Replication by Jill Williamson ~ A Giveaway!

Summary

When Your Life Is Not Your Own

Martyr---otherwise known as Jason 3:3---is one of hundreds of clones kept in a remote facility called Jason Farms. Told that he has been created to save humanity, Martyr has just one wish before he is scheduled to 'expire' in less than a month. To see the sky.

Abby Goyer may have just moved to Alaska, but she has a feeling something strange is going on at the farm where her father works. But even this smart, confident girl could never have imagined what lies beneath a simple barn. Or what would happen when a mysterious boy shows up at her door, asking about the stars.

As the reality of the Jason Experiment comes to light, Martyr is caught between two futures---the one for which he was produced and the one Abby believes God created him to have. Time is running out, and Martyr must decide if a life with Abby is worth leaving everything he's ever known.

What I Loved

This book just might have turned me into a sci-fi fan. The story definitely turned me into a Jill Williamson fan.

First, the story. I felt sucked into the plot from the first chapter as I quickly realized Martyr was unlike any hero from any book I'd ever read. Reading this book was like riding a rollercoaster. Underground. In the dark.

I had no idea where the next page, paragraph, word might take me. Replication is masterfully done, with enough suspense to keep me up past bedtime and enough sweetness to make me smile and laugh along with the characters.

I mentioned Martyr is unique. Perhaps my favorite element in this book is the characterization the author poured into her characters. Martyr's and Abby's voices are soooo different and I loved that.

Also, it was hilarious seeing contemporary teenagerdom through Martyr's eyes. The first time he eats M&M's and pizza, the first time he uses a seatbelt, and the first time he watches television all made me shake my head in wonder. It was like seeing my reality through the eyes of someone from another era -- or another planet. Fascinating.

This book delves into an interesting topic -- human cloning, yet the Abby's strong beliefs and Martyr's new faith make it clear that only God can create and give us purpose. 

What I Didn't Love as Much

I sat here for a minute, staring at the cover of the book, trying to think of something I didn't like about Replication. Let's see...okay, I've got something (sort of). It ended without totally wrapping up.

...which I hope means that Marytr's and Abby's and the other Jasons' stories aren't over yet.

About the Author

Jill Williamson is a novelist, dreamer, and believer. Growing up in Alaska led to a love of books, and in 2010 her first novel, By Darkness Hid, won the Christy Award. She loves working with teenagers and gives writing workshops at libraries, schools, camps, and churches. Jill lives in Oregon with her husband and two children. Visit Jill at http://www.jillwilliamson.com/.

For more about Jill, click here.

Extras

Visit the book website.

Watch Abby's book trailer.

Watch Martyr's book trailer.

Read the first chapter.

What's Your Expiration Date?


Team Novel Teen is a group of bloggers dedicated to spreading the word about clean teen fiction. Check out other posts about Replication: The Jason Experiment by Jill Williamson by clicking on the links below, and check out www.NovelTeen.com for more information about Team Novel Teen.


ADD Librarian • Audacious Reader • The Book Fae • Books I Recommend • Book Nook 4 You • Bookworm Reading • Christian Bookshelf Reviews • Fiction Fire • Gillian Adams • Jill Williamson • Katie McCurdy • Kurly Katie's Ruminations • My Story Shelf • The Pen and Parchment • Rachelle Rea • SLY Games • Terri Harr

The Giveway

The part ya'll have all been waiting for, right? :) Jill is going to give away a copy of the newly released Replication to one reader from the contintental US!

How to Enter

You must be a follower of this blog to enter and you also must leave your email address in a comment so that I can contact you.

You can enter one, two, or three times:
1) Leave a comment on this blog post (and don't forget your email addy!).
2) Tweet about this giveaway (tag me so I see it).
3) Share about this giveaway on Facebook (please leave an additional comment saying you have done so).

The giveaway closes Sunday, February 5th at midnight EST. I'll either announce the winner Monday or Tuesday, depending on how crazy classes are Monday. :)

Disclaimer: I received a copy of this book in return for an honest review.

I've Missed This

Truly.

The clattering of my bracelets on my laptop's keyboard. (Did you know I named my laptop? Meet Griselda. It sounded like a nice fairy-godmother name and so she is.)

The slow and steady whirr of the machine as I write. (A lovely background symphony, don't you think?)

The pitter-patter of my fingers against the keys. (Or maybe pitter....patter, pitter...patter...pat-.... or something unpredictable like that.)

And the way the words pop up on the screen, delicious and strong, daring and bold, ready to be released to the world (most of the time, anyway).

I feel rusty at this strange, ephemeral thing called blogging. Which is probably why the pattern is lots of parentheses and question marks. :)

School is going fine. Usually, here, in this uncornered place called the third-week-of-the-semester, I'm still tearing my hair out, trying to decipher syllabi and assignments and interpret those looks on my teacher's faces (or the tone of their emails). At least, that has been my experience in the five semesters I've called myself a college girl.

Blissfully, this is looking like the most low-key semester I'll have yet. (And my hands shake as I write this. Will writing this make it wrong?) And not just because I like most of my classes or two of my teachers are that "anti-teacher" type that want me to learn something besides just spouting off facts and dates (love those kind).

I think I've matured just a little bit. Grown up just a little bit (mentally, not in stature). Figured out that it's not about the A's and approval...it's about serving Him with all those little moments that make up crowded days that make up this crazy life. And there is joy to be found in the crowds and the crazy.

Or at least, that's what I'm finding.

But that's just it. I have to find it. I have to look for it with eyes wide open and hands ready to receive the gifts.

I have to be willing to hear the music of hope cascading through my life.

And that's why I blog. Why I write. Why I dare to throw myself into wordcrafting.

And that follower counter over there tipped to 100 yesterday, which elicited a gasp of disbelief and a smile and a snort from me. Really? That many people?

Uh, wow.

I've perused some other blogs this week, discovered other corners of the blogosphere where kindred spirits flit and fly and leave their mark, and they have blessed me. Especially, this one, who challenged me to embrace the not-so-mundane. :)

So, all in all, I've missed this. But I'm back.

New Year... New Attitude... New Blog Post

And only about two weeks late, right? :)

So this will (hopefully) mark my return to regular blogging, which hitherto has been put on hold in favor of syllabus-fever (normal for a new semester).

#86: a look back at Daring December and all the happy little moments that with it

#87: a look forward to a year spent counting the gifts He gives so generously

#88: treasured friends who e-mail and Facebook and Twitter me so many smiles

#89: making up new words

#90: the tangy smell of the peach-scented candle I've had since graduation



Surrender the Staff...or the Snake

"Moses answered, 'What if they do not believe me or listen to me and say, "The Lord did not appear to you?"'

Then the Lord said to him, 'What is that in your hand?'

'A staff,' he replied.

The Lord said, 'Throw it on the ground.'

Moses threw it on the ground and it became a snake, and he ran from it.

Then the Lord said to him, 'Reach out your hand and take it by the tail.' So Moses reached out and took hold of the snake and it turned back into a snake in his hand."

Exodus 4: 1-5 (NIV)

“How do you eat an elephant?” Mom likes to remind me when I’m bemoaning the three hundred math problems I need to complete by Wednesday.

“One bite at a time.”

How do you live daringly...change the world…pursue your dream…fulfill your destiny?

One surrender at a time.

Don't you just love Moses? He makes for great movies and provides endless fodder for my overactive imagination.

What’s more, we both greatly dislike snakes!

But Moses wasn't just afraid of snakes, you know. He frustrates me with his inferiority complex and struggles with doubt, until I realize I’m annoyed because he is only echoing my own pleas to God.

Here we see him making the right choice (something he didn’t do much of in these beginning chapters of Exodus) and surrendering. In obedience to God’s command, Moses tossed to the ground the staff in his hand, the tool of his livelihood, the symbol of the new beginning he had made in Midian after those tumultuous years of growing up in Pharaoh’s royal household.

He surrendered.

Only to watch as the staff slithered across the ground.

Hold up. Wait a minute. That is sooooo not what I expected here! he may have thought as he darted as far away from the snake and the burning bush as he could get.

Can’t you just hear the complaint running through his mind? This is NOT the morning I had planned when I kissed Zipporah goodbye.

The problem is Moses forget that surrendering means... well, surrendering. It means relinquishing all our rights and laying them on the altar. It means giving up complete control to Christ.

It means that the staff can become a snake, it can bud, it can become whatever God wants it to be.

And oftentimes we don’t like that, because we already have plans for the staff.

Moses certainly did. He was a shepherd. He had a very real flock that needed a very real staff. No snake required, thank you very much.

When Moses saw just how powerful was His God and just what his little staff could become once God got a hold of it, fear grabbed him by the throat and held on tight.

How often do I do that? How often do I take my dreams to God, lay them at His feet, cry over them, pray a sincere prayer of surrender... then just as God is beginning to work His wonders, do His thing, and transform my little hopes and vision into His, I balk. W-Wait a minute, God. I think we need to discuss this first…

Two years ago I would never have imagined that writing a short devotional and having the guts to submit it to a ministry I've respected for years, would release a flood. I've watched as God opened door after door for me to write for several amazing ministries, complete a novel, the sequel to said novel, another, completely different, novel and attend a writer’s conference!

One year before that I would have never thought that I would raise money for Haiti in a read-a-thon or begin a blog.

One year before that…

And the list goes on and on…and I’m sure it will only continue to grow as the years are added to this heart.

After every surrender, God takes my trembling hand and transforms my ordinary staff and ordinary dreams, turning them completely on their head.

And I get downright terrified.

Sometimes I’m so excited that I jump and down, worshipping, shouting for joy, squealing until my dogs go crazy with me.

But most of the time, like Moses, I glance around, searching for a place to run and hide. I can't possibly do this. This is not what I bargained for.

Then God tenderly speaks to my heart. Oh, no, honey. You can’t be frightened yet. This is only the beginning.

And I cry, Are you sure? I’m not certain I can take much more.

There’s a cosmic nod and chuckle. I’m just getting started.

So I take a deep breath and follow Moses’ lead and ...reach for the snake.

By the tail.

Always by the tail.

Why is that?

He knows my fears. He hears my doubts. He sees my trembling. He holds my hand.

And He is a patient God. He doesn’t reveal His extraordinary plan all at once (He knows that I’d just faint). He gives it to me piece by piece, step by step, day by day. Tail first. If He had revealed up front all the craziness my life would be, I would have balked. But He didn’t. All He said was, “Write.” And I did.

Moses grabbed his staff-turned-snake by the tail end. He didn’t grab the head, where the full potential of its Pharaoh-plucking-power lay. Just the tail.

This month we've talked a lot about daring. It has been so much fun to journey through Daring December with you! But what is the next step? How to go about grabbing God’s daring plan? First, surrender. Then, take the one step you can see, do the one thing you know to do, or pray the one prayer He is leading you to pray.

Throw it on the ground. Surrender.

Grab it by the tail. Trust

And hang on. It’s a wild ride! 

Daring to be Restless

written by Sarah Elizabeth

What is this life of daring?

I believe it's living life as a restless bird. One who's longing to be more. This year God has been speaking to me over and over again about how I need to be a more daring young woman. Earlier on this year I was the proverbial "restless bird," but not in the right way. You see, I was restless in that I didn't dare to believe in myself and the gifts that God had given me. Instead I chose to let my fears and my worldly worries consume me. These negative restless behaviors were weighing me down, and they kept me from letting go and just flying.

After much pruning by The Master Gardener, many whispers to my feathery heart and going through the stretching motions of my comfortable secure, the Lord has made me once again restless. But this time it's in all the right ways.

Over the past few months I've found myself longing to become that restless-daring-more-than kind of young woman. I've become the daring one who longs to do more, to be more, to inspire more, to love more, to minister more, to know Him more and to pen more words than ever before. These are the things that have made this life of mine a daring one...and the restless spirit within me is now starting to take it's hold.

This kind of daring living requires us to live off of hope, to drink of the living waters constantly and to consume the bread of life, which fills our souls. Daring is found in the letting go, the releasing and living out of sweet dreams, and in the chasing after of everything more. A daring lifestyle will never be found in an overly complacent person, or the one who is too comfortably secure.

We've got to realize that it's okay to live life daringly. In fact I'm pretty sure God would endorse it, don't you? We must let our fears perish, and decide to live a life uncaged.

So, what are you chasing after?

I'm chasing after my dreams of becoming an author. (Wow. I actually said it!) Though I may sit here in front of a blank computer screen some days, not a word of inspiration to be found within my muddled brain, I dare to write anyway. I chase this daring restless venture, this seeking of more and this release of living out a story not my own, so that I might be a clearer reflection of Christ. I choose to let God be the One to write my story, though He never needed my permission of course, every day. Then I sit down and I write a story all my own and posts for you to read about this heart that wanders hither and yon.

It's in this everyday scrambling to chase after my word-filled watercolor dreams that I find myself desperately daring to be more.

Will you choose to be daring, too?

This everyday pursuit of my dreams, and my Jesus, is how I choose to live out this restless life of mine...daringly.

I'll admit that the daring life isn't always an easy one.

There are those days when it seems like it would be easier to just pull the covers over my head, and be content to only dream about the days I long for, instead of living them out. And I'm learning that anything worth living for will be hard to strive after.

But living a daring, eucharisteo filled, dreaming-every-second kind of life is one that satiates this hungry soul of mine, and it's the kind that calls this restless bird back home to nest, at the place where peace resides. My nest is found at the feet of Jesus.

So here's to the restless ones, the dreamers and the worriers...let's live a life of daring together!

Daring To Get Wet

Or How I Risked My Life for Gone With the Wind.

The reason I adore country music? Story songs.

Since a lot of my road trips to the store, to the library, to the school are solitary, I'm the girl you see driving down the road, belting out a song only she can hear. I keep myself entertained.

I'd listen to story songs all day long. Even the ones that make me cry (you know, like when they don't get together or someone dies or something). I hate when there's no happy ending. And yet I'll listen to it 'til I know all the words and can sing along.

For this reason, I am glad for the genre-police that make sure every book I pick up that is Romance ends with a happily-ever-after or a literary equivalent or something-that-makes-me-smile-and-think-that-was-worth-the-read.

What does all this have to do with that crazy title, Daring to Get Wet?

The fact that I could have titled this post When Tried-And-True Sing-Along Drivers Ride In Silence.

I rode home from the library in silence today. Something I never do.

I don't know what others' library routines are, but I have a little system. I go with an idea of what I want (or a list as the case was today). I park and amble up the walk reverently.

The Entrance:

I shoot for the back as fast as these legs will carry me (which is pretty fast, thanks to my puppy's training). The new books rack, the tables full of students doing homework, the line of computers stretching across the room like icing on a cake, all a blur.

My goal is the shelves.

I dart into the first available empty aisle and breath in the loveliness of being surrounded by paperback, hardcover, big, small, wide, tall words.

After gaping for a minute this afternoon and surrendering to the giddy smile that came to my face, I gathered the items on my list (and a few extras that beckoned) and hunkered down in a quiet corner.

There I sat for about an hour, jammed into an uncomfortable chair that has got to be older than the library itself and looks it. Totally uncaring that my knee would hardly allow me to hobble out the door when I stood, I became engrossed in a YA tome, oblivious to the sky darkening in the window behind me.

And, oh, did it darken.

Shutting the book, I realized my mistake.

It was either stay or flee.

On my way to check out my books, I stumbled upon the DVD Gone with the Wind, which I have been wanting to watch anyway.

It went to the top of the stack in my arms, because it's plastic and wouldn't be ruined by the torrential downpour which met me as the doors slid open.

With flip-flops slapping (now you know I live in the South--flip-flops in December) and jeans turning to plaster, I walked across the parking lot.

Laughing.

The entire time.

A year ago, no, a month ago... okay, probably a week ago, I would not have reacted like that. Upon seeing those big, angry clouds crying on my town, I would have high-tailed it back into that library so fast, Gone with the Wind would have thought itself watched.

But I didn't.

Even though my truck sat over yonder, clear on the other end of the parking lot.

I only got scared once. I'm a clumsy, klutzy, trip-if-you-talk-to-me girl and about halfway to safety (i.e. silver truck with my initials in the back windshield) I realized me + driving rain might not equal a happy equation. Glancing down at Scarlett and Rhett, I mused that I could seriously injure myself falling trying to transport them to my truck.

Even then I kept laughing.

Raindrops pounced on the books, on my arms trying to shelter them, in puddles in front of me, and...

I tasted raindrops.

They tasted sweet.

When I finally jumped into the driver's seat, laughing, shivering, drying off the books with that washcloth Daddy said would be a good idea to keep in the glove compartment and I didn't believe him until today...

I realized that daring isn't about the safe, the comfortable, the routine, or even the happily-ever-afters.

"Going around under an umbrella interferes with one's looking up at the sky." -- J. Kosinski

Daring is getting wet and tasting the sweetness of the rain.

And daring is turning the radio off and listening to the music the rain makes.