It’s been about a year since the idea for Burgundy Sky nestled itself into my brain. I was putting the finishing touches on Winter and wondering if I’d ever write another story again. I woke up one morning after having the most vivid dream, complete with a plot and character names. I texted my best friend and she said “God has laid this story in your lap. You have to write this.”

Since that moment, I have struggled.

I am, above all else, a Christian, but I cannot present this book as a work of Christian fiction. I’ve wrestled with the content. I’ve tried to make it more palatable, to tidy it up and present it with an ivory ribbon. But I cannot escape the persistent ache to tell this story as it is, to allow my characters to be human, to struggle with lust, anger, selfishness, and pride.

I had to let them struggle and I had to let them fail.

This has not been an easy story to tell. There are parts that are autobiographical and parts that are not. It is my story but is also the story of countless other women. Looking inward and reflecting on my own experiences has been difficult and at times quite painful. Looking outward, my heart has been crushed by the weight of silence bore by those women around me and those who came before me.

It would be easier to leave those things in the shadows.

It would be easier to distance myself from inevitable controversy with vague metaphors.

It would be easier to hide behind modest, tasteful accounts of heinous acts with veiled language.

I have tried and I can’t. I must do the hard thing. I must pull these horrific things out of the darkness and name them:

Abuse. Rape. Abortion.

May we never be so comfortable with those words that we don’t recoil at the sight of them.

I can’t write about these things with cold detachment. I write about them as someone who has survived emotional and mental abuse, who has listened to the stories of rape survivors, and who has been faced with the choice of abortion. I’m not the girl with a picket sign who has never had to choose.

Throughout the process of writing Burgundy Sky, I’ve remained grateful for my decision to pursue writing as an independent author, because it does not fit into neat little categories and genres and subgenres. It is unique in that it can’t be classified as Christian because it breaks from the traditional expectations of Christian literature. My characters cuss, face sexual temptation, and sometimes choose violence. It’s also unique from secular works of fiction in that despite all this, Jesus is the invisible thread that holds it all together.

It’s unique, yes, but it’s nothing revolutionary.

I’m not so arrogant to believe I will ever write anything new that has never been written before. All I can do is take a very old story and tell it in a new way.

I tell my children often as we study art and fiction that creativity does not exist without the Creator. There is one story. His story. Everything ever created by human hand acknowledges Him. Even that which seems to defy Him, serves to show the depravity that exists in His absence.

When we invite the Creator to create through us, our art becomes an act of worship. Writing this book has been an act of worship. I won’t shy away from that. But I beg you, do not read this book expecting straightforward gospel. I am not a pastor or a theologian. I write romance because I love love.

This is just a love story. Yes, there is angst but there is also plenty of feet-kicking cuteness, snarky humor, and swoon-worthy moments.

Above all, there is hope. As it is in life, that hope is found in the middle of a mess. Also, as it is in life, it’s not always easy to see it. But once you find the Source of that hope, you’ll find it in everything.

In every word.

On every page.