Every writer expects criticism of his or her work. All of us are warned about this early in our careers. Something I heard years ago has stuck with me, and I think of it when I encounter such criticism: “I cannot expect to be universally loved and respected.” My first one-star review was given to my debut novel, CODE BLUE years ago. And I expect to hear this particular criticism again as reviews appear for my latest novel of medical suspense, MEDICAL JUDGMENT. Certain people will complain because I write “Christian fiction.” I’m prepared to have my writing style criticized. Perhaps the reader doesn’t like medical novels. Maybe I don’t pack my work with enough suspense. It’s possible that the characters are one-dimensional. All these are valid criticisms. But I was surprised and disappointed the first time I had my writing criticized because it was written from a Christian worldview. I’ve noticed lately that the genre in which I write is now labeled “Inspirational” fiction. Perhaps that’s appropriate in our politically correct climate, but it doesn’t fully solve the problem. If we use this label, should we then also use terms like “Smutty fiction” or “Fiction containing lots of cursing?”…

As I drove my daughter to school yesterday, I was distracted (at a stoplight) by a sticker slapped on the bumper of the van waiting in front of us. Where Does a Woman Belong? In the White House. My daughter said, “They must like Hillary.” “Maybe.” Then, trying not to sound like an old codger, I mentioned how grateful I was that messages like this were part of her everyday life. “When I was your age, the response to that question would have been . . . In the Kitchen.” “Wow.” My daughter gave me a compassionate smile. That was then. This is now. Thank God. She turned the music up, and we drove on. I am a pre-Title Nine woman, raised in a community that didn’t take kindly to the likes of Betty Friedan or Gloria Steinem. In my world, Billie Jean King’s defeat of Bobby Riggs was greeted with bemusement. When Helen Reddy sang “I Am Woman,” people looked heavenward or changed the radio station. Maybe women were strong, maybe invincible, but they didn’t make a big deal out of it. They didn’t roar. I came to assume that, with a few exceptions from the nineteenth century, women…