Good Letters
This week I opened one of my favorite blogs and read that the writer had lost her husband. He flatlined at the gym during his morning workout. Just like that. I’ve been trying to write about something—anything—else all week. But my thoughts keep coming around to him, to her, to their two little boys. I’ve…
I can’t quite pin down why I can’t stand Pepsi’s new “Refresh Everything” ad campaign, which makes commercial use of the nation’s bad luck and blue mood by making happy, colorful signs with positive words on them. Every morning, I walk past buses with “JOY,” “TOGETHER,” and, most annoyingly, “OPTIMISMMM” emblazoned on their sides, like…
Over dinner two weeks ago, my cousin Rick used the word “orphan” to describe how he felt this past Christmas, the first since his dad, my uncle, died last August (my aunt had died in 2002). I nodded in agreement and sympathy—my mom died in 2000; my dad in 2005—but I wondered, too: Can a…
Two days after Obama’s inauguration, the crowds barely gone and the Mall barely cleared of trampled water bottles and blankets, the March for Life came to town. It was a Thursday and I headed to work early, looking forward to the post-inaugural respite of an empty metro train. Instead, the turnstiles and trains were crammed…
My latest musical obsession is Christian rock from the 1960s and 70s, a time before there was such a thing called Christian rock, and particularly attempts to re-interpret liturgical music in pop and rock forms. It is mostly bad, or at least weird, and while some of it is good, it has led to me…
My nineteen year-old son is a sophomore at a college a few hours drive from where I live. The campus is huge, spread across many tree-lined blocks. My wife and I both went to far smaller schools, and were surprised when our firstborn chose a university so large, but it has the programs he wanted…
NOTE: The following contains references that might be considered spoilers about the conclusion of the film Penelope. I can’t stop thinking about Christina Ricci’s nose. Let me explain. On a date last week, Anne and I watched a tricky little fairy tale called Penelope. The film made only a cameo appearance in theaters, then vanished…
[NOTE: Good Letters celebrates its one-year anniversary today. Please give a big virtual round of applause to the dozen writers who have donated their incredible gifts to making this blog possible. ] From a safe, comfortable distance, those with self-satisfied hearts often reproach the likes of Walt Kowalski, Clint Eastwood’s character in the sleeper hit…
I have been writing about the intersection of pop music and religion for as long as I can remember. As I teenager, I made four issues of a zine (never published outside an old Macintosh computer) called Toxic Chalk, which balanced my love of rocking out with a lot of complaining about Christian music. I’m…
Note: If you are an absolute newcomer to the current Battlestar Galactica TV series and think you might want to catch up, this post contains spoilers. I wonder if anyone has said that the Sci-Fi Channel’s timing was off when it decided to air the first episode of the last season (or rather, half-season) of…
Good Letters
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Joanna Penn Cooper
Brad Fruhauff
Burke Gerstenschlager
Caroline Langston
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Tania Runyan
Brian Volck
For the humanists of the Renaissance, literature mattered because it was concrete and experiential—it grounded ideas in people’s lives. Their name for this kind of writing was bonae litterae, a phrase we’ve borrowed as the title for our blog. Every week gifted writers offer personal essays that make fresh connections between the world of faith and the world of art. We also publish interviews with artists who inspire and challenge us.