Ahhhh!!!! WHAT???? Real Robin Jones Gunn Contest!

You can win a contest and be written into a Robin Jones Gunn book! PTL I follow this delightful woman on The Twitters. This is real life. And it is serious. And everyone should enter. Deadline is Wednesday, June 10th.

http://www.robingunn.com/contest/

We will cover the Christy Miller series, my children.

Echoes review coming your way tomorrow. Prepare your mortal souls.

Next Week: Echoes

Let R. Kelly carry you through until next week's post, my children…

In Echoes RJG will teach you how to find love through electronic mail, how to wear pleated khaki shorts, and who the "real Christians" are.

If that isn’t enough, head on over to The Toast and read Gabbin’ About God: Transubstantiation and the Lord’s Supper by Mallory Ortberg and Nicole Cliff for an excellent explanation of how the availability of spirits created a culture of grape juice based communion for Protestant Americans.

Finally, if you haven't already, check out our Whisper's inspired Evangelical Traumatic Flashback Corner and sexy interspecies fan-fiction!

Mazel Tov Cocktail: Evangelical Traumatic Flashback Corner

In which the Romines' sisters reminisce about the weird, complicated relationship evangelicals have with alcohol.

Angie's Story:

25 year-old, geriatric bride

For some strange reason, we had a lot of staged weddings at my Baptist K-12 school. Perhaps to prepare us to marry before we graduated college, for this is pleasing to the Lord. I remember being in history class and feeding my fake husband grapes to demonstrate how some ancient cultures used to subjugate women. (Because if there’s one thing junior high girls don’t understand these days, it’s how good they have it).

My most memorable fake wedding was the recreation of The Wedding of Cana in 7th grade Bible class with Mrs. P, who was also the choir director. She was my least favorite teacher in the history of time because she gave me my one and only detention for losing my pencil. (Thank God she was there to keep me on the straight-and-narrow). Also, she reveled in human misery, much like an evangelical Death Eater.

The Wedding of Cana was the site of Jesus’ first miracle—the turning of water into wine—and Mrs. P was going to take us on a journey back to the 1st century, when kids didn’t talk back or push dress code boundaries. Unfortunately, she had to conquer some cognitive dissonance to get there. She believed (like many Evangelicals) that the Bible—specifically the New Testament—should be taken literally, in its entirety. Thus, when John in his gospel says that Jesus took water drawn from a well and turned it into wine, then that is exactly what happened. However, Mrs. P (like many Evangelicals) did not “believe in” drinking.  To her, to my Baptist school, to my Wesleyan college, drinking was not something good Christians did. 

Unsafe and culturally inappropriate for Christian 7th graders

And yet here she found herself, standing in her calf-length plaid skirt, at the front of a room full of impressionable preteens waiting to hoist their classmates into the air on chairs (because that’s what you do at a Jewish wedding) and drink “wine.” Parent volunteers passed around grape juice in Dixie cups. First straight juice, then the refills became more and more diluted to simulate how party hosts in the Days of Yore used to water down their wine like a bunch of cheap jerks. By the time we got to seven parts water, one part juice, I was retching in my mouth. As we drank the juice, Mrs. P explained to us that this grape juice was more like the wine of Biblical times than the wine we’d see at the grocery store in the sinful aisle. She said in her slightly froggy voice, “Class, remember, the wine Jesus made at Cana was actually .05% alcohol. You couldn’t really get drunk off of it.” 

It's ICED COFFEE, Teri, gawd.

And just like that, it was all okay. Mrs. P could go on believing that the Bible said Jesus conjured wine and also that you weren’t supposed to drink wine because that’s what made her comfortable. I was taught some truly batshit things growing up, and Mrs. P’s erasure of Jesus’ alcohol consumption only scratches the surface. But at the same time, I can see how my teachers got there. I can see why they had to reframe logic to make all the pieces—Christian tradition, the tenets of Christianity, conservative culture—fit together even in direct contradiction. 

There is absolutely nothing wrong with choosing not to drink. Just because Jesus got his drank on doesn’t mean modern day Christians have to. Maybe you never really wanted to. Maybe alcoholism runs in your family. Maybe you don’t want to spend the money or the calories. All are legitimate, fine reasons. What are not-so-good reasons? “Because I’m a Christian,” or “Because the Bible says not to.” If you say you don’t drink because you are a Christian, you are implying that Christians who drink either aren’t really Christians or aren’t properly adhering to the tenets of their faith. If you say because the Bible says not to, well, you haven’t read the text very closely. 

I rebuke thee, Satan!

But what makes my eyes roll so hard that I worry about damaging my own brain is Christians like Teri (who is a pretty cool lady other than The Super-Judgment Par-tay she throws every damn day of her life). Love Interest Scott takes her out on his roommate’s stolen boat, The Moonfish (to be clear, the Bible does say you shouldn’t steal. Or traffic drugs inside of tamales) and offers her a raspberry wine cooler—the most innocent of drinks. Scott would have to shotgun a 24 pack of them to get a buzz, and it would most likely just be a sugar high. And yet, Teri all but launches herself off the boat to avoid the demon drink. Later after they hike to the center of a crater in the Hawaiian rainforest, Scott again, has the audacity to drink. One. Friggin’. Beer. [Elise: And I bet it was light beer] The judgment of Teri (and, by extension, RGJ) hangs thick in the air like one of my dog’s farts. The audience is supposed to be right alongside Teri, raising our eyebrows, wrinkling our noses, and crossing our arms. Instead, I’m mad at Teri. Don’t be that Christian, Teri. You can choose not to drink while not being The Rudeness to other people who might make a different, Biblically-sanctioned choice.

Christianity is a 2,000 year-old religion. The teachings of Jesus no longer stand alone but have been braided together with tradition and culture. A fabric has been woven using select passages of Scripture, traditions often grounded in patriarchy, and the Midwestern concept of goodness. Some people find it very, very difficult, maybe even impossible to unbraid the threads to discover what are the bedrock principles of their faith and what is just manmade scaffolding. In the end, as Christians we are told to love others without reservation or hesitation, and we are flat out commanded not to judge others. So Teri’s of the world, chill. Drink a Mai Tai or don’t. Nobody cares. Either way, wipe that smug, Judge-y McJudgerson look off your face before I do it for you. Ugh, I think I’m durnk. DON’T YOU JUDGE ME, TERI!!!! *tips over*

What.

Elise’s Story: 

Since Angie and I attended the same evangelical school grades K-12, I too, took part in a wedding reenactment three years after her story. But my story is one of even more darkness and pain. I was not playing the part of the bride. No...I was not even a wedding guest like Angie. I was a [redacted] SERVANT.

Finally the bride, laughing at my towel
draped bridesmaid/servants.

Now, Mrs. P had vast amounts of knowledge about ancient Middle Eastern culture, gleaned from her rigorous studies as a Choir major at Bible-Town University. She used her expertise to enforce an (I’m sure) entirely accurate, rigid caste system in which servants (me) had to cover their heads and were not allowed to make eye contact with wedding guests. Our “wedding guest” classmates were also encouraged to order around the “servants.” Again, this was definitely for historical realism and not because Mrs. P was a bitter hag of a woman who enjoyed humiliating middle schoolers. For me, once I got over the disappointment of not being “the bride,” I actually found a lot to love about my role as a “servant.” For one thing, I got to wear a giant t-shirt as a tunic (which completely hid my body, snap!) AND I got to cover my head with a towel. For a thirteen-year-old girl who had yet to “grow into her hair,” substituting my actual hair for a maroon bath towel from JC Penny’s felt like a significant improvement.

Dramatic reenactment of my hair
in middle school.

So anyway, I went to the wedding feeling pretty confident about my look, despite an unnamed family member calling the whole event “weird” and “offensive to Jewish culture.” Once I was at the wedding, I quickly realized that if I was a servant, not only was I excused from making eye contact, I literally didn’t have to speak to anyone which was, like, my lifelong dream. Looking back though, I feel pretty sorry for a kid who was so insecure, she could only relax when her social role was clearly defined, no matter how powerless and invisible she was made to feel. While there are so many things I appreciate about the culture I was raised in, remembering that feeling is not a fond memory. It brings back the memory of the weight of the enormous expectation to be right with God at all times, and how awful it felt to always be reminded that I was falling short. I remember being told about my role as a woman and thinking it was so small and so hard at the same time.  When I read Whispers, I think about how that kind of pressure could make anyone freak out when trying to decide if they should drink a wine cooler or not. Later, Ken Burns would tell me in a soothing drone that Mrs. P's views on alcohol came from the influence of the temperance movement on American Protestantism. The women who fought for Prohibition were in a way fighting for women's rights, since at the time if your husband got drunk, beat you and spent all your money, you couldn't do jack. I think that's what Ken said anyway, I fell asleep about 60 minutes into the documentary. Growing up though, we had none of that context. Cultural values were mixed with a rigid view of the Bible to create an environment where drinking wasn't allowed and girls couldn't play the drums (Mrs. P said drums were too heavy for girls to carry). Still, all in all I ended up having a pretty nice time at the wedding, standing in the corner with my tray of Dixie cups, adjusting my head towel, glaring at the bride, and starting to wonder if it was fair that I wasn't allowed to drink any grape juice.

WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS???!!!

WHALE OF A TIME: The Mark and Claire story

We enter an upscale restaurant in Hawaii at twilight. Teri and Scott are at a small corner table, angrily throwing breadsticks at each other’s faces and demanding escalating levels of commitment from their four week relationship.

“We have to adopt a special needs dog tomorrow!’ screams Scott, his face a furious shade of purple.

“No!” shrieks Teri, a blood vessel bursting in her eye. “I need us to invest all our money into starting a local homegoods store! We must be lovers AND business partners!”

Across the room, on the breezy open porch overlooking the ocean, Whale Scientist Mark pulls out a chair for the lovely Claire. This song begins to play softly in the background. Mark gazes over Claire’s ample figure and questions if he’s ever seen such beautiful woman. Her snout is lightly sprinkled with barnacles, and the soft glow of the fading Hawaii sun illuminates her pitch black, softball sized eyes. Claire shifts uncomfortably in her wicker chair, accustomed to being studied but unused to this kind of attention. Her 3.75 meter long flipper nervously plays with the hem of her Laura Ashley dress. She borrowed it from another girl in her pod and wasn’t quite sure if she could pull off this kind of outfit.

Next to the calm, quiet sound of the ocean, the silence between them becomes unbearable.

”Mark, I…” she begins just as Mark nervously stammers, “Claire, look...” They sheepishly laugh at their awkward beginning. Mark then gently pushes a strand of Claire’s auburn hair back behind her blowhole. “Claire,” he says gently, and then repeats her name, more firmly this time, “Claire…we’ve been colleagues for quite some time.”

Claire gives a soft smile, showing a brief glimmer a baleen. “Yes, Mark, we’ve worked together for over two years, and I’ve been happy to help you with your research.”

Mark suddenly slams his fist on the table, the silverware shifting with the force. “Dammit, Claire, but is that all you feel?! Happy to help? Happy for our relationship to stay the same, for us to be colleagues and nothing more?!” Claire gives a sharp gasp, the spray from her blowhole creating a fine mist that sparkles in the candlelit.

Claire then turns her gaze out to the open sea, thinking to herself that while she was used to a pressure of 1,640 feet below the ocean, that was nothing compared to what she was feeling now. Her voice drops to a whisper “Mark, it isn’t that simple.”

“Isn’t it Claire? Isn’t the the oldest story in the world? What could be more simple than love?”

Claire’s eyes flicker down to stare at her flukes as she speaks in a voice laced with pain, “But it’s different with you and me, Mark. People don’t understand us. They don’t WANT to understand us.”

Mark’s hand gently falls to the side of Claire’s flat U-shaped head and he slowly guides her eyes to meet his gaze. Mark’s voice catches as he whispers fervently, “All I understand is that the past two years studying you have been the happiest I have ever been. I met you under the ocean, but when I’m with you I feel like I can finally breathe.”

Claire raises her fin to press Mark’s hand more firmly against her cheek, she sighs at the way his warm skin feels against the vast bumpy surface of her ventral plates. “Mark,” she breathes out deeply. “Mark, you’ve been researching me for 24 months, don’t tell me you don't know my 1,000 lb heart.”

Now Mark closes his eyes as soft tears of happiness well to the surface. A slow smile spreads across his face as he breaths in the heady scent of krill. “Oh, Claire.” he sighs “Who knew that love was the greatest experiment of them all?”

Glenbrook Glitter GIFs!!!

I went to Appleseed Comic Con in Fort Wayne, IN this past weekend and got these amazing glitter doodles from Ginger Dee of chrisandgin.com. She was only charging $5 so Angie and I went a little cray-cray and requested a glitter doodle of every inside joke we could think of related to our blog. We got everything except the cocaine filled tamale Angie demanded, because Gin and I deemed a cocaine filled tamale kind of impossible to draw. Angie was enraged, but channeled her anger into her own artwork, as seen below. Anyway, enough words, bask in the glory that is GLITTER GIFS!

Natural Disaster: Branded

Dove bars are actually really good, so Jessica can stay

Foreshadowing the wicker-fest that is Sunsets

Angie drew her own cocaine filled tamale.

WHISPERS: Lady Boners Are Not Messages From God

Synopsis:

What even happens in this book?

Never Google image
"Sexy Whales"

Whispers embodies what I love most about the Glenbrook series, in that post-Secrets, every book focuses on a former B-plot. The name of this B-plot is Teri, the overly preachy, pastor’s daughter you hopefully remember as Jessica's friend from Secrets. In her own story, Teri has flown to Hawaii for a 5 week summer vacation to visit her older sister but also to rekindle the “fireworks” she felt last summer with Whale Scientist Mark. Sadly, as soon as she arrives, she realizes the fireworks are dead, and the only sparks Mark feels are for his whales. Teri calls a spade a spade, and tells Mark she deserves her own whale love. After kicking Mark to the curb, she spends the rest of the trip being courted by two dudes; Scott, the cool jock from her high school who is basically one notch above drifter, and Gordon, a jolly, Australian seminary student and pizza delivery guy, who is possibly suffering from a decade-old TBI. 

Scott's best quality:
Has friend with a boat

Teri OBVIOUSLY chooses sexy Scott and tries to attribute the fireworks in her pants as a sign of God’s will for their relationship. This, unsurprisingly, doesn't work, because sometimes a lady boner is just a lady boner. Teri eventually realizes that she and Scott are not on the same page regarding how important their relationship with God is to their lives. Unfortunately, this happens in a super awkward scene where Teri realizes Scott wants them to move in together before marriage and reacts loudly in a crowded restaurant...while Gordon is their waiter. Also, Mark and his whale girlfriend are there and see the whole thing D: Props to Teri though, as soon as she realizes a relationship won’t be able to give her what she needs, she is gone with a hair flip. Scott’s all like, “Teri, I’m super hot and I want you back” and she’s like, “I’m hot, too. Bye.” 

Like Nicki needs a caption.

After Scott, Teri realizes that God can speak in Whispers and not through pants-sparks-libido-fests and she decides that maybe God wants her to be with the guy who she enjoys spending time with...Gordon. It’s actually pretty darn sweet, and I was genuinely touched when they got to together at the end. Gordon was a really nice guy and Teri just deserves to be happy, okay?! I may have teared up when they reunited at the end. (Angie: I couldn’t stop mentally AWWWWWWing for the last ten pages or so). We were never supposed to feel anything; this blog has gotten out of hand.

Wait…wha???:

There is a lot of questionable behavior in Glenbrook. This is where we judge it all.

1.  Teri and Scott are Both Stage 37 Clingers: After non-exclusively dating Scott for less than five weeks, Teri assumes they are going to get married. Scott, understandably, thinks she crazy, but not before clarifying that he was only wanting her to move in with him, as if this too is somehow not insanely fast. Scott and Teri need an intervention about appropriate pacing of relationships. Also, on a semi-related note, how is the same lady who strong-armed her co-worker into Christianity, okay with a semi-Christian boyfriend?

2.  How Great Thou Art: Teri sings a joyous rendition of How Great Thou Art while hiking alone in Hawaii. This is ridiculous because everyone knows the only time to sing How Great Thou Art is when you’re crying on the bathroom floor of a Honky Tonk:

3. Teri’s Singlehood: Teri is a 26-year-old, unmarried woman, which is nigh on ancient in Evangelical culture. It’s astonishing that it took until she was 26 for her family to start blaming her for being single. In real life, she would have been given a subscription to eHarmony.com every Christmas after her 16th birthday.

Precious Moments: 

Our favorite quotes...

“He looked like a three-year-old in the middle of a tickle war.” [Elise: This is describing an object of sexual attraction...?]

“Suddenly, she realized she wanted pizza, and she wanted it now.” [Elise: evidence why Teri is the best]

“I saw you and Scott in the car just now and it concerned me.” [Angie: I, too, get concerned when I see two single people who are in their late 20’s kissing each other.]

“You’re not my mother, and you’re not the Holy Spirit.”

 Conspiracy Theories:

We tell you what's really going down in Glenbrook.

Elise: Jessica and Teri are actually frenemies. 

Totally genuine BFFs

“ Jessica noticed then that Teri’s thighs were large and not at all in proportion with the rest of her figure. She had hidden her thighs well over the last few days, but today the white slacks did nothing to camouflage them.” -Secrets

“‘Teri tells me you want to go to Mexico with us this weekend.’ Kyle said. Jessica was speechless” - Secrets

“Jessica noticed that Teri didn’t wear a drop of makeup, yet her skin was stunning” - Secrets

Teri: “I really care about you Jess, I don’t want you to go to hell” - Secrets

Teri thinking about Jessica: “She wasn’t a beautiful woman, but she was lovely, with a simple, gentle appearance.” -Whispers

Jessica responding to Teri’s question about “fireworks” in her relationship with Kyle: “Oh there are fireworks...That part of my marriage is between Kyle and me.” -Whispers

Teri, thinking about Jessica: “She wasn't much of a cook, having grown up with servants and chefs.” - Whispers

Angie:  Scott is an aspiring drug trafficker.

So Scott and Dan (Teri’s brother-in-law) have this idea to corporatize Teri’s tamales, a family specialty Teri makes on holidays or for her extra special love interest. At first, it seems as though Scott just has an entrepreneurial spirit and enjoys Mexican cuisine. But there are signs that something far more sinister is afoot. First, we have the Moonfish, Scott’s roommate’s boat which he commandeers all the time to woo Teri with the open ocean and raspberry wine coolers (which she indignantly refuses to drink). We find out later that the boat was, in fact, stolen. Next, Scott mentions he has spent extensive time in South America on “a dig.” That would make a lot of sense if Scott was an archaeologist, a paleontologist or some other –ologist that digs. He is not. He is a former high school football player-turned-bellhop. His interest in Teri is also a little suspect. By her own admission, Teri isn’t the conventionally attractive/Wonder Bread type that Scott dated in high school. Why is he so intent on moving in with her and investing in her business when it’s clear she’s not going to sleep with him any time soon? IT’S BECAUSE HE’S GOING TO STUFF TERI’S TAMALES WITH COCAINE AND RUN DRUGS ON THE MOONFISH. You know what masks the smell of coke so the drug dogs get confused and crave salsa? Teri’s Tamales. Teri’s Friggin’ Tamales.

Final Judgement:

Is it worth the $0.01 on Amazon?

There is actually so much to like about Whispers! First, the moral of this story was less creepy than Secrets. No one had to fundamentally change their belief system to end up together. Instead, Whispers focuses on how easy it is to obsess about a relationship you may not even enjoy, especially if your living in a culture that thinks being unmarried at 26 is bordering on spinsterdom. Teri and Gordon are also great characters. Teri’s bluntness from the first book seem less obnoxious in Whispers because instead of focusing her directness on converting a car-accident victim, she’s using it to call out lame dudes for being lame. Teri also calls douche-bag Scott on his high school racism which was surprising, but amazing to see in 90s Christian romance fiction. Gordon was joyful and goofy, and managed to be the patient love interest waiting on the sidelines without ever falling into "nice guy of OK Cupid" territory. Overall, I give it 4.5 out of 5 cocaine filled tamales!

COMING SOON: ECHOES! In Whispers, Teri's friend Lauren calls to let Teri know that her fiancee dumped her. Echoes follows Lauren's story...and the exact plot of You've Got Mail.

~Elise

...hey guyz...(whispers)

Whispers is almost here...

Come closer...

closer...

closer...

closer...

WHISPERS.

...next tuesday... (whispers)