Storm Prey, by John Sandford

It’s true enough that John Sandford’s Prey series of mystery/thrillers is getting a little long in the tooth. Anyone who compares the early books with the later ones (like Storm Prey) will immediately notice that the hero, Minnesota state policeman Lucas Davenport, is now a very different man from the younger millionaire-cop who was so good at hunting down psycho killers because he was a borderline psycho himself. Today Lucas is a happy husband and father, generally purged of his personal devils.

But author John Sandford (actually John Camp) knows there are more ways to engage the reader than train-wreck psychological voyeurism. In Storm Prey, Lucas’ wife, surgeon Weather Karkinnen, is involved in the high-risk separation of a pair of Siamese twins when she happens to see a particular Emergency Room doctor in a part of the hospital where he doesn’t properly belong. She thinks nothing of it at the time, but when the drug theft that doctor has plotted goes sour and a hospital worker is murdered, the doctor and his accomplices hire a sociopathic skinhead called Cappy to murder her. Fortunately he fails in the first attempt. But Weather refuses to go into protective custody until the surgery (delayed due to heart problems in one of the twins) is completed. So Davenport and his team set up around the clock protection for her while trying to identify and locate the criminals. By engaging our sympathy for the twins and their family along with our concern for Weather’s safety, Sandford expertly keeps the dramatic tension at a high level. A typically nasty stretch of Minnesota winter weather doesn’t make things any easier either. Continue reading Storm Prey, by John Sandford

Movie review: A Somewhat Gentle Man

What do you do when you’re recovering at home from a medical test, still under the influence of a mild sedative, and have stupidly left your Kindle at the office?

If you’re me (which is admittedly doubtful) you go to Netflix and stream a Norwegian movie you’ve heard interesting things about. That movie was A Somewhat Gentle Man, directed by Hans Petter Moland and starring Swedish actor Stellan Starsgård (in a marvelously underacted performance).

Titled En Ganske Snill Mann in Norwegian (I’d have translated it A Rather Nice Man myself, but this translation is good), A Somewhat Gentle Man was marketed as a “hilarious” comedy according to the DVD box. I think it’s more of a quirky, updated Noir, including large doses of black humor. Instead of the angular shadows of classic Noir, this is a Film Gris. The whole world of Ulrik, the film’s antihero, is gray, from the gray Norwegian winter sky, to the gray concrete buildings of Oslo’s seedier side, to the gray basement room he rents (almost indistinguishable from the prison cell from which he’s just been released) to his gray clothing and gray hair. Occasional flashes of color, especially red, compel the eye and signal moments of hope in his life.

Freshly released after 12 years’ incarceration for murder, Ulrik quickly reunites with his old underworld buddies. But he’s not eager to go along with their plan for him, which primarily involves his killing the man whose testimony got him convicted. Basically he wants a quiet life, to work as a mechanic and avoid confrontations (he’s almost quintessentially Norwegian in this). Most of all he wants to reconnect with his son, who is now living with a pregnant girlfriend who has no wish to have a felon grandfather involved in her coming child’s life.

As is expected in such stories, sex is a complicating issue. Ulrik’s sexual encounters are relatively explicit, and possibly the least titillating you’ll ever see on film. The whole movie has a gritty, realistic look. The women generally aren’t very beautiful, and Ulrik’s participation is as often as not merely dutiful, to avoid giving offense. His old and ugly landlady acts as if she’s doing him a favor. He’s more enthusiastic about coupling with the secretary at the garage, from whom he’s been warned off by the owner (who speaks only in paragraphs, and very fast).

In all these relations Ulrik takes a passive role, until his refusal to murder the “snitch” for his gangster buddies forces him to take personal initiative, which—not surprising in a modern film—brings about what we’re meant to regard as a happy resolution. I share James Bowman of The American Spectator‘s skepticism about the moral congruity of the ending.

Do I recommend the movie? Not generally. Certainly not to younger viewers, or to anyone offended by foul language, nudity and sex scenes (especially unappealing nudity and sex), or violence. Still, if you care for this sort of thing, and are interesting in seeing a quirky take on classic themes, A Somewhat Gentle Man contains much of interest.

My Fear Lady by Rick Dewhurst



A few years ago, the purveyors of crime, the crimemongers of the world, came face to face with Vancouver’s self-absorbed detective, Joe LaFlam, in the book, Bye Bye Bertie. Joe has returned for another attempt to steer an unsuspecting babe away from her potentially crime-laced life and to get the real bad guys. My Fear Lady picks up where the first novel left off. Joe is unfortunately wealthy, driving a limousine while he pursues pedestrians, and the wicked cabal of soon-to-be world dominators, Spelunkers Global, has kidnapped some innocent young man in order to keep him from his girlfriend. None of that, however, is enough to distract Joe from worrying about being afflicted with celibacy, mentoring his older collegues, and how he can save the world and his family’s fortune.

There are many things going for this story, but there are several things going against it too. It’s funny, and many plot points are well written. The conclusion is perfect, but getting there is a bit of a long. If Joe’s mental ramblings get old too soon, the story will drag. The story pokes fun at many pop Christian ideas as well, so you may have a sacred cow BBQ somewhere here. Overall, I thought the story could use more complication and more straight-forward humor. I appreciate Rick sending me this book, and I wish him the very best.

Warm and woozy

It is over 80 degrees outside. 80 degrees. I ought to have the air conditioning on, but blast it, you’re supposed to go through a stage where you can have the windows open a while before full-on summer comes. So I’m holding out.

The “procedure” went fine today. Unfortunately we didn’t learn anything new. So I expect there will be further tests, and eventually I’ll have to see Doctor House, who will torture me and insult my faith until I get better.

For now I’m pleasantly buzzed, and I can eat again. Could be worse.

Whitestone: Blood On My Name

This is worth passing on. Whitestone Motion Pictures presents Blood On My Name, a short film musical narrative in the style of Americana folklore. This is a good short story. These are also the people who created the short film, The Candy Shop, which focuses on child exploitation. Though Blood On My Name is described as a bit of a horror story (it’s barely that), The Candy Shop portrays pure evil.

Of diversity and my digestion

The Festival of Nations was mostly four days of sitting around for me, tooling leather bookmarks and wrist bands and occasionally selling someone a book. Nevertheless, I came out of it exhausted. The reasons, I think, are two.

One, it was an overdose of humanity for an introvert. Attendance was smaller this year than last (a mixture of the bad economy and the first nice weather in weeks, we think), but even so there were times when the crowds were insane, the babble overwhelming. Especially when kids were blowing those little ceramic bird whistles they sell, which emit a piercing warble.

I know multicultural festivals are supposed to bring us together and remind us how much we all have in common, but I’m not convinced the final result isn’t to remind us how different we all are, and to make us wonder how we’re ever going to get along with people who dress like that. (But that might just have been my mood.)

A young boy in our group reported speaking to one of the vendors, who was selling a marionette he designed himself. When told people were complaining that his puppet fell apart after two days, he replied that that was indeed a product failure. “It’s supposed to fall apart in one day.”

I hope, for all our sakes, that the bird whistles also fall apart after a day. Otherwise I suspect there will be an uptick in child abuse by parents all around the metropolitan area.

The other reason I was exhausted, it turns out, was that I’m anemic again. I had some tests done, and found out today (to my great relief) that I don’t have celiac disease, and so will not have to give up all breads and grain products. But I’m now scheduled to go in tomorrow for the Test That Dare Not Speak Its Name. Which means I’ll be doing things tonight no guy as tired as I am should have to do. Tomorrow I’ll be flying on Valium (which I like to think of as my reward for getting through tonight), but I’ll post something—possibly something coherent—if I can.

How Kermit the Frog May Save an Author

Jeffrey Overtreet write about finding inspiration in The Muppet Movie and his strong identification with the crisis point in the plot.

You can try to stir the writer’s life and the self-marketer’s life together, but they’re oil and water. Publishers sent me a guide detailing what “successful” authors do: Build websites about themselves. Create their own fan clubs on Facebook. Pursue their own endorsements. Volunteer to blog on “influential” websites. Organize readings, book-signings, and giveaways.

Following instructions, I feel I’m standing on a street corner wearing a sandwich board with my picture on it and shouting, “I’m awesome! Go tell everyone I’m awesome!”

The Bookseller as Publisher and Vice Versa

Amazon is developing an opportunities to publish books, which it has been doing for a couple years, and some major publishers have announced their plan to sell books and e-books directly. Some of this may be reinventing the wheel, but haven’t some people made a lot of money reinventing things? I think they have.

A C.S. Lewis Conversation

Alan Jacobs, ND Wilson, and Doug Wilson in conversation | Full Edition from Canon Wired on Vimeo.

Authors Alan Jacobs (The Narnian: the Life and Imagination of C. S. Lewis), N.D. Wilson (100 Cupboards series), and Doug Wilson (Is Christianity Good for the World?) talk about C.S. Lewis.

50 Best Western Literature Blogs

Here’s the makeup of a great blogroll: 50 Best Western Literature Blogs. To leave you with no doubt, these are lit-blogs written by 50 people staying in Best Western hotels throughout the U.S. Essential reading, friends. Next up, 40 Super 8 Films Blogs. (via Books, Inq.)

Book Reviews, Creative Culture