"Writing for others is a privilege."

Kevin DeYoung talks about a pastor’s responsibilities and possible conflicts with writing books and articles. Among other good thoughts, he says, “I’m glad I read Martyn Lloyd-Jones before I ever wrote a book because I can hear the Doctor in the back of my head saying, ‘The pastor is first of all a preacher and not a writer.’ There is nothing wrong with being a writer first, but that’s simply not the calling of a pastor.”

He notes what a wonderful privilege it is for people to read anything you’ve written, which is a good reason for a writer to get over himself.

On a related note, Miles Mullin writes about contemporary tribalism among evangelicals. “This is the troubling reality of the personality-based leadership that encompasses much of American evangelicalism. Often, charisma and dynamic communication skills trump character and integrity as popular appeal wins the day,” he observes. Like fans of sports teams who argue over purely subjective judgements, fans of preachers and writers defend their leaders against any accusation, sometimes even against obvious sins.

'Three War Stories' by David Mamet


I do not understand that discipline called “Ethnography,” which seems to me the validation of a prejudice by means of an excursion.

One can no more understand the operation of other cultures from observation than can one so understand the sexual act.

Observation, in the case of each, is missing the point, and Ethnography, or “Anthropology,” rests on a false assumption: that one may be free of prejudice.

Hugh Hewitt interviewed David Mamet, the legendary playwright who has recently “come out” as a conservative, a couple weeks ago. They were discussing this book, Three War Stories. They concentrated on the first story of this collection, The Redwing, which Mamet described as a novella dually inspired by George MacDonald Fraser’s Flashman books and Patrick O’Brien’s seafaring novels. So naturally I had to buy it.

This is one of those profound, densely packed works that probably ought to be read multiple times, and I’ve only read it once. But I enjoyed it, particularly the iconoclastic elements, which are many. I’m just not sure I entirely grasp the themes.

The Redwing is a very complex story, ostensibly narrated by a former sailor, galley slave, and spy who later became the author of popular novels based on his own adventures. He does not tell his story directly, but as a series of commentaries on his books, with which he assumes the reader is already familiar. So we have to piece his real story together, in non-chronological fashion. Thus we’re dealing with a story on numerous levels – “factual” (though fictional) notes on a fictional work, based on supposedly factual events. This allows the author to play with the problems of the veteran who has a need to tell his story, but not all of it. He protects his country, first by risking his life, and then by concealing part of the truth from it.

Notes on Plains Warfare is an examination (which I thought extremely apt) of the dynamics of a war in which one side had a strong moral case, superior tactics, and greater resolve, but was crushed by an opponent simply more numerous, technologically superior, and more pragmatic. It is presented in the form of another memoir, by an American army survivor.

The last story, The Handle and the Hold, is a more matter-of-fact story, a little more linear than the other two, about two Jewish friends, a cop and a gangster, who join together to do a secret mission for Israel shortly after the end of World War II.

Definitely worth reading, but more work than the fiction I usually review. Cautions for language and mature subject matter.

'The Hunger Games' Is Flawed and Other Stories

  1. N.D. Wilson, an author more of us should be reading, explains the fundamental flaws in The Hunger Games. Self-sacrifice? Not hardly. “Revolutions,” he says, “are not started by teen girls suicide-pacting with cute baker boys. Oppressive regimes are not threatened by people who do what they are told.”
  2. George Eliot writes, “And when we stood at length and parted amid that columnar circuit of the forest trees, beneath the last twilight of starless skies, I seemed to be gazing … on a sanctuary with no Presence to hallow it, and heaven left lonely of a God.” She is being quoted in this brief post on art without God and what that means for morality.
  3. A father of boys and girls talks about their roles in the world as informed by Star Wars and other movies. There are many problems with his brief presention, which I’m sure a worldview class could pick apart for a month, but I think he asks some good questions and makes a fair point. What is a girl to take away from watching Star Wars? Hope the boys fight well so she can reward them in the end? What should a boy take away from that movie? That he must fight to win and get the girl in the end? (And to touch on one problem with this presentation, may I ask why I should assume patriarchy is wrong? Is it that men are mostly wrong?)

Brooks-Prosperity

'Mad River' by John Sandford

“He sort of looked mean, but in a hygienic, Minnesota way.”

Just recently I reviewed John Sandford’s more recent Virgil Flowers novel, Storm Front, and noted that that book’s light tone, and the fact that nobody got killed in it, typified the less serious quality of the Flowers books, as compared to Sandford’s hugely successful Prey novels.

After reading

Thanksgiving 2013



“Home to Thanksgiving” by Currier & Ives, 1867

“He who sits by the fire, thankless for the fire, is just as if he had no fire. Nothing is possessed save in appreciation, of which thankfulness is the indispensable ingredient.” (W.J. Cameron)

I’ve used that quotation for Thanksgiving before, but it was a long time ago. On the old web site, I think. Anyway, I like it.

It occurred to me today how closely thankfulness is connected to faith. One of the most common hindrances to faith—at least in my experience—is worry about the future. “Things are all right just now,” I say to myself, “but what about tomorrow? Being thankful feels too much like complacency. I have to keep my eye out for what’s coming down the road.”

This is one reason, I suppose, why Jesus tells us to cast no thought upon the morrow. Worry kills thankfulness, and lack of thankfulness destroys our spiritual perspective.

So have a blessed Thanksgiving. I hope you spend it with people you love. Or, alternatively, that you love the people you’re spending it with.

Get Rich By Reading Fiction

And eating sweet rolls, Ho-Hos, and Ding-Dongs. Just watch your fingers on those pages.

Jeremy Olshan gives us advice on making money found in great novels. “Don’t expect, however, to find explicit tips on spending, saving and investing baked into the texts like messages in fortune cookies. Novelists and dramatists seem suspicious if not disdainful of those who dole out advice about money — which is perhaps why, when they do offer worthwhile personal-finance counsel, the words tend to be put into the mouths of imbeciles.”

Here are his gleanings:

  1. Read Defoe to understand money. In Robinson Crusoe, the narrator finds a drawer full of gold while searching his ship’s wreckage. “I smiled to myself at the sight of this money: ‘O drug!’ said I, aloud, ‘what art thou good for? Thou art not worth to me, no, not the taking off the ground; one of those knives is worth all this heap; I have no manner of use for thee; e’en remain where thou art, and go to the bottom as a creature whose life is not worth saving.’ However, upon second thoughts, I took it away.”
  2. Read Trollope and Dickens to spot the next Bernie Madoff. “Rereading these Victorian novels,” Olshan writes, “I’ve been struck, in a way that never occurred to me in high school or college, by how often the plots turn on bad financial decisions.”
  3. Read Eliot and Flaubert before swiping that credit card. “Emma Bovary isn’t brought down by cheating on her doctor husband but by racking up ruinous amounts of debt.”
  4. Read Dickens to learn the difference between saving and hoarding.
  5. Read Tolstoy before heading to the car dealership. “The old poker player’s adage that if, after a few minutes at the table, you can’t tell who the sucker is, it’s you, is more or less true in every financial transaction.”

Photos: How Books Are Made

Irene Gallo, an art director with Tor Books, went to their press building in Gettysburg, PA, to see A Memory of Light (Wheel of Time, Book 14) being printed and bound. “The whole process looked like a marvelous bit of Suessian-magic to me, with long conveyer belts that doubled up and looped around,” she says. (via Loren Eaton)

Speaking of Mr. Eaton, his 2013 Advent Ghost Storytelling is up.

'The Spirit Well' by Stephen Lawhead


“Okay,” she agreed, turning her eyes to the valley, lost in a blue haze of morning mist. “I don’t know about you, but my life has ceased to have linear chronology.”

This is the book I’m so proud of — the first book I borrowed electronically from the public library for my Kindle, thus dragging myself, kicking and screaming, into the 21st Century. The Spirit Well by Stephen Lawhead, third in his ongoing Bright Empires series. I’ve enjoyed the previous books, and I enjoyed this one, once I’d acclimated myself to it. Which is a bit of a challenge. It’s hard enough picking up a sequel to a book you read a year ago; it’s worse when the book purposely messes with time lines and has a large (and growing) cast of characters.

The central character of the series is Kit Livingstone, who was initiated by his late uncle into the art of jumping around in space and time (and alternate universes) through the use of “ley lines” – geographical locations that focus cosmic forces (or something like that). There are also the adventures of his former girlfriend Mina, who got stranded in 16th Century Prague but did quite well for herself, thank you very much, as well as various descendants of Arthur Flinders-Petrie, an archaeologist who had a map of the ley lines tattooed onto his torso, which is now preserved in what is called the Skin Map, for which good guys and bad guys are desperately searching.

Good stuff. I’m not sure whether I recommend reading these books now, though, or waiting for all five to be published so you can read them in a string and reduce continuity difficulties. Whatever you do, read them in sequence.

I note that Lawhead includes several positive Roman Catholic characters here, so he seems to have gotten over the contemptuous anti-Catholicism that was apparent in some of his earlier books. I also noted, with surprise, some problems in word choice – at one point he uses the word “approbation” to mean the opposite of what it really means. He also has a male character speak of “humankind” rather than “mankind” in a scene in the early 20th Century. This isn’t impossible, but it seems anachronistic.

Still, good stuff, and I think Lawhead is better in this sort of genre than in epic fantasy. Recommended.