Excerpts from the World's Worst Christian Romance Novel

NOTE: While I enjoy reading to Janalee from the Christian romance novels she loves, even the best authors in this genre occasionally set my teeth on edge with some of their plot devices and over-used phrases. Everything in this little satire is based on stuff actually found in some contemporary Christian fiction, exaggerated only to a small degree.


EXCERPT ONE:


"...And Lord, be with my missing sister Deborah, wherever she's been since that cult of Satanists kidnapped her. Help her to be full of joyful gratitude for all the tortures and ritual abuse she is enduring; and may she never be so unloving as to give an implied rebuke to her captors by trying to escape. Amen."

Finishing his prayer, Tom Woolywit, a broad-shouldered athlete six feet seven inches tall, remained sitting on the park bench. Turning his movie-star-handsome face toward the sky, he remembered what else he had had in mind, and opened his Bible. Following the impulse he had been feeling for days, he found a certain chapter; then, opening the compact scissors on his Swiss Army knife, he began carefully cutting out the pages that held this chapter. He had not quite finished when he heard an unfamiliar female voice approaching from a distance.

The voice, though pleasing in tonal qualities, was uttering an uninterrupted stream of curses and obscenities which would have made a 90-year-old merchant sailor wince with disgust. Turning toward the voice, Tom beheld a young blonde woman whom he had never seen before in his life, coming in his direction along the park path; her filthy language was being spoken into a cellphone.

As the blonde came nearer, Tom grew half-aware of some of what she was actually talking about: something to do with Christianity and Christians being directly and solely responsible for every war, dictatorship, famine, plague and natural disaster in the history of the world, including the history before Christianity was founded. Also, her desire for the most luridly horrible things imaginable to happen to every Christian preacher on Earth. Tom was half-aware of these things...but FULLY aware of what a fabulously gorgeous face the woman had. He knew he could easily drown in those dazzlingly blue eyes. What she looked like below the neck he could not tell, because the lady writing the story would never describe any feature of any female character below the neck.

Still, ten seconds of clearly seeing that face told him what mattered to him. This was the one, his destined love! Springing up from the park bench, he stood before her and exclaimed, "I love you! I adore you! I want to marry you and spend my life pampering and indulging you! Life can hold no happiness for me if I can't have you! By the way, what's your name?"

The pages Tom had cut away from his Bible slid off the bench and were carried off on the breeze: the sixth chapter of Second Corinthians, with its passage about being unequally yoked.

I'm not a big fan of romance novels by any stretch(I prefer historical fiction,mystery,or western),but I read every genre,so I do read most Christian romance authors.
An overuse of a phrase/plot device doesn't makes a book the "world's worst Christian romance",imo.That should be reserved for those books that are labeled Christian,and defiantely are not.
I've found many Christian romances that were so filled with immorality and innapropraite scenes that I've thrown them down after a couple chapters.
Yet these dirty books were published by reputable Christian publishers,and endoursed by Christian fiction catalogs,and companies.
I've always wondered why that is allowed.

I've never tried reading Christian romance novels. I don't think they would work for me. That excerpt... yuck. It's rather... horrible.

Thank you, Bella-E, it was SUPPOSED to be yucky. Too many Christian novels, even by authors who otherwise have good things to say, insist on having a supposedly mature Christian character be absolutely fixated on a romantic prospect on NO basis except outward appearance, and this often when the attractive person is KNOWN to be an unbeliever.

Snowflower, my point is not to spoof immoral books, but to spoof books written by genuinely Christian authors--who just have some very serious blind spots. I mean what I say about a bad CHRISTIAN romance--not evil in intention, but awkwardly done. Also note that a story can MENTION the existence of dirty and perverted things (because these DO happen in the real world), yet not be APPROVING of them or trying to titillate the reader with them. Outside the romance genre, but within Christian fiction, Frank Peretti's novels "The Oath" and "The Visitation" are good examples of this.

Thanks for weighing in, Umbrella. There IS NO real story for that to be an excerpt of. I made up this opening episode, and will make up others, as bits by themselves, ONLY to illustrate what NOT to put in a Christian novel.

By the way, the real reason I read only romance and family stories to Jan is that she has practically ZERO interest in anything else. She would never take any interest in a fantasy or science fiction story, even if it had some romance in it.

Yow, this is SPOOKY! I just got done replying to a friendly question from Umbrellascenecore, and she seems to have deleted her own entry before I even got my reply posted!

EXCERPT TWO:


"Be sure to pour lots of grape juice into the mixture, so it'll stain Megan's dress...Good, now just a little ammonia for the stink; it'll _probably_ be diluted enough so it won't blind her for life if it hits her eyes..."

This was the home of Tom Woollywit's older brother George. George's wife Alberta, while preparing her famous alfalfa-sprout lasagna, could hear her eldest daughter Lucretia giving directions to her next-born sister Lizzie. For the past fifteen minutes, in their mother's immediate presence, the two girls had been working to concoct an amazing mixture of liquids calculated to produce discomfort, stench and staining; and from the start they had spoken aloud of their intention to pour this onto their youngest sister Megan, who was currently doing her math homework in another room. Alberta made no move at all to stop them as they completed their "secret formula" and began carrying two saucepans full of it out of the kitchen.

Twelve seconds later, Megan's voice could be heard shrieking, "MOM! HELP!!! " At this, Alberta finally went into action. Rushing from the kitchen, she was in time to see Megan dash past her, with some of the horrid fluid already soaking her dress, and head for the front door. Hot in pursuit came Lucretia and Lizzie, the latter having not yet had the chance to deliver her payload. Uttering another shriek for help, but not waiting for the result, Megan flew out the door. Alberta was last out the door as her older two daughters picked up speed after their victim.

Megan covered less than fifty feet before Lucretia overtook her and struck her full-force on the head with her empty saucepan. Megan fell stunned, and Lucretia stomped on her with both feet until her partner in assault caught up; then Lucretia stepped back so Lizzie could pour her own load of nasty liquid onto Megan. The new splash restored Megan to consciousness enough that she could cry out for help again--until both Lucretia and Lizzie began kicking her in the ribs.

"GIRLS!" Alberta shouted. "_What_ have I told you about fighting?" She moved in, and Lucretia and Lizzie jumped back from their soaked and bruised little sister. With righteous indignation, Alberta fiercely grabbed hold of...Megan.

Yanking her youngest child roughly to her feet, Alberta yelled at her, "I've told you a hundred times, fighting never solves anything! What are you _doing,_ fighting your sisters??"

Megan painfully and sobbingly gasped, "But Mom...I wasn't fighting...at all, they just...attacked me!"

"Nonsense!" the mother snapped. "You know perfectly well that it takes two sides to fight, so you're as guilty as they are! You're grounded for ten weeks--" As if remembering something, she turned toward the other two children and said mildly, "Be sure to put those pans in the dishwasher, okay?" Then she turned back to Megan. "You're grounded for ten weeks, and your next three birthday parties are cancelled!" She then folded her arms in a pose of Solomonic wisdom; with her grasp removed, Megan collapsed onto the grass.

From where she lay, the girl moaned, "Are you ONLY punishing me? Don't _they_ get punished at all?"

"No, they don't," replied Alberta, "because you've committed a far worse offense than their little prank: you TATTLED on your sisters!!!! Tattling is the same as gossip, and we will have NO gossip in this household...." Then Alberta suddenly noticed how big a lump had formed on Megan's head where Lucretia had struck. Her heart softening, she said in a more tender tone, "But I'll tell you what, honey: if you apologize to Lucretia and Lizzie for tattling on them, I'll take a week off the grounding."

Inflated and exhilarated with a sense of her own magnificent spirituality, Alberta returned into the house without waiting to see if Megan was able to walk. Inside, she noticed that Lucretia and Lizzie were engaged in burning Megan's entire stamp collection. Seeing this, she thought, Maybe I should offer Megan TWO weeks off the grounding if she apologizes to them.

When things had calmed down, Alberta remembered that she still needed to prepare her lesson for the next women's Bible study. She was going to explain why Abel was equally guilty with Cain, Moses equally guilty with Pharaoh, Elijah equally guilty with Ahab, Mordecai equally guilty with Haman, and John the Baptist equally guilty with Herod Antipas.

This is great. And this is also why I don't usually read Christian romance novels. It's hard to find books that are well written and have good themes, too.

Thanks, Neevil! Now, the story is jumping ahead some in time. Tom Woollywit found out the foul-mouthed blonde's name: Jessica Slatternly. He has demonstrated his unconditional love for her by taking the blame himself when she intentionally drove her car into a parked church bus to render it unable to pick up children for Sunday school. The pastor believed Tom to be telling the truth about having been at the wheel of the car himself; and while Tom had the pastor's attention, Jessica stole money from the church office to pay for her later car repairs. And now for a tender love scene...


EXCERPT THREE:

Tom had to remind himself to breathe as Jessica pushed a stray lock of her golden hair back behind her ear. He put a finger under her chin to tilt her face upward so he could see her deep azure eyes dancing. Both of them felt electricity from the touch, and heard their hearts singing. Jessica felt the floor swaying under her feet as she leaned her head against his chest, so she reminded herself to breathe. Tom was already imagining their wedding; it would be a civil ceremony, because he was not about to be so intolerant and judgmental as to demand that God have anything to do with it. All that really mattered was the harmony between their hearts; God was love, so He would understand. Jessica looked up again and saw Tom's dark eyes dancing, so she reached both her hands up to frame his face, and they both felt a wonderful warmth from the touch. Tom felt the floor sinking under his feet, so he pushed a lock of his own hair behind his ear. Jessica put one finger under Tom's chin to tilt his face, which reminded her to breathe while her heart was singing. His heart beat a furious rhythm as he twined his fingers with hers. The floor was dancing, and Tom and Jessica both raised their hands to frame each other's faces, feeling electricity from the locks of hair they were tucking behind their ears. Their eyes were singing and feeling a wonderful warmth, so they put fingers under each other's chins as their hearts wavered under their feet, and they imagined their civil ceremony with hands framing their faces as their eyes danced and the stray locks of hair felt electricity from the floor and their fingers were twining and they put their eyes under their chins to tilt Jessica's head against Tom's chest where she drowned in his eyes but reminded herself to breathe and their faces framed their hearts which were singing.

Hahahaha! I am cracking up here. Loooved the romance scene. Esp the last sentance, lol.

Please, do one of Karen Kingsbury. I love her, but gosh . . . all her characters ever do is contemplate.

This was so yucky (the exact right word in my opinion) I can´t believe this is called christian romance!

Dreamer, the latest excerpt WAS largely based on the way Mrs. Kingsbury, may God bless and keep her, over-uses a few favorite phrases. Characters in her books have their eyes "dancing" so much that I don't see how they can safely drive a car--nor even hold on to the steering wheel, when they're always "lifting their hands as if in surrender." But the vivid scenes she has written of characters dying in God's grace, actually depicted entering Heaven, compensate for a lot, so I don't want to be TOO hard on her.

Ephinie, the reason I depicted that outrageously incompetent mother (who herself deserves to be publicly flogged) siding with the aggressors against the victim is that not only does this happen in real life, there is a mild extent to which the Christian romance novelists condone the same nonsense. That is, they SO greatly over-inflate the priority of forgiveness, spelled i-n-d-u-l-g-e-n-c-e, that in family relationships a positive preference is given to the most selfish and disruptive members of a family. I tossed in the gossip reference because, as you may have seen me remark elsewhere, the outcry against "gossip" is CONSTANTLY used in churches to silence LEGITIMATE protests and shield wrongdoers from accountability.

i waondering the same thing as ephinie. and excerpt 3 funnyest thing ever. I was like i wonder they're going to do and then i was like "am i reading the same line over and over again?" hahah this made my day

I remember one friend of mine describing these works as "bodice-rippers with no bodices ripping"!

One of the most dangerous things about such romances is a common and very dangerous idea, that expressed by a phrase like, "He's not a bad man, he's just misunderstood! All he needs is the love of a good woman to straighten him out!" I can't count how many times I've spoken to women who've come to grief over that folly. For instance, I just reconnected with a friend of mine from 30 years ago. She is a devout Christian who ended up settling for a man who was a tepid churchgoer at best, but agreed to take classes and be confirmed into her tradition in order to marry her. Well, it didn't take long for him to revert back to his pre-Christian ways. She tried to keep the marriage going for over two decades of his immaturity and selfishness, but ended up kicking him out when he started molesting their daughter. Sadly, the "love of a good woman" wasn't enough to change his heart. I feel sad that she didn't have the patience to wait for God to provide her a man whose heart was already submitted to Him. That kind of patience takes faith - and even "Christianized" romances don't help it.

I'm painfully aware of the grief so many believing women bring on themselves; I call it "the pearls casting THEMSELVES to the swine." The main reason I reversed genders here, with Tom as the Christian and Jessica as the heathen, was to give professed-Christian Tom the male initiative of proposing marriage--an initiative he could thus be seen using idiotically at his very first encounter with Jessica.

Mentioning the absence of damaged bodices raises another point which I had been unsure how best to work in, though I hinted at it when I said Tom could not see Jessica's body. Many of the women who write Christian romances are scrupulous to the pitch of Pharisaism when it comes to imagining their heroines ever showing any flesh but face and fingers--and I mean in modern settings, not just historical ones where the women would have been covered up anyway. Modern Christian women in many of the novels are perpetually and stubbornly described at all times as wearing either floor-length skirts, or ugly, bulky, mannish pantsuits...until you feel sure they would continue wearing the same outfits when swimming OR taking a shower. Yet this prudish dress code is NO protection against the same women falling madly in love with men whom they know to be unbelievers--though of course the author makes it turn out all right in the end. Straining out gnats and swallowing camels is what comes to my mind. I think a woman in the real world would be better off wearing shorts and a T-shirt, but resolving to date or marry only a man who loves God, than following the opposite set of priorities which many of the authors I'm ridiculing promote.

More snideness to come.

EXCERPT FOUR:

Lucretia and Lizzie did not have quite enough time to keep the pillow forced onto Megan's face long enough to suffocate her, before they had to snatch it away quickly and look innocent, as their parents George and Alberta entered Megan's hospital room. "Honey, we've brought the pastor to see you," said George to his youngest daughter, gesturing toward the fat man who now entered behind him, carrying an Oprah Winfrey book instead of a Bible.

Pastor Toastmilk gently shook Megan back into consciousness. "Hello, Megan. I've been praying for you to be set free from all that hate in your heart. Are you ready to apologize to your sisters for tattling and gossiping and being judgmental?" Megan could only groan.

"Remember," the pastor continued, "Jesus said that when you go to the altar, if you remember that your brother has done you harm, you have to go to your brother and get him to accept your unconditional approval on his own terms before you're allowed to worship." Again, Megan could only groan.

Pastor Toastmilk sighed. "George, Alberta, this is a very stubborn girl here. I normally say that children can do no wrong, but there's nothing I can do with this one. Perhaps you should send her to be schooled in a more enlightened society, like Cuba or North Korea."

"Why, what a fine idea!" said Alberta, brightening. "I was just reading something Jimmy Carter said about those places; that might be just the thing to teach Megan the right attitude. We'll look into it."

When George and Alberta escorted the pastor out, Lucretia and Lizzie asked to stay behind and "say goodbye." But again, they did not have time to kill Megan as they wished; for a nurse came in. The nurse not only came in; as soon as the door of the room was closed behind her, she shocked the two brats out of their skins--by transforming before their eyes into a seven-foot-tall, blue-skinned space alien, with five-foot long arms that lunged forth to grab them.

Holding the terrified girls in front of her suddenly-fanged face, the extraterrestrial nurse growled, "Listen closely, worms. Even we space aliens know your Bible better than that idiot preacher does. Jesus really said the exact opposite of what Pastor Toastmilk said: it's the one who COMMITTED the offense who has no right to worship without seeking reconciliation--not the VICTIM! And just to spell it out, YOU TWO are the offenders here! It would serve both of you right if I ate you alive right now!"

"But we were only pursuing our self-realization," whimpered the trembling Lizzie. "Doesn't our self-esteem count for more than a little thing like our sister's life?"

"You two are hopeless," the space alien groaned. "Well, not hopeless; but it will take more than my space technology to change your hearts." She then rendered Lucretia and Lizzie unconscious with a stun-beam from her eyes, after which she resumed her human aspect and approached Megan. The injured girl had seen some of what happened, and stared at the space-nurse with astonishment.

"Are you a Star Wars character?"

"No, dear, I'm not pantheistic or occult enough. My planet believes in a personal Creator, not a nameless Force. But I do have a spaceship. Would you like to see it? We have onboard medical facilities to complete your recovery; but I won't take you there unless you want me to, and I promise to return you to Earth after you've seen enough of space."

Megan smiled at her rescuer. "You know what? I'm not sure I'll ever want to come back. Space aliens would make a better Christian family than MINE has been so far."

"Well, give them a chance. The fact that it's wrong for them to tell you to apologize for being abused doesn't mean you shouldn't hope for their hearts to be changed by the Creator."

When George and Alberta returned and found Lucretia and Lizzie just waking up, they almost failed to notice that Megan and the nurse had vanished.

I brought in the extraterrestrial (not something common to romance novels) for two reasons:

1) Pastor Toastmilk's INCREDIBLY stupid misreading of the "Leave your gift by the altar" passage is, unfortunately, one I have seen done in the real world by more than one preacher, including one Catholic priest. This glaringly false reading, again, sides WITH the aggressor AGAINST the injured party. So I decided to show just HOW stupid it is by saying that even a space alien could tell it was wrong.

2) Although the story is not exactly supposed to be from MY viewpoint, but rather the viewpoint of an imaginary dorky lady novelist--who WOULD be so thickheaded as to approve of Alberta Woollywit--nonetheless, I just couldn't stand to put poor Megan through any more undeserved abuse. (Similarly, there are many PARENTS who get FALSELY accused of child abuse; it would also be hard for me to leave persons like that being unfairly mistreated.) So I brought in someone who would intervene for her. Let's say that Space Nurse is the only speaking character in the satire who DOES speak for me.

Do I get first dibs on the film rights?

Sure, if you still WANT to film it after you read this next portion:


EXCERPT FIVE:


In the beloved old house by the creek, Shep and Agnes Woollywit, parents of Tom, George and the missing Deborah, were sitting down to their nightly Bible study. Two weeks ago they had looked at the 23rd Psalm, John 3, and First Corinthians 13; last week they had discussed how Psalm 23 relates to John 3, and how John 3 relates to First Corinthians 13, and how First Corinthians 13 relates to Psalm 23. This week they were discussing how Psalm 23 relates to First Corinthians 13, and how First Corinthians 13 relates to John 3, and how John 3 relates to Psalm 23. They were planning for next week to discuss how Psalm 23 relates to both John 3 and First Corinthians 13, and how John 3 relates to both First Corinthians 13 and Psalm 23, and how First Corinthians 13 relates to both Psalm 23 and John 3.

They began with prayer, which as usual included prayer for their kidnapped daughter in her ongoing ordeal. They prayed, as usual, that the Satan-worshipping kidnappers would learn to love themselves, which the Woollywits assumed was the great and only thing required for those kidnappers to forgive Deborah for any insensitivity she might have shown them, so that they would let her go if there was anything left of her.

As they opened their Bibles, Agnes remarked, "Yesterday while I was outside sunbathing in my long skirt and business jacket, I was listening to Gloryslush Radio, and I got a surprise: they interrupted the all-worship-chorus format with something they called a Bible teaching program."

Shep's eyebrows rose. "Teaching on Christian radio? Now, that's an interesting concept! So, were they teaching on Psalm 23, John 3 or First Corinthians 13?"

"None of those," Agnes replied. "That was the second surprise. The speaker talked about a couple of books called Isaiah and Romans; he said those are actually in the Bible. Just this morning I worked apart the glued-shut pages in my own Bible, and sure enough, Isaiah and Romans were in there!"

Shep sprang to his feet, staring down wide-eyed at his own Bible which he clutched in his hands. "What? There are OTHER parts in the Bible besides Psalm 23, John 3 and First Corinthians 13?" His voice grew strained, choking. "I always...did wonder...why it was...so thick...." The next moment, the patriarch of the extended Woollywit clan fell over dead with a heart attack from the shock.

I don't understand what this novel is supposed to be showing. Te author is Christian isn't she? because if if she/he weren't then some of this stuff would make more sense [to me] as to why they wrote it. Kind of like a fluffy kind of Philip Pullman