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Posted by Cheryl Russell
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09:54 PM Monday, 27 December 2004 |
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What would you do if an angel walked told you he's picking you up next Tuesday for a meeting with a disciple that has been dead for a couple thousand years? Duh. You would go, of course.
That is exactly what Todd Striker, the main character of Mike Nappa's book, does when an angel tells him he will be meeting with Matthew, the well-known gospel co-author. We then are walked through several weeks' worth of Todd and Matthew's question and answer sessions (always on Tuesday), getting to know each other, hanging out, etc. Matthew's two angel pals, Jackson, the angel mentioned above, and Calia, Matthew's beautiful female spiritual interpreter, are along for the ride.
Todd is a fairly well-known photographer living on the West Coast, trudging through a lonely life. He's got chip on his shoulder when it comes to God, having lost his pastor father to illness. Todd goes through the obvious reactions to his miracle scenario with Matthew, such as disbelief and hesitation. Nappa uses Matthew's culture shock for some chuckles, especially when each Tuesday, Matthew has a new out-of-place outfit on.
The heart of this book lies outside of the fantasy/comic aspect. After a handful of introductory chapters, Nappa uses each subsequent chapter to build a friendship between the photographer and the disciple, as Matthew answers a new question about life from Todd. They touch on miracles, Satan, prayer, pain, and much more. The author also includes brief flashbacks from Todd's past in each chapter to help us see the reasoning behind his inquiries and feelings. Additionally, Matthew reflects back to Bible times and his experiences with Jesus, to help illustrate his answers to Todd. Their interplay tugs at the heartstrings on more than one occasion.
At a fairly short length (196 pages), Mike Nappa makes very efficient use of his prose by loading the story with emotion. The real trick he pulls off is that on the surface, the subject matter seems light. But upon completing the book, you'll find you've been fed until you're full. |
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Posted by Karri Compton
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04:31 PM Sunday, 19 December 2004 |
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"Sometimes, as I'm writing my life, I get the weird feeling that someone is writing my life as I write about it." - Jimmy Tock
On August 9, 1974, Jimmy Tock enters the world, just as his grandfather is leaving it. But moments before his impending death, Josef Tock starts spouting what appears to be gibberish, bookended by a prediction of "five terrible days." He insists that his son Rudy, running from one bedside to the other, write down the five dates, which he does on the back of a circus ticket he has handy. Once the dates are recorded, Josef gives up the ghost. After a few minutes of grieving, Rudy returns to the maternity ward just in time to witness a deranged circus clown killing his wife's doctor, though a clever nurse protects his newborn child. Thus begins the saga of Jimmy Tock.
In his most accessible novel to date, Dean Koontz creates an incredibly believable world, wrapped around the lives of Jimmy and his family in the quiet resort town of Snow Village, Colorado. Jimmy grows up the son of a baker, following in his father's footsteps, not worrying about life, until in early adulthood, he finds himself approaching the first of the five terrible days his grandfather warned of. It should be noted that although Josef was more a pastry chef than a prognosticator, his early predictions about Jimmy's birth, including a rare birth defect, all come true, which forces the family to consider that the five terrible days are also true.
In a traditional novel, in which fate itself conspires against a character, the average novelist would show that time and time again, fate is a cruel taskmaster and not to be trifled with. Koontz, however, is no average novelist, and his uses his carefully crafted story, all told from Jimmy's perspective, to wring joy out of the most harrowing situations and show that fate is not the only force at work. In fact, the redemptive quality of how Jimmy and his family love each other and approach life, even within the framework of these five terrible days, belies that of a far more Christian perspective than many so-called Christian authors ever approach.
Jimmy's words in the midst of the first terrible day echo those of C.S. Lewis: "Insanity is not evil, but all evil is insane. Evil itself is never funny, but insanity sometimes can be. We need to laugh at the irrationality of evil, for in doing so we deny evil's power over us, diminish its influence in the world, and tarnish the allure it has for some people." And later, "What looks like tragic might be comic on second consideration, and what is comic might bring tears in time. Like life."
In addressing the insanity of evil, using a family of clowns no less, and discovering hope in the most hopeless of situations, Koontz crafts a story that is at once thrilling and adventurous, introspective and philosophical. A story that can be enjoyed without having to think too hard about it, but one that will resonate in the soul if you'll let it.
As I said before, this is Koontz's most accessible novel, but it's also one that should ring true to the readers of Infuze Magazine. "I have learned the structure of story from a family that delights in narrative and understands in its bones the magical realism of life." I challenge you to spend an afternoon with the Tocks. It just might change your outlook.
After all, there's always cake. |
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Posted by C.J. Darlington
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01:32 AM Thursday, 16 December 2004 |
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Let me begin by saying that if you don't have patience, then you may have difficulty with this novel. It's not linear, it doesn't spoonfeed plot point after plot point just to end up with some timely conclusion that puts you at ease, and even as we approach the end, the narrator remains absolutely as confused as the reader. This is a book that requires some diligence, but it is enjoyable.
See the thing is, in truth, The Literary Detective is about a search and rescue mission of sorts. A man named Henri is searching for the truth about who his father was (also named Henri... or was it Levi?), and in so doing the hope is that he can perhaps rescue his father from the image he has created in his mind over the years about who this man really was.
Assisting him on this mission via a series of interviews is a man named Titus, who claims to have known his father. Despite his uncertainty as to the nature of who his father really was, Henri, Jr. is at times even less certain about Titus and the words that are coming out of his mouth. He claims to have met Henri, Sr. in his dreams long before meeting him in person, and his recollections of the stories they would tell each other are nothing short of fantastical. There's no way to really know what is true and what isn't, so we see Henri's emotions go from hopeful to downright disbelieving at times after the interviews have been conducted.
Detective is full of questions, philosophizing, myths and legends, baseball, poetry, and God. Scattered and jumping incoherently at times from one thing to the next without any real connections, this random narrative gives the tale an off-kilter sensibility that's refreshing. Excerpts involving a gifted catcher for a local baseball team are mixed with others about a boy traveling via train to see a relative in Chicago, an author who is doing the same later on in life, and we even have tales of dragons, ogres and magicians being outsmarted and slain by heroes. It becomes increasingly difficult to know where the dreams and myths end and where reality begins.
This is what makes the structure of the novel so brilliant though: every last bit of this journey reads like a detective who has a desk absolutely littered with sheets of paper that he is using to try and piece everything together in his attempt to solve this "case." It's messy, but there's a logical progression in there somewhere if you can find it. This makes the story resonate a bit more strongly if you can imagine this particular notion in your mind as you read.
The only detractor that really keeps this novel from shining is the series of errors and misspellings that appear. A certain Hall of Fame pitcher's name is spelled incorrectly, words are capitalized that shouldn't be and vice versa, and in some cases it is simply a matter of changing a vowel or letter to make it one word instead of another. One could argue that no novel is without mistakes, and I agree, it was just that this was hard to deal with because there were more than a few of them in the story.
The Literary Detective is anything but a disposable read. At its heart, it's a story about the stories we tell and why we tell them, and it's a tale of the struggle to have faith as well as to forgive. You will likely find yourself challenged, so be prepared to read it bit by bit if necessary. I found the ending to be rewarding if a little odd, but worth it. This book is very unconventional and I would recommend it to anyone who likes more experimental works that take a regular genre and play around with it, bending it this way and that. |
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Posted by Chuck Pope
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12:11 AM Monday, 29 November 2004 |
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Your youngest child is dying. Do you seek medical attention for him, or put your trust in God to the test? This intense question kicks off Randy Singer's thriller set in the Northern Virginia streets, prisons, and courtrooms. Thomas and Theresa Hammonds are the parents who are faced with criminal charges because they chose to believe instead of act. Did they kill their son by not acting quickly enough? Paralegal Nikki Moreno and lawyer/professor Charles Arnold are their champions for justice. An ER doc with a chip on his shoulder and an over zealous prosecutor known as "the Barracuda" are their opponents. Gluing things together are the Hammonds' surviving children, Tiger and Stinky, and a convicted drug dealer named Buster. Dying Declaration is a courtroom drama that doesn't revolve around the outcome of the trial itself, which is refreshing. By the time the trial rolls around, the reader is emotionally invested on many different levels. He takes most of the main characters and reveals their thoughts and personality in quick and thorough fashion. The protective father with unwavering faith; the wild and crazy single paralegal who finds herself temporary guardian to the dead child's brother and sister; the lawyer tormented by the failure of his own marriage; and the young children caught in the middle, who nearly steal the show. As much as courtroom fare is usually for us big kids, Singer speaks through the children's honesty and undiluted innocence to give the book some comic relief and key moments. Fiction is not always so far from truth as it seems: Randy Singer is both a pastor and a lawyer himself, and his passion for Charles Arnold is strong and obvious. Singer uses his fictional Arnold to deal with controversial issues like racial profiling and abortion. But his deft touch avoids the trap of shoving anything down the reader's throat. This is one author whose work I can't to read more of. |
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Posted by Matt Conner
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12:09 AM Monday, 29 November 2004 |
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Michael Brewer could lead a rallying battle cry of, "Christian geeks unite!" Who Needs a Superhero? is many things: Brewer's justification for the innocent joy of reading comic books, an insightful look at popular superheros' backstories, a treatise on why comics aren't "just for kids," an explanation of why loving heroes is healthy, and dozens of spiritual lessons applicable to daily life drawn straight from those penciled pages. But more than anything, the book demostrates the mythological and spiritual importance of heroes, and why are inexorably drawn to them. As Brewer explains, we're drawn to heroes because we live in a world where scary things happen. So we long for rescue, for someone who can set the world right. Many place their trust in real-life figures: celebrities, musicians, athletes, politicians. Intense adoration for these figures inevitably leads us down the road to disappointment, because human beings will always find a way to fail us. So leaving behind the let-downs of the real world, we turn to fiction for heroes to inspire and lift us up. And no medium provides more inspirational, relatable heroes, than comic books. Brewer likens Superman to a son sent to earth from above to save us from ourselves. Batman represents obsession -- a haunted man who can never let go of his past. No character better or more personally understands the responsibility of serving mankind and helping those in need like Spider-Man. Brewer even sees parallels between the discrimination the X-Men face and the ways in which Christians are often viewed as on the outer fringes of society. The book's greatest virtue is that it's truly fun to read. Outside of all of the heady thinking on superheroes and their mythological significance, it's plainly obvious from page one that Michael Brewer is an enormous comic book fan himself, and his joy and love of the medium are infectious. Through personal anecdotes about his own experiences with comic book collecting, it's hard for the reader not to want to join in the fun. If only the God-followers of our generation could realize just how powerful and profound comic books truly are. There's something downright important to be found between those colorful pages -- something that illuminates the greater reality of life beyond the world we can see with our eyes, and reinforces a world of values and morals. On that count, Michael Brewer has crafted a vitally important work indeed. As he demonstrates, a passion for those guys and gals in spandex isn't something to hide or be ashamed of -- it should be encouraged. |
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Posted by Robin Parrish
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01:37 AM Wednesday, 24 November 2004 |
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H. Michael Brewer is an avid comic fan. And a pastor.
Now there's a combination you don't see everyday.
Brewer recently combined these two passions to write Who Needs A Superhero?, a look at "virtue, vice, and what's holy" in comic books. I spoke by phone to Dr. Brewer about his impressively extensive knowledge of comic books (wait till you hear how many he owns) and the inspiration he finds from them, from a room called the "batcave" in his home in Villa Hills, Kentucky.
Robin: How did this book come about?
Mike: I have to say, I've been surprised that folks seem to think this is such a fresh and creative idea. It seems like a perfect match to me to bring these kinds of subjects together. I grew up reading comic books, like most boys of my day. I was born in 1954, so within a couple of years on either side of my tenth birthday, Marvel Comics emerged as a superhero publisher. Spider-Man came along, Fantastic Four, The Hulk, Iron Man, Thor, all of those staple characters, who are icons today.
That shaped my growing up years. I grew up with those characters, along with a lot of wonderful DC Comics characters. I read comic books a lot, it was the subject of conversation and playtime on our street. I also grew up a Christian, and as a preacher of twenty-five years, I suppose I filter everything in life through that lens of Christian interpretation. I think comic books lend themselves to that just beautifully.
The dominant force in the field is still the superhero. That is basically a heroic fantasy. These are stories about people who have great power, and choose to use that power not to benefit themselves, but to serve others. To take care of people who are weak and oppressed. To stand up for folks who can't stand up for themselves. And to make the world a better place.
Those characteristics in themselves are not inherently Christian. One doesn't have to be a believer to do all of those things. But it certainly fits with what Christianity is about. So I see those things merging just beautifully.
Also, I have a theory. And I touched on some of this in the book. I have a theory that there is an innate longing for heroes inside us.
I actually copied that from the book onto my notes for this interview, because I loved the way you put it. You say, "The spiritual hunger for heroes is woven into the fabric of the human creature."
Oooh, I said that well. (Laughs.) And I believe that. Some of that emerges from reading folks like Joseph Campbell and The Power of Myth. And some of that emerges from twenty-five years of pastoral conversations and seeing what goes on in people's lives. I think even the most gifted and competent people, somewhere not too far below the surface, have a longing for someone who is bigger and stronger and better than we are, to come along and set things right, to set right the world, to save us from those forces that are too big for us to confront on our own, and to save us from ourselves. That's often what salvation entails. I believe if one follows that thread, that longing, it leads to Jesus Christ.
But we don't have any American myths, and we need them. America doesn't have its own Odyssey or Lord of the Rings. Do you think the comic book superheroes have maybe become our myths by default?
Comic books yes, and probably movies. Those would be the frontrunners for providing some kind of powerful story structure for Americans.
And those two mediums are working so well hand-in-hand right now.
They certainly are. Fantastic Four is on its way, of course. Iron Man is in the works. New Superman and Batman films are coming.
Did you see The Incredibles?
I was getting ready to ask if you had seen it. Yes, I think it is incredible! It's a delightful movie. And it's probably the sort of thing that ought to be happening more, on the comic book level as well, and that's creating entry points for younger readers to get into heroic fantasy and literature.
True, but The Incredibles didn't strike me as as much of a "kiddie" movie as Pixar's past stuff.
I agree. Pixar "grew up" with that one. I think kids will have great fun with it, but under all the joking around and the superpowers, there are some serious, real-life things in there. And of course that's what stories do, when they work. It doesn't ultimately matter if the story is about the lone gunman who rides into town, or the superhero who swoops down from the sky. The best stories put us in touch with what it means to be human and how we might better respond to some of those human struggles.
So, there's something that's missing in all of us when we're born, and these kinds of stories put us in touch with that?
I think so. Those stories give shape to our aspirations. They lift up what we might be or what we wish we could be. I think that's a good thing. I corresponded very briefly with Jerry Siegel, one of the co-creators of Superman. We passed a few letters back and forth a few years ago. And he was not at all surprised that I felt like reading Superman had in some measure instilled in me values that had stood me well over the years.
He said that he had heard that from a lot of people, stories about tying a towel or a tablecloth around one's neck and jumping off the porch. He said that in some strange way, this story instills in one a sense of heroism. Even if that heroism is lived out in very quiet ways -- taking care of an aging parent, or raising kids, or going to work every day to keep food on the table. I think there's a lot of heroism in life, all around us, and I think we have to learn that somewhere. I don't think that just pops up.
I agree, that's definitely a learned trait, and I don't think we're doing enough in this age and time to instill those values into people.
At the same time that we fill comic books and movie screens with heroes, there's also a kind of cynicysm about heroes these days. It may be one reason that comic books continue to be considered an infantile artform, because they are basically heroic literature. That's why it's nice to see a resurgence of such a wonderful work as Lord of the Rings. I hope that ten percent of people who saw the movie went back and read the books. That's very powerful stuff.
I'm very frustrated by comic books being referred to as children's entertainment.
It frustrates me too. I've done a number of radio interviews [about the book], and particularly on the Christian stations, there's a tendency for the interviewer to keep returning with incredulity to the fact that I'm a pastor who reads comic books. You can just hear the shock in their voices. And I confess, I don't quite get that.
I remember reading somewhere in the book -- it may have been in your bio -- how often you've gone back to movies and comic books to draw from for sermon illustrations. And that really struck me, because in so many churches and Christian circles, that is so unacceptable. It's like we're not supposed to draw spiritual truths from anything that was created by the world.
And that is a tragic misunderstanding of Christian proclamation. I think those comparisons can be done in a tasteless or thoughtless way. But gee, you look at the roots of Christian proclamation, and what do you find? You find Jesus picking things from secular culture to talk about. He said the Kingdom of God is like some fellow out sowing seed, or the Messiah is like a shepherd. And there's no inherent connection between a Messiah and a shepherd. But it works, because Jesus uses insight to connect a commonplace thing to help people understand a holy thing.
I think that the best Christian preaching is always following that model. You look at Paul in Athens in Acts 17, I think, and what does he do with these non-Jewish, non-Christian Athenians? He lifts up their architecture, he quotes their poets and their playwrights, he uses their authors, and uses all these completely un-Christian things to talk about Jesus Christ and the resurrection.
In the book, you mentioned how often when you were in a boring or unpleasant situation, and your mind would wander, and in your imagination you'd don that cap and soar off into the wild blue yonder...
I still do that. (Laughs.)
(Laughs.) I've heard that kind of escapism criticized at times by other Christians, who are concerned that "escaping" from real life issues can be bad for you.
I could mount so many replies to that. The first is to point to the playfulness of Jesus. You've got the disciples who want to make religion a very serious matter, and keep these little kids from bugging the Master, because he's got serious, "Kingdom" things to do. And what does Jesus say? "Bring these kids on! This is what I like to do. This is at the heart of what I'm about."
And that's not to mention the humor that pops up in Jesus' teachings. We've become jaded because we've heard this stuff again and again, but try to visualize someone actually trying to swallow a camel. It's bizarre and it'll crack you up.
That would make a great comic book image.
It would! I can just see it -- you'd have to start at one end and do it a little at a time. It's a bizarre image. Jesus throws that sort of stuff out and doesn't bat an eyelash. I think if we could get back to the original setting, and get rid of some of the familiarity that we bring to the text... I bet people were often smiling and laughing as Jesus preached. I bet he knew how to work a crowd.
And if that's not sufficient justification for Christians to have some fun with life, you can point to the creator. Look at a thing like a peacock or a duck-billed platypuss or a giraffe. Step back and look at these things -- this is God at work. This is a God who refused to make a mundane world.
The world is full of fanciful, beautiful things that needn't have been here. Except that God liked them. Why should leaves turn bright colors in the fall? They could just as easily fall off and stay green. Why does God do things like that? I think because God wants to enjoy the creation. All of this is meant to be a source of pleasure and joy for the creator. Should we not find pleasure and joy in the world around us as well? And people will argue, "Well, that's nature. That's not culture." I don't see the distinction, at least in this context.
I think it was Chesterton who said, "Joy is the surest sign of the presence of the Holy Spirit." Show me somebody sour-faced and dour, and I'll show you somebody who probably has an anemic spiritualtiy. I'm convinced of that.
I've said many times that I often feel as though when I'm writing fiction, that those are the times when I feel closest to God. Even though I'm not thinking directly about him, it's almost like I can feel him smiling on me, because I'm doing the thing I feel like I was put here to do.
That's right. I think it's that sense of being a conduit, and I don't mean anything too mystical by that. It's just that somehow one is in the flow of things. There's a spirit of creativity present that is bigger that oneself. Christians should have a marvelous theology of the arts. Madeleine L'Engle has done some great stuff with that thinking. But by and large, I'm disappointed with how the Christian community approaches the arts.
Oh, I really really agree, but ... that's a whole other two or three hour conversation right there.
(Laughs.)
One thing that I really appreciated about the book is that it's very educational about comic book characters. Even if you've never read comics before, it's totally readable. I've read lots of comics, but even I learned plenty of things about these characters that I didn't know. You really did your homework on this, and it shows. I learned things I didn't know about Iron Man, Thor, Wonder Woman...
One reason I know more about Iron Man than you do is, I've been around a long time! (Laughs.) I'm fifty years old. I've got at least forty years of reading time logged in on comic books.
How many comic books do you own?
Somewhere upwards of ten thousand.
Wow. Where on earth do you keep them all?
If you asked my wife that, she would say, "Everywhere."
(Laughs.)
(Laughs.) I have a room that I call the "batcave," that has a great big oak desk and a computer. And the walls are covered with pages of original comic art and fantasy art and convention sketches and odds & ends. Everything else is books. One long wall is covered with shelves that hold boxes that contain bagged comic books. And they've spilled off the shelves; there are now stacks on the floor. And some of them are in the basement, in dry places.
Frankly, collecting stamps is beginning to look like a good alternative.
(Laughs.)
(Laughs.) But I love them. The odds on my re-reading most of these are unlikely. But I can pull out a storyline and think about how I know where I was when I read that, and I can remember how it affected me at the time. That's a powerful thing.
Probably made research for your book a lot easier, too.
I have to be honest: this was an embarrassingly easy book for me to write.
(Laughs.)
It just was. I've got a doctoral degree in theology, so hopefully I've got some grasp of that by now. I forget birthdays and where I'm supposed to be at four o'clock, but I have a head for comic books and secret identities and superpowers and such. I did pull out the occasional issue to double-check or to get a quote or something.
It would be nice to be able to say that "I labored selflessly over the research for this book," but it wouldn't be true. There are probably other folks in the world who are as well equipped to write that book as I am, but there may not be anybody better equipped, just given who I am and where I've been.
It certainly makes you unique as a pastor.
You know, I didn't know that I would hear [so much] from readers. People have apparently found the church website and have been emailing me through that address.
Oh, sure. I found the church website when I was researching. It's not that hard.
Well, I wouldn't have thought of it. I'm not a hi-tech, online kind of guy. But I'm hearing from these folks, and what I'm hearing is, "Gee, this book is fun." And, "Gee, this stuff really does hold some lessons for Christianity." And the other comment I'm hearing more than anything else is, "I picked this book up, unsure about it, but I'm so glad you turned out to be a real comic fan. You're not just somebody jumping on a bandwagon." Folks are saying, "I could tell within a few pages that you really know this stuff and you love it." I'm glad that comes across.
Oh yeah, that joy definitely comes across, and I think that's what makes it so much fun to read. Who did you write this book for?
Certainly for folks who are Christians and have read comic books. But I'd love to see this book go beyond youth groups and Sunday school classes, and into the hands of some folks in the world who maybe have never heard a sympathetic, upbeat presentation of what Jesus was about. That would be very exciting to me.
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Posted by Chuck Pope
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12:48 AM Monday, 15 November 2004 |
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I thought I had this book pegged fifty pages into it. It was one of those supernatural thriller stories, right? Wrong. Fifty pages later I realized it was more one of those take-down-the-evil-multinational-corporation stories, right? Wrong again. As I continued to read I thought it was, at one time or another, a stolen identity story, a love story, or a team of unlikely heroes story. I kept throwing labels out but none of them stuck. Defeated, I resigned myself to actually reading the book, and I'm grateful I did. The premise of Soul Tracker is simple: When a man receives what seems to be a message from his daughter he sets out to find her. There's only one problem. His daughter died weeks ago. Now, the father will stop at nothing to contact his daughter again. Although, this kind of story isn't uncommon, what makes Soul Tracker unique is not the story itself, but the way the story is told. This is a book that refuses to fall into any nice and neat little category, it defies classification. The book does resemble Myers' earlier works and fans of his earlier novels will see plenty in common. The supernatural elements of Threshold are here, as are the mystery and adventure elements of Blood of Heaven and the depth of spirituality in Eli. One could say that all of his previous work has allowed Bill Myers to write Soul Tracker. But, what results is something at once familiar and altogether different. The novel opens with the lingering anguish of the David Kauffman over his daughter's death. He feels responsible for what happened to her and keeps replaying their last days together. David forms an unlikely partnership with Gita Patekar an Indian doctor studying death, and the departure of the soul from the body. Soon, the two begin to unravel a sinister conspiracy with far-reaching implications. At the same time, the characters struggle with their perceptions of death, truth, and God. As their own lives are threatened, David and Gita must find answers before time runs out. One of my favorite things about the novel is that it isn't afraid to be emotional. David's struggle with his daughter's death and Gita's abuse as a child isn't glossed over. The author embraces his characters' inner turmoil. The readers can tangibly feel the characters' pain and better understand the actions those characters take. But if you prefer more action then you don't have to worry. Hang on, because once Myers gets going, you could lose some serious sleep. Tension ratchets higher and higher as the pages go by. Myers increases the scope of the story while at the same time focusing it ever closer to David's struggle. If stories thrive on conflict and then this story certainly has plenty to thrive on: characters vs. the enemy, characters vs. each other, and most importantly characters vs. themselves. The story is never at a loss to keep you reading because of one of the conflicts will always pull you just a page further. Granted, this isn't the kind of compulsive reading found in a Ted Dekker book where you absolutely must finish the next chapter or you'll die. This is reading that invites you, rather than compels you, to turn the page. The plot is not the only thing to keep you reading, though. The author also deftly weaves in spiritual elements into the story. Christian writers often fall prey to one of two pitfalls: Either they write a regular story with slight tinges of Christianity that really have nothing to do with the plot, or they write a novel so consumed with its own message that it feels like a theology lesson inside a Trojan horse. Myers, along with Randy Alcorn, is one of the few writers that can tell a compelling story without shying away from legitimate spiritual struggles. In Soul Tracker, the reader is forced to grapple with the problems of truth vs. grace, of life after death, and with the possibility of contacting the departed. Of course, readers will not all agree with the conclusions Myers draws but they will be forced to engage the topics. Anyone that has read Myers before knows that he is a very visual writer. His previous work in film has taught the author the power of images. Nowhere in the novel is this more evident than in the final pages that have characters literally rushing toward the light at the end of the tunnel... and beyond. What follows in those pages is so vivid that the reader will be left will indelible images long after the book is closed. Myer's prose can make you feel the ground shake, the wind rush by, and the sound of a thousand voices echo in your ear. In an era where it's often hip to rely on lots of dialogue and minimal description, it's refreshing to be able to "see" again an author's vision again. Of course, the book isn't perfect. Myers throws in a lot of elements that feel recycled, and although he's able to give a fresh vision for some, other elements come off as a bit tired. This is especially glaring when an unlikely band of character have to work together to achieve a goal for the good of everyone (sound a bit too familiar?). Some of the loose ends of the story never get tied up and may frustrate some readers. But, I believe that this may be intentional. Myers may very well be setting up a new series, but readers will have to wait and see. Years ago I went to a Young Writers Institute taught by Bill Myers. At the time, I liked to read but had never considered writing. Since that time I've (often unconsciously) analyzed everything I've read and fallen deeper in love with the art of writing. Even before the conference I loved Bill Myers' children's books and as my reading has matured, so have Bill Myers' novels. Soul Tracker provides a treat for previous fans of the author, but also a fitting introduction to those unfamiliar with his work. I'd recommend the book to anyone, initiated or not. But, be careful to check your expectations at the door... It's not what you think it is. |
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Posted by Karri Compton
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09:59 PM Sunday, 07 November 2004 |
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What I thought I would get from reading this book: a nice history lesson on Bulgaria's part in World War II and the plight of the Jews. What I actually got from reading this book: an in-depth look at King Boris III of Bulgaria and his precarious position, as well as suspenseful fictional story lines nicely blended with the facts.I've never seen a writer take a factual account and turn it into a piece of fiction without obliterating the truth. But Beazely and Lemmons have miraculously pulled it off. King's Ransom is set during Bulgaria's reluctant membership in Hitler's alliance during World War II. Forced into joining Hitler or facing the Russian Communists, King Boris sides with Hitler and finds himself faced with tough decisions. Almost instantly, he sees the true colors of many of his cabinet members, creating strife from within and without. The writers stay on historical track while giving a deep insight into what makes Boris tick. Throw in other government members trying to kiss up to the Germans and a brave secretary with a good conscience, and you have some fascinating factual history. Then there's the "not-so-historical" part. Daria is a Jewish nanny for King Boris' two children, and an extended member of the royal family. Dobri is a member of the King's Royal Guard -- loyal soldier and secret admirer of Daria. Underneath the storylines about the war and the "Jewish Question," there's a wonderful romance between Daria and Dobri, which morphs from getting to know their hearts, to heroic rescues. Beazely and Lemmons utilize these two characters to touch us emotionally and give us eyes behind the scenes of Bulgaria's quest to protect its Jewish population. Daria resembles the Biblical Esther at times, but is very much a unique character. I was shocked to find out after reading the book that Dobri was a real person -- thank God for the authors' "Letter to the Reader" at the end, deciphering who was real and who was not. Side stories include a zealous Orthodox priest not afraid to speak out against the Reich's horrendous treatment of the Jews; a secretary/lover of the man trying to manipulate Bulgaria's compliance with the Nazi's Jewish Question; and a Jewish tobacco expert forced to leave his job and home. Each of these is used brilliantly to guide the reader through history and reveal the emotions felt from various perspectives. The real gems in King's Ransom are the realized mettle of King Boris, and Daria and Dobri's intimate portrait within the chaos. Beazely and Lemmons have shown, in a very human way, the horror and fear thrust upon the world by Hitler's deranged agenda and the weight of responsibility for a King who loves all of his people. I walked away realizing I had not read a history book, but a love story in every aspect. Read King's Ransom to get to know its characters. Read it to be drawn in emotionally. Read it to understand the oppression of the Jews during the run of the Reich. Read it to learn more history. Whatever your reason, you'll be glad you picked it up. |
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Posted by Matthew Winslow
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12:42 AM Monday, 01 November 2004 |
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With the first book in her new trilogy, Sharon Gilbert bursts out of the gate with a talent for making you feel good, scared, on the edge of your seat, and dying for more. Winds of Evil introduces us to the characters, plot, and sub-plots of a spiritual thriller that will surely endure. Katherine Adamson is a world-renowned fiction novelist who returns home to her small Indiana hometown after receiving word that the aunt who raised her has passed away. Of course, Katherine brings some baggage along with, such as a broken relationship with a secretly married man and a drought in her creative writing. Once back home in Eden, she quickly realizes everything has changed for the worst, except for a few old relationships. One of those friendships is with her tried-and-true, faithful-as-ever former boyfriend, Joshua Carpenter. Katy (as her friends call her) is greeted with news that two teenage sweethearts have mysteriously gone missing. Weird, UFO-like lights have appeared in the sky leaving blackened circles on the crops below. As if that's not enough, Eden's hospital is churning out births of extra-large babies -- which add to the town's surging population. Throw in some successful business people in league with the devil and some mysterious, shadowy demons, and you've got perfect Halloween-time fare. |
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