My Personal Fab Five

Everybody needs good advice from their friends.  These literary figures have long been my good friends, so much so that I call them Aunt or Uncle depending.  These are not my favorite saints.  That's a whole different thing.  This is more about camaraderie than hero worship, though I'll admit to a little hero worship.

Tante Corrie (Ten Boom)
The consequences for her sympathy for others are horrific, but no matter how much else she lost, she never lost this basic instinct of caring for others in trouble.  I want to be as brave and forgiving as she was.

 Auntie Jane (Austen)
She pushed herself to write for publication, but never lost her own voice.  I want to be published.

Aunt Flan(nery O'Connor)
She woke me up and made writing seem like something worth doing.  I never understood what redemption meant until The Violent Bear It Away.  Now I can't stop looking at it--through parted fingers, but still.

Uncle Jack (C. S. Lewis)
His tape started running in my head when Dad started reading me The Chronicles of Narnia at two and finally left off reading me Lewis with That Hideous Strength when I was off to get married at twenty-three.  I marvel at how he shapes my mind, down to a fascination with medieval literature.  I hope to learn his kindness.

Uncle Frebby (Frederick Buechner)
He is my only living model, which was quite a comfort when I was lonely.  He is so patient with his faults and honest about discussing them.  I grew up in a world where flaws were hidden or everyone was too intimidated to state the obvious.  I want to be that genuine.