdust). My favorite place to be is in my garage working on new projects (and also covered in sawdust). It’s here that I can push the doubt aside and remember that part of God’s task for humanity is to continue his work of creating:
An Interrupted Elliptical Romance.