The Next Chapter
by Bryn Jones
Bryn Jones started following me on Twitter, so I started following him back and checking out some of the books he's written. All are available on Kindle, generally for quite an affordable price. The Next Chapter is the third and first full-length story of his that I've read.
The premise, as stated in the Amazon summary, is that an author who has recently endured a family tragedy has become embroiled in a kidnapping and probable murder of a young girl. The kidnapper forces Sal to write the next chapter, ultimately ending (the kidnapper hopes) in murder. At the same time, a police officer, fresh from tragic events of his own, is slowly tying the kidnapping to kidnappings from decades earlier--as the bodies of those young women begin appearing, staged to match Sal's novels.
Jones writes Christian fiction in a subtle way. His books are certainly not "Amish fiction," nor are they pretty and all tied up in the end. While some of them have allegorical elements, most seem to match the every-day struggles many Christians face as they try to live out faith in a world that poses more questions than answers. The Next Chapter is certainly one of these. And, while some portions felt trite or "neat" or a bit far fetched, I think Jones wrote a clever story with a fast pace and characters for whom I wanted to root.
Friday, December 28, 2012
Book Nineteen
Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter
by Tom Franklin
In Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter, Franklin writes with what can only be the authenticity of someone who grew up in the south and, in spite of its complicated history and equally-complicated present, loves that land. While Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter is, on one level a mystery, on a much deeper level, I feel like it is a love letter to the complexity of growing up in the racially-tense south.
Where Silas (a black boy) and Larry (a white boy) and Cindy (a white girl) interact as children and again as adults, Franklin's prose carefully details a world where right isn't always right and wrong is certainly just as hard to understand. This is a novel of mistakes and consequences and hatred and love and friendship and family and redemption. It was a quick read, and I loved every word of it.
by Tom Franklin
In Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter, Franklin writes with what can only be the authenticity of someone who grew up in the south and, in spite of its complicated history and equally-complicated present, loves that land. While Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter is, on one level a mystery, on a much deeper level, I feel like it is a love letter to the complexity of growing up in the racially-tense south.
Where Silas (a black boy) and Larry (a white boy) and Cindy (a white girl) interact as children and again as adults, Franklin's prose carefully details a world where right isn't always right and wrong is certainly just as hard to understand. This is a novel of mistakes and consequences and hatred and love and friendship and family and redemption. It was a quick read, and I loved every word of it.
Friday, December 14, 2012
In Response to Another Tragedy
On my way home from picking my daughter up from school this afternoon, I felt compelled to sit down when I got home and put some thoughts on paper. As I opened my computer, I came across something a friend had posted on his Facebook page. I have to say, Max really got it right with "A Christmas Prayer." It sort of took away everything that I even dreamed of writing. Because I just didn't think I could add anything.
So I was going to write, "What he said." I know some people who read this don't read Facebook links to articles that people post. I hope you'll read this one. Because he's dead on. We need Jesus to be born anew in us this Christmas. Our world is in desperate straights and needs Him.
But then I thought a bit more about it. I thought about how as I was watching the news this afternoon, while my little ones napped for the first time all week and my oldest was safe in her classroom in a community very similar to Sandy Hook, CT, my chest hurt, and I couldn't breathe well. I thought about how it felt like September 11, 2001, all over again. I thought about how the only thing I wanted was to hold my girls in my arms every day for the rest of my life. And I thought about how when my daughter was in Kindergarten two years ago, there were only 21 kids in her class. That would have left three survivors. And then I thought about the survivors in that Kindergarten class at Sandy Hook Elementary and wondered if they could really be called survivors. And I thought about that mom and how it felt to see her son walk into the classroom and open fire on her and the little ones in her care. I hope she didn't see him. I hope he caught her with her back turned.
So, in light of all of that, I wanted to share something after all. I wanted to beg, along with the Church and children of God way back in the time of Isaiah, God for something. Father God, send our salvation. Rescue us. Bring us Home.
And I'll conclude as Max Lucado did. Because it seems most fitting as long as we travel through this world.
Hopefully . . .
So I was going to write, "What he said." I know some people who read this don't read Facebook links to articles that people post. I hope you'll read this one. Because he's dead on. We need Jesus to be born anew in us this Christmas. Our world is in desperate straights and needs Him.
But then I thought a bit more about it. I thought about how as I was watching the news this afternoon, while my little ones napped for the first time all week and my oldest was safe in her classroom in a community very similar to Sandy Hook, CT, my chest hurt, and I couldn't breathe well. I thought about how it felt like September 11, 2001, all over again. I thought about how the only thing I wanted was to hold my girls in my arms every day for the rest of my life. And I thought about how when my daughter was in Kindergarten two years ago, there were only 21 kids in her class. That would have left three survivors. And then I thought about the survivors in that Kindergarten class at Sandy Hook Elementary and wondered if they could really be called survivors. And I thought about that mom and how it felt to see her son walk into the classroom and open fire on her and the little ones in her care. I hope she didn't see him. I hope he caught her with her back turned.
So, in light of all of that, I wanted to share something after all. I wanted to beg, along with the Church and children of God way back in the time of Isaiah, God for something. Father God, send our salvation. Rescue us. Bring us Home.
Come, Thou long expected Jesus"Come, Thou Long-Expected Jesus" by Charles Wesley (arranged by Chris Tomlin)
Born to set Thy people free
From our fears and sins release us
Let us find our rest in Thee
Israel's strength and consolation
Hope of all the earth Thou art
Dear desire of every nation
Joy of every longing heart
Born Thy people to deliver
Born a child and yet a king
Born to reign in us forever
Now Thy gracious kingdom bring
By Thine own eternal Spirit
Rule in all our hearts alone
By Thine own sufficient merit
Raise us to Thy glorious throne
By Thine own sufficient merit
Raise us to Thy glorious throne
And I'll conclude as Max Lucado did. Because it seems most fitting as long as we travel through this world.
Hopefully . . .
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