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Redefining Romance

Posted on by Katie Ganshert

Sometimes, I get funny reactions when I tell people I write Christian romance. They look at me like I’m nuts. Like the two terms are completely contradictory. Christian romance? Isn’t that some sort of oxymoron?

This reaction makes me sad. Oh so very sad. Because God invented romance. Jesus Christ’s sacrificial love for His Bride is the most romantic tale of all time.

So how did we get here?

To this place where romance novels elicit images of bodice rippers and half-naked Fabios? To this place where Christian and romance don’t fit in the same sentence?

Let’s Talk: What images come to mind when you hear “romance novel”? What’s the best romance novel you’ve ever read? What made it so good? And for the love of all that is holy, are there really women out there who think Fabio is cute?

God and Symbolism

Posted on by Katie Ganshert

As a writer, I love me some good symbolism. I love writing it and I love reading it. And I love that we worship a God who created it.

Because when Jesus died on the cross, the veil was torn.

We hear that a lot. It’s become this cliche thing. Yada, yada, yada, Jesus died on the cross. Yada, yada, yada, the veil was torn. Yeah, yeah, we’ve heard it before.

But the veil was torn, people. Torn. Which has to be, 100%, the coolest symbol in the history of all symbols.

Because that veil was an incredibly thick curtain that barred the entrance into the Holy of Holies – a very special room in the tabernacle where God’s presence dwelt. A room that only the high priest could enter. Once a year, after meticulous preparation, to shed blood for the atonement of sin.

Everyday people like you and me? They couldn’t set foot into the Holy of Holies. They could not be in the presence of a holy God and live (Exodus 33:20). Which is why God established the old covenant. We needed a priest to be our middle man. And God needed blood to make us clean.

Until Jesus came. God in the flesh. He took the weight of our sin upon His shoulders and died on the cross. He shed His own blood, once and for all. The ultimate sacrifice. Our ultimate priest.

And the veil was torn wide open.

A new covenant was established.

The covenant of Jesus Christ.

A covenant that rips apart the barrier.

A covenant that gives everyday people like you and me open access to a holy God.

Talk about some amazing, amazing symbolism.

Let’s Talk: What symbolism have you come across lately? Or tell me about the coolest symbolism you’ve ever read in a book. Peace Like a River is filled with awesome symbolism!removetweetmeme

It’s Starting…

Posted on by Katie Ganshert

A few months before my wedding, I started having these dreams. And when I say dreams, I don’t mean the pleasant kind. I mean the kind where I slept in and couldn’t find my dress and frantically raced across town so I could walk down the aisle with pajamas and bedhead and bad breath. 

Yeah. Those kind. 
The sweat-inducing, anxiety-ridden dreams that had me thanking the good Lord as soon as I jolted awake.

Which is sort of odd, because in general, I’m a pretty laid back person. I’m not a stressball or a worry wart. Yet the dreams came. Almost as if some sort of latent anxiety unleashed itself the minute I hit my REM cycle. 
Well guess what?
Last week, I had my first official debut disaster dream in which my book received horrible reviews. Nobody liked it. Nobody. In fact, I was walking down this hallway and overheard one writing friend say to the other, “It definitely won’t win any awards.”
I remember feeling mortified and depressed all at the same time.
So when I woke up in bed, with my book still safely tucked away in the vault at my publishing house (they don’t really have a vault), relief overwhelmed me.
Followed closely by a bout of nerves. 
Because in a little over seven months, people are going to read my book. Real live people. And some of those people are going to write reviews that I will see. And what if those reviews aren’t any good? What if I get a one-star reaction? Or worse, what if I get a whole bunch of mediocre ones? 
Confession time.
I care way too much about what other people think. I seek approval. I like acceptance. I want to please. Which is something I have to surrender to God every single day. I do not want my self-worth to hinge upon people’s acceptance or rejection of my work.
I want to keep my eyes focused upward. Because at the end of the day, I can’t control how readers will respond. I can only do my very best with the gift God’s given me and let the rest go. 
Let’s Talk: How do you respond to reviews? Or how do you hope you’ll respond? And for fun, tell me about the worst anxiety dream you’ve ever had. I’m sure there’s some good ones out there!

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