For more than twenty years now, my brother, Andrew Peterson, has been baring his soul in his music, and in doing so he’s shined a light into the dark corners of the souls of others, mine included. But he’s no ordinary singer-songwriter, he’s a novelist as well, and his Wingfeather books are beloved far and wide; they’ve lighted up untold numbers of faces and hearts of their own, and in their own ways. But today marks the release of something different.Read More ›
It seems unreal that this is the tenth Hutchmoot (eleventh if you count HM UK!), but here we are. Some days it feels like things are a well-oiled machine and we know what we’re doing. Other days it feels like the first year and we’re sure we don’t have a clue. But if there’s one thing that’s constant, it’s this: we still can’t believe we get to have this much fun. And here’s what I mean:Read More ›
For those who aren’t familiar with Corrie ten Boom and her story, she and her family were watchmakers outside of Amsterdam. When Nazi Germany invaded, they spent two years hiding Jewish refugees in their home (saving some 800 people) until they were caught in 1944 and sent to various prisons and some, ultimately, to Ravensbrück concentration camp. After the war, Corrie would go on to travel the world and testify about her experience for the rest of her life.Read More ›
Since the earliest days of Rabbit Room Press, one of our dreams has been to issue beautiful editions of books by authors we love. And right at the top of that list of authors has always been George MacDonald.
C. S. Lewis said of his first encounter with MacDonald’s writing: “That night my imagination was, in a certain sense, baptized.” And Lewis would go on to read, reference, and credit MacDonald for the rest of his life. He considered him in some sense his mentor.Read More ›
Our first stop in Germany was to visit my brother- and sister-in-law in the small, industrial town of Hagen. We drove, we got lost, we got found, we ate, we visited, and then the next day we went to Cologne to see the famous cathedral there.
The black facade of the church is the largest in the world, and the building took a staggering eight hundred years to complete. This means that for nearly a millennium, architects and engineers and masons and laborers spent their lives in service of a final work they knew they would not live to see.Read More ›
I’ve been a fan of Jonny Jimison’s work for a long time. In fact, a few weeks ago when I sat down with the original Kickstarter version of Martin and Marco, I got a little teary-eyed when I got to the end and read through the list of backers, because it seemed like I knew every one of them, and most were part of the Rabbit Room community.Read More ›
When Jake Speck called me about this time last year and asked if I’d be interested in adapting Corrie ten Boom’s The Hiding Place for the stage, my response was “Heck yes! But hang on. Before I agree, let me go read the book and see if I like it.”
The truth was I had only the faintest idea of who Corrie was and honestly didn’t know if hers was the kind of story that would suit my abilities as a writer. I ordered the book and ate it up in a couple of days. World War II. Nazis. The Resistance. Smuggling of Jews. The Holocaust. Faith in the face of nigh-unquenchable darkness. I called Jake back and told him I was in, but I had little idea what I was getting into.Read More ›
One of the realities of writing a book is that you almost never understand your first chapter until you’ve written your last one. And invariably your first chapter ends up being the one you work on the most and the one that changes the most. That was certainly the case with The Fiddler’s Gun.Read More ›
Just a few blocks down the street is the Eagle and Child, home of the original Rabbit Room, and in every ancient nook and cranny of these old spires and streets and trees and pubs there’s a hint of old poetry or a remnant of a good story. Gerard Manley Hopkins said mass in the mornings and scratched out verse in these backrooms and garden walks. Dorothy Sayers plotted out her mysteries just around the corner. Professor Tolkien noted the prancing pony on the shingle of the White Horse over there. And Lewis walked ’round the water meadow one morning and dreamt of summer coming true.
All these years and tales and songs later, here we are.
The doors are open. Come on in. We’ve spent a lot of sweat and tears and prayer in putting the weekend together, and we can’t wait for you to join us. JJ is in the kitchen and supper smells fine. Let’s get busy. Convene the Hutchmoot.
As of today, The Fiddler’s Gun, Part I: Foundations is now available (that’s chapters 1-12). Over the next few weeks, I’ve got a couple of bonus episodes lined up, one featuring some deleted material, and one featuring a conversation with Shigé Clark in which we dive into a behind-the-scenes (behind-the-page?) discussion.Read More ›
Over the last few years, I’ve found myself in several situations where someone’s asked me a question about The Fiddler’s Gun or Fiddler’s Green and I legitimately couldn’t remember the story well enough to answer. If that sounds ridiculous to you, you’re not wrong—it sounds even more ridiculous to me.Read More ›
Last year about this time, Jennifer and I watched a movie called Risen about the aftermath of the Crucifixion. The film turned out to be mostly good (which is saying a lot considering Jesus literally takes off like a rocket ship during the ascension).
I have a difficult time watching film adaptations of biblical stories because when they come from a Christian production team, they tend to misunderstand the art of filmmaking and storytelling, and when they come from secular production teams, they tend to misunderstand Christianity. Rare is the film that lands in the middle. Risen, however, took a unique perspective on the Resurrection story and mostly succeeded. I considered it a win.
So why was Jennifer crying when it ended?Read More ›