Author: Tod Newman

  • Thoughts on the Old West: Violent, Racist, Misogynistic?

    Thoughts on the Old West: Violent, Racist, Misogynistic?

    I recently completed my first novel in the Western genre.

    I have read this novel at least ten times by now, and just finished reading the author’s proof that I received in the mail. I feel somewhat guilty about really enjoying thisโ€”surely I’m biased and am missing something.

    One thing I consciously chose to avoid in this novelโ€”the first in a series of three that is going to explore the terrible things that happened in the Pleasant Valley range war of 1880’s Arizona Territoryโ€”is graphic violence of the sort that our culture enjoys in the abstract sense provided by books and movies. Perhaps this is because modern America is unfamiliar with real violence. In my novel, when the first few murders of the range war occur, they happen off stageโ€”still incredibly impactful to the community, but not graphically represented for the reader. I’m doing this on purpose, but I will need to adjust this stylistically as the range war erupts and chaos starts to take over. I’m pondering how to do this in a consistent way.

    My main character is a pretty unusual one. She becomes our guide to the humanity and the inhumanity behind the cause of this range war. She is a widow who had plans to go to Arizona before her husband passed away suddenly. Very unusual case. I have considered if she’s too unusual, but then I remember my grandma and my great-grandma and their hard, adventurous people, and I think maybe she’s not completely unreal.

    One thing in the first book I intentionally showed was how the ranch community welcomed her and admired what she brought to the community. She’s tough and unbendingโ€”even while silently grieving a recently dead husband. She has great powers of observation. She counts things and remembers them. She works on the small plot that she bought with the first proceeds from her freighting businessโ€”driving small numbers of cattle and hauling goods between the isolated valley and the two closest townsโ€”each of which is over eighty miles away.

    I made a point to reflect a culture we no longer remember where men showed respect to women, particularly women they admired. I also am trying to show a historically representative ranching culture where Anglos expanding to the west interact with families who had moved north from Mexico generations earlier. In my book, just like in the world of my grandparents, these two different cultures have the general tendency to appreciate each other and each other’s traditions.

    I read an interview with Larry McMurtry (“Lonesome Dove”) recently where he felt over-focused on the “badness” of the American West. He stated his goal was to “demythologize” the West, mostly because he believed that “The history of our country is a violent history, a racist history, and a misogynistic history. It wouldn’t be correct, politically or otherwise, to paint it as civilized.”

    Though I love his characters and books while disagreeing with the decisions he made in them, I wonder if it’s the place of any author to “demythologize” history. Especially if we are doing this from within the comfortable boundaries of our own mythologies. My objective is to present the history accurately and with as little of my twenty-first century bias as I can manage.

    I think about the mythology of the 1880’s in the West. The mythology of my Great Great Grandfather, who sold a horse to Jesse James after fighting in a Civil War on the opposite side of Jesse. Who built a small farm despite pressure from outlaws, dangerous wildlife, and disease and loss. I suspect we have exaggerated the more brutal aspects of his mythology for our own entertainment, but they were certainly a part of it.

    In interviews, McMurtry admitted that though he had intended “Lonesome Dove” to “demythologize” the West, he quickly recognized that he had only accomplished the opposite. “Lonesome Dove,” which had been intended to be a long critique of western mythology, had become the chief source of western mythology. So when I write this book about the Old West, I try to do something different: navigate the place between the wilder parts of their era without forgetting the basic humanity they held, which in many ways was stronger than our own.

    This “navigation” will be a good challenge as I move into the rest of the story, though. Stay tuned for Book Two in “The Rim Country,” where things begin to drift out of control and new players emerge with their own objectives and goals.

    Find Book One of “The Rim Country” at the links below:

    The Rim Country: Book One, ‘The Invitation’ (paperbook)

    The Rim Country: Book One, ‘The Invitation’ (ebook)

  • A New Home for The Halls of the Shadow King

    A New Home for The Halls of the Shadow King

    Third century Rome. Emperor Valerian is hunting down church leaders. In the middle of it, a Damascus street thief named Amal discovers he can reshape reality itself โ€” and the discovery makes him a target.

    That’s where The Halls of the Shadow King: The Apprentice begins. It’s the first book in a series I’ve spent over ten years researching and writing: historical fiction grounded in the third-century Roman Empire, with a supernatural, magical realism thread running through itโ€”the notion that there’s an undercurrent to reality we’d call magic if we could sense it, and that the old myths might have been pointing at something real all along. I think I picked this up in my early years from C.S. Lewis, J.R.R Tolkien, and even Stephen Lawhead.

    Amal’s story is about gifts of power and what it costs. About what it means to prepare yourself and to serve something greater than yourself when the world is asking you to be small, careful, and safe instead. I feel this is a message we need to hear now more than ever.

    I write these books hoping they land in the hands of the right readerโ€”someone who needs a story about courage, risk, and cost. That’s a harder thing to aim for on a platform built for volume rather than connection. So Desdichado Books is making a change.

    Starting now, The Apprentice is no longer available through Amazon. Over time, the rest of the series โ€” Into Deeper Waters, The Hidden Order, Britannia Calls, and possibly even the connected novelettesโ€”will move the same direction. Going forward, you’ll find these books in two places online: todnewman.com/shop and desdichadobooks.com/bookstore. And also in any bookstores willing to take the plunge.

    Why leave a platform with that much reach? Because reach isn’t the same as connection. On Amazon, a sale is a saleโ€”I never know who bought the book, whether it found them at the right moment, or whether it did what I hoped it would do. A direct shop is smaller, but it’s mine. I can know who’s reading. I can put the book directly in the hands of someone who’s looking for it, rather than hoping an algorithm decides to show it to them. And a purchase made there supports the work in a more direct, more personal way than it ever could buried in a marketplace of millions of other titles.

    This isn’t a stunt, and it isn’t about volume. As I write in all of my books, my measure of success has never been sales numbersโ€”it’s the right book reaching the right person, and that person passing it on. If Amal’s story is one you’ve already read, or one you’ve been meaning to start, I’d be grateful if you found it through the new shop. It’s a small thing, but it’s one more way to know this work is reaching someone who wanted it.

    The voyage is just beginning. Thank you for coming along.

    Cover montage of the Novels and Novelettes in the Halls of the Shadow King Series
  • The Time Has Come to Return the Sword

    The Time Has Come to Return the Sword

    Arthur Pendragon hasn’t drawn Excalibur in eleven years. He’s fifty-six, tired, and finished pretending the sword still belongs to him. So he loads it on a donkey and rides alone into the mountains of Snowdonia to return it to the water.

    He doesn’t expect anyone to be waiting for him there.

    It’s a quiet story about a king at the end of his legend โ€” and what he finds out about his life when he gets there. Set in the world of The Halls of the Shadow King, for readers who like their Arthurian fiction grounded and a little unexpected.

    99 cents on Kindle right now.

  • Western Literature with a Magical Realism Twist

    Western Literature with a Magical Realism Twist

    Nora Callahan can feel trouble before it has a name.

    She calls it reading weatherโ€”a sense, inherited from a grandmother she barely knew, that warns her when a man has already decided something terrible and just hasn’t done it yet. It saved her life once, in a trading post in New Mexico, when she walked out the back door for no reason she could explain. It’s saved her more times since.

    But Nora didn’t come west to be anyone’s oracle. She came to build a life after her husband’s death, on a parcel of land between two families who don’t know yet that they’re about to tear each other apartโ€”and a man riding into the valley who gives off no weather at all. No pressure, no warning, nothing she can read. Just a blank where a person should be.

    Now everyone she’s come to love is standing in the path of something she can feel coming and can’t stop, can’t name, and may not be able to warn them about in time.

    THE RIM COUNTRY, Book One. Coming Soon! (More on this book!)

  • The Questions “The Rim Country” Asks

    The Questions “The Rim Country” Asks

    The Rim Country isn’t really about the 1880s. It’s about a question that hasn’t gotten any easier to answer: what do you do with the people you love when you can see them heading toward something irreversible, and you can’t honestly tell them they’re wrong to go?

    The novel sits inside ideas that feel less like history and more like a mirrorโ€”the difference between forgiveness and reconciliation, and why people confuse them; how revenge dresses itself up as justice when accountability is absent; and how two communities stalemated in a grudge war are often the last to notice they’re being played by ambitious outsiders.

    Nora Callahan, the woman caught in the middle of it, doesn’t get to stay above the fray and dispense wisdom. She has to live inside the not-knowing, the same way we all do when the people around us make devastating but somewhat defensible choices we can’t stop.

    THE RIM COUNTRY, Book One. Coming Soon! (More on this book!)

  • War is Coming to the Valley!

    War is Coming to the Valley!

    Nora Callahan’s gifting has kept her alive more than once—it’s how she knows, long before neighbor ranching families will admit it, that war is coming to the valley and she can’t stop it.


    THE RIM COUNTRY, Book One. Coming Soon! (More on this book!)

  • The War They Forgot to Put in the History Books

    The War They Forgot to Put in the History Books

    Most Arizonans know the name Tombstone. The O.K. Corral. Wyatt Earp. The gunfight that lasted thirty seconds and generated movies and a hundred years of mythology.

    Fewer know about Pleasant Valley.

    In the summer of 1887, a feud erupted in the Tonto Basin between two ranching families โ€” the Tewksburys and the Grahams โ€” that would kill somewhere between thirty and fifty men over the next five years, wipe out the male lines of both families, and leave a valley so saturated with violence that the survivors renamed it just to escape the memory. By body count, the Pleasant Valley War was the deadliest range conflict in the history of the American West. It makes the O.K. Corral look like a disagreement over a fence line.

    And almost nobody outside Arizona has heard of it. And few inside Arizona, to be honest.

    I’ve been researching this conflict for the better part of a year, and the more I dig, the more convinced I am that the Pleasant Valley War is one of the great untold stories of American history. Not because of the violence โ€” though the violence is extraordinary โ€” but because of what the violence reveals. This wasn’t a simple feud between bad men. It was a collision of cattle and sheep interests, racial prejudice against the half-Native American Tewksbury family, the corrupting influence of a territorial cattle baron with political aspirations named James Stinson, the arrival of hired killers like Tom Horn, and the fundamental question of who had the right to determine what an ideal ranching valley was for.


    Why I’m writing about it as fiction

    When I first encountered the Pleasant Valley War, my instinct was to research the history for a possible historical fiction novel. But the historical record has a gap at its center that no amount of research can fill: the inner lives of the people involved. We know what happened from a few differing perspectives. We don’t know what it felt like to watch it happen from inside the valley, day by day, before anyone knew how it would end. That feels useful to me. Is this the sort of pressure between opposing sides we’re feeling today — and are we equally unsure of the outcome?

    As someone who loves filling in these human gaps of history, I revel in the knowledge that this is where beautiful fiction lives.

    The Rim Country is my attempt to inhabit that gap. The novel follows Nora Callahan, a widowed Irish immigrant who settles in Pleasant Valley in 1882 โ€” five years before the killing starts โ€” and finds herself positioned between the two families as their friendship slowly becomes something else. Nora has an unusual gift: a barometric sensitivity to the intentions of the people around her, a kind of reading weather that gives her early warning of what’s coming and no way to stop it.

    She is fictional. Everything around her is as historically accurate as I can make it.

    The Mogollon Rim, which forms the northern boundary of Pleasant Valley and rises 2,000 feet above the Tonto Basin floor, is the novel’s central symbol โ€” a wall between worlds, between the valley’s closed world and the open country above, between what the valley was and what it was becoming. I’ve driven that rim. I’ve stood at the edge and looked down into the basin and understood, in a way that no map communicates, why the people who settled there felt both protected and trapped.

    That feeling is what I’m trying to put on the page.


    Why Wattpad?

    I’m publishing The Rim Country serially on Wattpad, which means you can read it chapter by chapter, free, as it develops. There are fourteen chapters posted now, covering the years 1882 through 1884 โ€” the friendship, the partnership, the betrayal, and the first death that makes everything that follows inevitable.

    Serial publication is how Dickens published. It’s how most of the great Victorian novels reached their audiences โ€” chapter by chapter, with readers waiting to find out what happened next. There’s something fitting about telling a story of this era the way stories were told in that era.

    If you’re interested in Arizona history, the Pleasant Valley War, or simply in fiction that takes its geography seriously, I’d invite you to start at the beginning. Chapter One is short. The mule is opinionated. The valley is beautiful.

    It won’t stay that way.

    [Read The Rim Country on Wattpad โ€” free]


    Tod Newman writes historical fiction under the Desdichado Books imprint. He reviews books at todnewman.com and posts about the writing life, Arizona history, and whatever the Mogollon Rim is doing today.

  • Blood Runs in Channels: A Review of “The Curses We Keep”

    Blood Runs in Channels: A Review of “The Curses We Keep”

    “The woods lay silent, a black mouth swallowing sound. Pines stood jagged and skeletal against a sky bruised with dusk, their branches reaching upward as though clawing for the last veins of light. Spanish moss hung in long, gray shrouds that swayed in the still air, heavy with damp. Drops fell slow to the earth, each bead glinting like a tear suspended in its fall before breaking the mud with a soft patter.”
    โ€” Miller, Dakota. The Curses We Keep (p. 6)

    So begins Dakota Miller’s debut novel, The Curses We Keep. Billed as Southern Gothic horror, I wasn’t sure what to expect โ€” the label carries weight it rarely earns anymore. The cover art alone signals something unusual: a seriousness of intent largely absent from contemporary fiction. The artistic edge of Southern Gothic seemed to have died with Flannery O’Connor and William Faulkner, only partly revived by Michael McDowell and Cormac McCarthy before a distracted reading public and a risk-averse publishing industry pushed the genre toward the margins โ€” into the hands of independent writers like Dakota Miller.

    The Faulknerian Inheritance

    To invoke Faulkner is not to make a casual comparison, and I don’t make it casually here. Miller’s trans-generational arc โ€” tracing one family’s curse from the Salem trials to the Low Country of South Carolina โ€” carries unmistakable echoes of Absalom, Absalom!, in which Faulkner builds Thomas Sutpen’s dynasty from raw ambition and moral rot into something that must, by its nature, destroy itself. Faulkner wrote: “There is something in the touch of flesh with flesh which abrogates, cuts sharp and straight across the devious intricate channels of decorous ordering, which enemies as well as lovers know.” That sense of inevitability โ€” of blood and sin running in channels that no act of will can redirect โ€” is precisely what Miller achieves in tracing his family’s line forward from Salem. The curse is not supernatural decoration; it is consequence, as natural and relentless as water finding low ground.

    The formal resemblance to The Sound and the Fury is equally real. Faulkner’s great novel fractures time and consciousness deliberately, forcing the reader to assemble meaning from fragments โ€” Benjy’s disordered perception, Quentin’s obsessive circling, Jason’s bitter clarity โ€” because the Compson family’s dissolution cannot be understood from a single, stable vantage point. Miller employs a comparable stream of consciousness to collapse distance between reader and character. We are pulled into the current rather than observing it from shore. Faulkner described his own method as rendering “the agony and the sweat” of human effort โ€” not explaining it, but inhabiting it โ€” and Miller clearly understands that ambition. His prose does not summarize suffering; it enacts it.

    The O’Connor Edge

    Where Faulkner’s Southern Gothic tends toward the epic and the elegiac, Flannery O’Connor’s is surgical and merciless โ€” and Miller shares that quality too. O’Connor famously wrote that “to the hard of hearing you shout, and for the almost-blind you draw large and startling figures.” Her grotesque characters are not freakish for shock’s sake but because, in her theological view, grace requires violence to break through human self-satisfaction. The darkness in Miller’s family saga operates similarly: the horror is not gratuitous, it is diagnostic. Every terrible thing that happens reveals something already spiritually wrong. O’Connor also said that “the meaning of a story should go on expanding for the reader the more he thinks about it” โ€” and The Curses We Keep has exactly that quality of resonance. The novel’s images and devices linger and accumulate meaning long after you’ve closed the book.

    Both O’Connor and Miller share a refusal of sentimentality that is rarer than it ought to be. O’Connor once noted that “tenderness leads to the gas chamber” โ€” by which she meant that cheap compassion, unmoored from truth, enables the worst outcomes. Miller holds to that same discipline: no character in The Curses We Keep is granted an easy exit, no suffering is cleansed into something bearable. The reader must look at what Miller is showing. That is an O’Connor demand as much as a Miller one.

    What Miller Has Done

    Miller uses language the way the best writers do: to reflect meaning already embedded in the world rather than to manufacture his own. His prose is effective precisely because it is purposeful, laying bare the layered pain of his story without sentimentality or escape hatches. The terrible things unfolding feel like truth, and Miller refuses to soften their consequences. Every character must reckon with how their own darkness and folly have led them here โ€” no one is spared, and no one is probably entirely innocent.

    At times the writing evokes Poe in its atmospheric density; at others, the Faulknerian stream of consciousness pulls the reader into the current alongside the characters. The O’Connor edge keeps it honest and unsentimental. The effect is quietly devastating โ€” the kind of novel that leaves you thoughtful and unsettled long after you’ve set it down.

    That an independent author is doing this kind of work, largely outside the machinery of traditional publishing, is itself worth noting. The mainstream press rarely tolerates this much darkness without demanding that it be made palatable. Miller has not made it palatable. He has made it true. That distinction matters enormously, and it puts him in better company than most publishers would have the courage to print.

  • The Chart That Built the NFL Draft โ€” and the One That Should Replace It

    The Chart That Built the NFL Draft โ€” and the One That Should Replace It

    Here’s an article I decided to write after YET ANOTHER YEAR of seeing my beloved NFL draft executed in a sub-optimal way. I’ve enjoyed seeing Dr. Richard Thaler (author of “Nudge” and winner of the Nobel prize in Economics) weighing in on this strange market and felt like this might be the time to put something in the blog explaining the issue…

    Every spring, NFL front offices gather in war rooms and make decisions worth hundreds of millions of dollars based, at least in part, on a laminated chart that Jimmy Johnson reportedly sketched on a cocktail napkin. That chart โ€” formally known as the Draft Value Chart โ€” has governed how teams trade picks for over three decades. It is also, according to Nobel Prize-winning economist Richard Thaler, badly wrong.

    Understanding how it’s wrong, and why teams keep using it anyway, is one of the more fascinating stories at the intersection of behavioral economics and professional sports. And of course, this is an area I have enjoyed writing about for years.


    The Jimmy Johnson Chart: How It Works

    When Jimmy Johnson became head coach of the Dallas Cowboys in 1989, he inherited a franchise in chaos. One of his early challenges was figuring out how to value picks when trading up or down in the draft. This makes great sense, because Johnson realized that there was a missing pricing mechanism.

    The chart he developed assigned a point value to every pick in the seven-round draft, with the first overall pick valued at 3,000 points, the second at 2,600, and so on, declining steeply through the first round before flattening out through the later rounds.

    The chart’s appeal is its simplicity. When a GM wants to trade the 4th pick (1,800 points) for the 12th pick (1,200 points) plus a second-rounder (400 points), the math is clean: 1,800 for 1,600 โ€” close enough to shake hands. It gives both sides a common language and a face-saving mechanism for complex negotiations. (Note the “face-saving” aspect… this is where behavioral econ comes in!)

    The chart spread rapidly through the league, and for decades it was essentially the industry standard. Some teams developed proprietary variants, but the underlying logic โ€” a steep exponential curve weighted heavily toward early picks โ€” remained the dominant framework.


    What Richard Thaler Found

    In 2005, economist Richard Thaler (later awarded the Nobel Prize in Economics in 2017 for his work in behavioral economics) co-authored a paper with one of my favorite sports analytics gurus, Dr. Cade Massey, titled “The Loser’s Curse: Decision Making & Market Efficiency in the NFL Draft.” The findings were seriously actionable (but the NFL did not, actually, take action).

    Thaler and Massey did what the Jimmy Johnson chart never attempted: they measured the actual performance of drafted players relative to their draft position and their compensation. By tracking performance metrics and rookie salary costs over many years, they constructed what amounts to a surplus value chart. In plain English, this means not just asking “how good is this player likely to be?” but “how good is this player likely to be relative to what we’re paying him?” An important distinction!

    The results revealed a profound market inefficiency. Early first-round picks are dramatically overvalued by the Johnson chart relative to the surplus value they actually produce. The reason is twofold:

    First, top picks are simply harder to predict. The gap in projected talent between pick #1 and pick #10 is rarely as large as teams assume, but the difference in compensation is enormous. Rookie contracts are slotted to draft position, so the first pick commands a far larger salary than the tenth โ€” a cost premium that often exceeds the actual performance premium.

    Second, the certainty bias (a cognitive bias where people value a smaller, SURE gain over a higher-risk, greater-reward opportunity) runs deep. Teams systematically overweight the “sure thing” at the top of the board, even when the historical data shows those players bust at surprising rates. Thaler identified this as a classic behavioral economics failure โ€” the same overconfidence and loss aversion that distort decisions in financial markets showing up in draft rooms.

    The Thaler/Massey surplus value model suggested that picks in the late first round and the second round offer the best value in the NFL draft โ€” the sweet spot where players are talented enough to contribute meaningfully but cheap enough that their rookie contracts represent genuine organizational leverage. I feel like this is what I have observed over the years as well. Many more high first round picks are busts than we tend to recall.


    The Arbitrage Opportunity

    The part that interests me is how a team should respond to this erroneous pricing.

    In the “real world” when a pricing mechanism is wrong in a systematic and predictable direction, it creates arbitrage opportunities for anyone willing to exploit the gap between perceived value and actual value. Some notable billionaires have made their fortune off of arbitrage in currency markets (this is why George Soros is known as the ‘Man who Broke the Bank of England’).

    In draft terms, the arbitrage looks like this: if the Johnson chart says Pick #5 is worth Pick #18 plus Pick #52, but Thaler’s surplus value analysis says Pick #18 and Pick #52 together are actually more valuable than Pick #5, then the team trading down from #5 is winning the deal โ€” even though the Johnson chart says it’s a roughly fair exchange.

    Teams that internalize this insight should, in theory, be eager to trade down from premium picks. They receive more total surplus value while the team trading up feels satisfied because the Johnson chart validates the exchange from their perspective.

    Bill Belichick and the New England Patriots were widely cited as the most aggressive exploiters of this arbitrage over two decades, consistently moving down in the first round and accumulating picks rather than chasing the top of the board. The Kansas City Chiefs have shown similar tendencies in recent years. These teams weren’t just being clever about roster depth โ€” they were, consciously or not, taking the other side of a mispriced trade from teams anchored to the Johnson chart.

    There is a limit to this arbitrage, of course. A quarterback who goes #1 overall has a value that no surplus model fully captures โ€” the organizational lift, the marketing revenue, the franchise identity. And as more teams develop sophisticated internal valuation models, the gap between “chart price” and “true price” gradually compresses. The market corrects, slowly.


    Why the Johnson Chart Persists

    Here’s the really interesting question.

    If the Thaler model has been public knowledge since 2005, why does the Johnson chart still circulate in NFL draft rooms?

    Several reasons.

    First, coordination: both sides of a trade need a common reference point, and the Johnson chart provides that even when both parties know it’s imperfect.

    Second, organizational politics: a GM who trades down from the second pick and then watches the player drafted there win a Super Bowl will face questions no surplus value spreadsheet can answer. The Johnson chart provides cover.

    Third, the chart’s inaccuracies are not uniformly distributed โ€” for mid-round trades, it’s reasonably well-calibrated. The distortions concentrate at the extremes, particularly at the top of the first round.

    And of course, there’s also the simple conservatism of an industry where decision-makers are judged against peers rather than against theoretical optima. Using the same chart as everyone else is safe. Departing from it requires explaining yourself.


    The Takeaway for Analytically-Minded Fans

    The next time you watch your team trade up to grab a receiver at pick #9, ask yourself: who won that deal? The Johnson chart will tell you it was roughly fair. The Thaler surplus model will tell you that there’s a high probability that the team trading down got the better end of the bargain.

    The NFL draft is one of a remaining handful of markets where a publicly-known, empirically-validated mispricing persists year after year. Teams that understand the difference between perceived draft value and actual surplus value have a structural advantage over those that don’t โ€” and they’ve had it for twenty years.


    Want to dig deeper? The original Massey-Thaler paper titled “Overconfidence vs. Market Efficiency in the National Football League” is available HERE. For a more recent treatment, The Ringer and For The Numbers have both published updated surplus value analyses incorporating the new CBA rookie wage scale, which has changed some of the specific numbers while leaving the core insight intact. Also, check out the NFL Operations joint project with Carnegie Mellon.

  • I Have a New Novelette โ€” and It’s Almost Free ($.99)!

    I Have a New Novelette โ€” and It’s Almost Free ($.99)!

    I’ve been living in the world of the Old Testament prophets for a long time now. The Eyes of Gehazi took me deep into the strange, volatile orbit of Elisha and his servant, Gehazi. The Prophet and the Queen dropped me into the exhausted, visionary mind of Jeremiah, taken hostage to Egypt. Both of those novels ask a lot of their readers โ€” they’re long, layered, and they don’t apologize for it.

    So I wanted to build a door.

    The Unknown Prophet is a 17,000-word novelette โ€” long enough to sink into, short enough to finish in an evening โ€” and it’s only $.99 (Amazon won’t let me keep it free, but I’d like to).

    It fictionalizes one of the strangest and least-discussed episodes in the entire Old Testament: the unnamed man of God from 1 Kings 13 who walks north alone, confronts a rebellious king at an idolatrous altar, watches God split stone and restore a withered arm, and then gets betrayed on the road home by an older prophet who should have known better. The story ends with a lion and a burial and a grief that has no clean resolution.

    What I love about this story is what it doesn’t explain. The biblical text gives us almost nothing about who this man was, what he was thinking, or why he made the choice that killed him. That blank space is where I live.

    If you’re new to my Prophetic Series, this is the place to start. If you’ve already spent time with Gehazi or Jeremiah, you’ll find the same world โ€” the same dust and wind, the same God who is present and terrifying and not always easy to understand.

    You can grab the ebook for only 99 cents on Amazon. If it finds you well, I hope you’ll wander further in.

    OTHER LINKS you might find interesting:

    The Halls of the Shadow King: Brittania Calls – Learn all about this fourth novel in the Halls of the Shadow King series!

    Tod’s thoughts about the damage that Post-modernism has done to modern literature

    Tod’s Book Reviews