Big Finish

“Welcome to Wonderblog!”

Those are the words I typed 13 years ago to launch this enterprise. I had just finished my coursework to graduate from college and I wanted to use my own voice.

So I started this blog.

Took me twelve years to get that little diploma piece of paper. After I spent years of night classes, balancing life, a job and the money, I finished the bingo card of required credits and got to wear the hat.

And I thought, That’s the end of the paved path. From here on out, it’s me in the jungle making my own way with a machete.

Off-roading. Scary. That’s the way of wonder and the way of art.

A year later, I started working on what has become The Russian American School of Tomorrow.

It is finished.

I did not expect it to take this long, to be so hard, or to turn out so beautifully.

We are looking down the barrel of this week’s holiday. Sunday is the glorious celebration of the resurrection, but before that comes Friday, the death, and the reference of my quote above: “It is finished.”

Living through the events of the story described in my book almost killed me the first time. Then writing them ground me up and spit me out in little pieces.

But it is finished. My story of escaping from spiritual abuse to the land of horrific political repression and finding my own way to happiness is now available. Here is an excerpt:

I still didn’t trust preachers. I wanted to read the Bible, but I knew the whole thing had been explained to me and explained wrong. What was God really saying? How could I see through the mask of lies that covered these pages for me?

I picked up the Bible my parents had bought me a few Christmases ago. Some Bibles were red-letter editions, printing the direct word of God and Jesus in red ink. “Let there be light” in Genesis was written in red. “It is finished” in the gospels, when Jesus died on the cross, was also red.

If I only read the red, just the words that God himself had spoken, maybe I could trust those to uncover the truth.

I wished the truth were not so hard to get to. I trusted the Bible, but I didn’t trust what my upbringing had made of my reading skills. There were four books, the gospel stories of the life of Jesus. I would read those and see what they actually said.

 

Go read what the rest of the book actually says. I long for you to know the story and to hear what you think after reading.

I am so grateful for you, my wonder readers. May your machete path be as magnificent and wonderful as I know it will be. Thank you for being part of mine.