You asked me if I believe. I’m not sure after all my sister and I have endured. What made You stay so far away from Your friend and us in our dismay? Yet one truth I know despite the pain: I know my brother will rise again.
Story Embers
Story Embers was run by a group of Christian writers and editors who were committed to glorifying God with excellent craftsmanship. We accepted article, poetry, and short story submissions from a number of Christian storytellers around the world. You can peruse posts from contributing audience members below.
6 Tips for Writing Grief Realistically
“The hero sobbed piteously over the corpse of her mentor, swearing to avenge him. After an hour of weeping, she wiped her eyes and returned to saving the world, setting her sadness aside until needed again at his gravesite.” One of my biggest complaints with fiction is how writers handle grief. While slightly exaggerated, the scene I’ve just described is similar to ones I’ve read in many published books. Grief is often treated in a farcical and clichéd manner as if it isn’t a struggle.
Snow Glass
The sunlit world is all aglow while shafts of golden brightness find the dust of diamonds on the snow. But darker seem the lines of shade—long lines of shadow on my mind. The peace seems ruffled by my tread, the sunlight turned to bitter glare: ablaze the snow, yet cold and dead, the shining diamond dust is dulled with tarnishes of twisted care.
Love Is
Love begins and never ends. Love is, with justice never distant, raveled and unraveled, here, everywhere. No departed utterance, it endures beyond sounds…
Cliff Top
I never meant to bring you along to this cliff, but still, here we sit, watching the tide roll in. The sun sets in the vast emptiness, and I wonder if you know this isn’t a detour, rather, the journey. I fretted over this future a while ago; I almost didn’t accept in hopes you wouldn’t know that this is the place it was all going to lead up to. I hope that someday when you look back on it all, you don’t convince yourself I misled you all the way here.
A Writer’s Guide to Crafting Realistic Survival Scenes
Learning how to portray characters braving the wilderness is far more applicable than writers assume. Though it’s habitually associated with the survival niche, you don’t need to be writing a Hatchet style novel to benefit from understanding the tactics that save people when they’re fighting the elements. In historical fiction, your protagonist may flee into the woods to escape a political enemy. In speculative fiction, he may cross a desert in search of an old friend, or perhaps he gets marooned on an uninhabited planet after an intergalactic war. Whether the savage landscape is the world of your novel or merely occupies a chapter, training your imagination to picture it accurately is important.
Should Christians Write Fantasy That Contains Pagan Mythology?
You can’t avoid running into mythology, not when it plays a role in so many beloved stories—a few of which are probably on your favorites list. But does your faith give you a reason to feel guilty for enjoying or creating that kind of entertainment? Can writers who believe in the one true God justify the depiction of multiple deities, magical creatures, and mystical rituals? Or will those elements mock Him?
A Missionary’s Lament
Stories from all over the world hold that wayfarers, especially sailors, often got tattoos of swallows. It was, after all, the swooping swallows against the blue sky they would see well before they could see familiar shores. Swallows meant they were home. When I got my first tattoo, I already had a foot in Costa Rica and Georgia. I was coming to terms with the hard truth that having made a home in two countries meant I’d never “come home” without leaving another.
Rain
After the longest dry season, you pour yourself into the cracks in the clay and your overflowing, lasting long after the clouds have passed us by, is the color green. Hope, after so many days wondering when you might arrive, that the days of the hunger season are numbered. That tomorrow I will not ache from sowing in dry ground.
Prayer for the Artist
Sister, I see your arms are trembling. Brother, I see your tears, your stone-set face, how this fire rattling in your bones, shut up no longer, has burned you in the telling.




















