Join the hosts at the roundtable as they talk about their favorite obsessions: the art and artists they love so much, they want the world to love them too. Mandy asks Matt and Christina to discuss where this impulse comes from—this desire for others to love what we love—and why it hurts when our enthusiasm is met with a shrug or a shake of the head. What does this impulse say about the impact of art on our hearts? How can shared (or not shared) affinities shape community?

Whether you’re a new novelist, an experienced novelist, or not a novelist at all, there’s something to learn from the intricacies of story structure. Author Elisa Lambert joins the table to discuss. She’s one of the Anselm Society Arts’ Guild’s member artists. She’s also writing a novel using something called the Book Architecture method.

We recently talked with SD Smith about the heart and motivation behind the upcoming Green Ember video game. But how do you make a video game in the first place? Bryan Engram is here to help. He's the co-founder of Brazen Animation: the studio that's creating the Green Ember video game. He explains the building blocks of effective gameplay and how to use those blocks to create a compelling story.

We know there's "nothing new under the sun," but must there be so many TV shows with a first responder, life-or-death, emergency services premise? Join Mandy, Matt, and Christina as they discuss the plethora of shows like these. Why are writers and viewers drawn to these stories--and what differentiates those worth saving from those that ought to be DOA?

Author Jennifer Layte is a firm believer in the power of story to draw us closer to Jesus and closer to an understanding of who we are. Join Mandy and Jenn at the pub table as they discuss story, nicknames, and Jenn's latest book, Follower: How Getting Close to Jesus Brings You to Yourself -- a narrative study of Simon Peter's journey with Jesus.

Good art moves us and makes us (or helps us) feel things. Mandy asks her cohosts to consider: why do some of us gravitate toward sad art when we're already sad? What is the purpose and value of art that's a little bit (or very much) heartbreaking?