The Moonlit Mind, by Dean Koontz


Sanctuary can be found in that kind of church—whether Baptist or otherwise—in which, on Sundays, rollicking gospel songs are sung with gusto and booming piano. Churches in which Latin is sometimes spoken, candles are lit for the intention of the dead, incense is sometimes burned, and fonts of holy water stand at the entrances—those are also secure. Synagogues are good refuges too.

Here’s a nice little slice of pure Dean Koontz. The Moonlit Mind, a novella available cheap for your Kindle, has many elements that will be no surprise coming from Koontz—a precocious child on the run from an abusive situation (here occult ritual abuse), a dog possessing preternatural wisdom, and helpless innocence pitted against powerful evil.

The story is told in two narrative threads—the present, in which twelve-year-old Crispin lives in hiding in an unnamed city, his only friends his dog Harley (who finds him money to live on), and Amity, another person in hiding, a girl who lives inside a local department store.

The second thread is the back story, in which we slowly learn how Crispin, along with his younger brother and sister, was raised in great luxury in a mysterious mansion, and how his siblings disappeared one after the other, as Crispin gradually came to realize a horrible truth…

Good story. Excellent writing. Endearing (and horrifying) characters. Apparently The Moonlit Mind is a teaser for a longer book coming up, 77 Shadow Street, which will involve the same city.

Recommended for teens and older.

Do A Few Reviewers Have Too Much Influence?

To the Best of Our Knowledge, a show from Wisconsin Public Radio, had a great program last Sunday on the influence reviewers from New York and Los Angeles have on national readers. They ask, “Do you ever get the feeling that everyone’s reading all the same books and listening to all the same music, and seeing all the same films?” They talk to a few good people who have opinions on that, mostly Wisconsin people oddly enough.

Link sausage, March 12, 2012

It’s suddenly spring in Minnesota. Today was cloudy and drizzly, but it was up in the 60s, I think, and the only snow left on my property is a couple tiny icebergs in the northeast shadow of my house. They’re talking temperatures up to 70 later in the week.

I predict more snow, though. This is March. March is not to be trusted. Even April is best handled with one hand on your wallet.

Kevin Holstberry at Collected Miscellany reviews Troll Valley. Thanks, Kevin.

I received a beautiful (considering the subject matter) pencil drawing of me in Viking garb in the mail Saturday. It was from artist Emily Chesley, who’s the daughter of old friends. I’ll scan it to show you, eventually, but my scanner’s down at the moment.

Also on Saturday, I did some heavy-duty proofreading on Hailstone Mountain. This is, by the way, the longest book I’ve ever written, so it will be a while before you have the pleasure of downloading it.

On Sunday I went over to a Viking friend’s house, and helped him upgrade his fighting helmet with a reinforced nasal. Came out nice, too. Rather gratifying.

Ruining Sex

Our friend, Hunter Baker, points to an interesting interview with Raquel Welch, which ends on how our sex-saturated culture is ruining sex for most of us. “I just imagine them sitting in front of their computers, completely annihilated.” It’s curious that the interviewer says she may come across like a prude, as if that’s one of the worst positions one could be in.

In the Spirit of Freedom, You Should Be Ashamed

James Taranto describes how the public discourse over Rush Limbaugh’s characterization of Sandra Fluke’s argument before Congress has spawned a “meta-kerfuffle” among professors. One prof praises Limbaugh’s argument, while detracting from the two words he apologized for, and his university’s president scolded him, both in print.

“I am outraged that any professor would demean a student in this fashion,” Seligman writes. “To openly ridicule, mock, or jeer a student in this way is about the most offensive thing a professor can do.”

The implication is that by treating Fluke with disrespect, Landsburg has behaved unethically. That’s bunk… Seligman’s shot at Landsburg is the equivalent of saying it is unethical for any physician to criticize Fluke’s political activism because she is a “patient.”

The effect of President Seligam’s argument may be to squash the freedom of thought and speech of students and profs without tenure. It’s happened before, he says, over just this type of argument.

Troll Valley gets noticed

Our friend Frank Luke was kind enough to review Troll Valley for the men’s magazine of the Assemblies of God Church. You can read the review online here.

From what he says, it seems like a remarkable book. I’m not sure I recognize it, though.

Also, Joe Carter included Troll Valley in his occasional list of cheap Christian e-books, over at Touchstone Magazine’s Mere Comments blog.

Have a good weekend!

Voskamp’s Unknown Bestseller

For 30 weeks Ann Voskamp’s book has earned a place on the New York Times bestseller list – and her neighbors don’t have a clue. People at her church found out only because the pastor shared his congratulations.”

This is a warm story about a wonderful lady (from what I can tell at this distance) who has written a stirring book on living under the mighty hand of God. It’s One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are. Recommended.

The Original Sam McCain Mysteries, by Ed Gorman

I like to think I gave Ed Gorman a fair shake. He’s honest enough to admit his political leanings (liberal), but he makes a genuine effort to humanize his characters, even those awful Republicans. I have to give him credit for that. He tries. But I didn’t like this second book (actually two books; it’s a double volume) of his that I’ve read, and I don’t think I’ll read any more. The Original Sam McCain Mysteries fails, in my view, for two reasons. One is an inadequate main character. The other is, if not a plain political lie, at least a definite—and surely conscious—misstatement of historical fact.

First of all the main character. As the title suggests, he’s a guy named Sam McCain. Gorman gives what seems to be his inspiration for the character in a passage where McCain meditates on his favorite mystery writer, the pre-Travis McGee John D. MacDonald:

There are no heroes in John D. novels, and that’s probably why I like them. Every once in a while his man will behave heroically, but that still doesn’t make him a hero. He has a lot of faults and he always realizes, at some point in every book, that he’s flawed and less than he wants to be.

If Gorman’s goal was to create a character who isn’t heroic, he’s succeeded. Sam McCain is a short young man, a poor lawyer in a small Iowa town in the mid-1950s, forced by penury to do jobs for the local judge, an elitist woman who delights in humiliating him in small ways. He talks a lot about his love for the town beauty, who is herself in love with a rich guy. Meanwhile another girl, apparently just as pretty and with more personal substance, loves Sam and he doesn’t reciprocate. In this he’s clearly an idiot.

He’s also a punching bag. People beat him up a lot in these stories, and he just endures it. When he finally overcomes the murderers, he ought to be grateful to the God he claims not to believe in, because without a deus ex machina or two he’d be long dead. I think he won one fight in the second book. Continue reading The Original Sam McCain Mysteries, by Ed Gorman