Who are your 10 favorite authors?
This is a fun one for me, because I wrote a trilogy (The DarkTrench Saga) that takes place 500 years in the future, and the names of many of my favorite authors are used as swear words in those books.
1) Edgar Rice Burroughs – Creator of Tarzan and John Carter of Mars. I really admire his world building and raw imagination. The places and characters he describes seem like they exist, or could exist.
2) Michael Crichton – I really enjoy the “smartness” of his books. Most novels don’t come with bibliographies, but his almost always do—and they’re huge. There is always just enough real science for it to seem plausible.
3) Isaac Asimov – Though I don’t always agree with him philosophically, I admire the vastness of the universe he created in his novels. He was such a big idea person. Psychohistory, wow, what a concept. Plus, there’s the robots. Gotta like those.
4) Arthur Clarke – Again, big ideas and solid storytelling.
5) Ray Bradbury – His writing is nuanced and lyrical. Anyone can become a better writer by studying the way he wrote. To say Bradbury’s prose is poetic doesn’t do it justice. He relished the English language. He gloried in it. Danced and painted and sang in it. Plus, he told stories with heart.
6) Tolkien – World building! Plus attention to detail. Few writers do either to the extent he did. Maybe more should.
7) C.S. Lewis – Deep meaning and solid, approachable writing. The world needs another C.S. Lewis, I think.
8) Jack McDevitt – He’s an enjoyable modern science fiction writer. Does an excellent job of illustrating, with words, the grandeur and mystery of the universe.
9) Frank Peretti – I think he’s a great storyteller. He writes from a Christian perspective, yet is never preachy. I’ve enjoyed everything I’ve read of his, and I’ve read a lot.
10) Stephen King – I haven’t read everything he’s written, nor can I say I’ve loved everything I’ve read. But I do admire his longevity and his storytelling ability. Plus his characterizations are phenomenal. All that and he’s a seat-of-the-pants writer like I am. It inspires me to know someone else has done so well just making it up as he goes.
About the Book
About the Author
Jebediah had a secret.
It was a weight, really. Something the songs of church service couldn’t lighten. Even daily prayers and scripture reading were no help. It was always present. Always hidden.
“It is Gelassenheit,” his father had said. “Surrendering yourself for others.”
So Jeb bore the weight. It was God’s will. Like Abraham tying Isaac to the altar. We hold the knife with the faith that God will stop us from using it.
With a groan, Jebediah pushed his way out of bed. Beside him, Sarah sighed and rolled his direction. Even with the passage of decades, she still appeared as beautiful to him as when they married. A day twenty years ago now. Her in a simple white dress and kapp. He in his best black suit. Family and friends, similarly attired. A simpler time. A happier time. An early spring.
Before the secret had passed to him.
“Is it morning so soon?” she whispered.
Jeb smiled. “Ya, it is.”
She made to get out of bed, but Jeb frowned and held out a hand. “Stay in,” he said. “At forty, you’ve earned a few more minutes.”
She put the back of her hand over her mouth and yawned. “So much to do today. The Troyers need breakfast. And Eli will need help with that baby. And the garden.”
Jeb glanced out the bedroom window. The sun had not yet begun to rise. And neither moon. Only a few distant stars and the mass of what was commonly called the Morning Nebbit.
Still very dark. That was a comfort, at least.