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Denise Turney is a celebrated book author who started on-air book reviews before there was a “pod” in “casting.”
Here’s a wide-ranging and engaging discussion about proceeding from a blank page into snarls of intrigue, surprise, and delight.
Find out more about his wise and wonderful woman and her books at chistell.com.
Thinking About Thinking is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
The other night, Georja and I screened the new movie Maria, Angelina Jolie’s portrayal of diva Maria Callas in the twilight of her life.
Jolie’s portrayal is admirable. The story is tragic. And the remastered excerpts of Callas singing some of the most loved arias of all time are thrilling.
But the thing that moved me to offer this gift to you is not an aria. And Callas wasn’t among the performers. When the end credits for Maria began to roll, I recognized immediately my favorite moment from all the operas I’ve ever heard: “The Chorus of the Hebrew Slaves,” which is the popular title of “Va Pensiero” from Giusesppe Verdi’s Nabucco.
Giuseppi Verdi by Giovanni Boldini
In the podcast, I explain this scene in the plot of the opera, along with why this song, which became the anthem of a rebellion in Italy, demonstrates powerfully why historical fiction is always all about today.
What does the government of Italy's 50th prime minister Silvio Berlusconi have to do with Giuseppe Verdi, three-thousand-year-old Hebrew slaves, the reunification of Italy, and conservative politicians' agenda to de-fund not only the arts but also federal support of public education?
Let’s take a field trip to the opera to find out!
'“Va Pensiero” synchronization rights licensed frm Audio Network Limited via Sounddogs.com.
It’s about the One Percent of yesteryear. The century-old hidden message in the painting would have scandalized this prominent family.
Gerald discusses his Preacher Evan Wycliff mystery series with Daniel Lucas on the host's Book 101 vidcast.
Here's an inspiring conversation with Damian Andrews
It’s a time of high anxiety - and not just for fear of zombies because Halloween has resurrected all of the George Romero movies.
Our friend and colleague Damian Andrews is a writer, an indie publisher, and a consultant in business management. What’s special about my recent conversation from him is his view from Down Under. He lives in Victoria, Australia.
His is what I’d call a fresh perspective when I sorely needed one!
Timely? You kidding? Get it.
Gerald and his colleagues Cheyenne Cockrell and Tom Page discuss the challenges of writing what you think in the post-information age. A rebroadcast of the GetPublished! Radio show.
Thinking About Thinking is a reader-supported publication. Paid subscribers will find all prior episodes, as well as audiobooks and interviews, on the Podcast tab.
John le Carré was my literary father, who taught me to be a close observer
Anne Tyler was my mother, who showed me how to love even the stinkers
Peter De Vries was my brother, who made me laugh by showing me how the combination of religion and sex can be a reliable engine of comedy
Presented at Dr. Theresa A. Moseley's Passion Purpose & Peace Summit, September 2024
Chapter 1 - Courtly Maneuvers
In this chapter…
Brad urgently awaits Moira for a high-stakes meeting at the Century Club. Their tennis match against the influential Botheralls doubles as a business strategy. Despite Moira's internal conflict between loyalty and talent, they orchestrate a calculated game, blurring the lines between skill and deceit.
Narrated beautifully by Erin Alexis.
Audiobook episodes will post on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays at 5am US Eastern Time - from August 13 to November 2. Paid subscribers to the Thinking About Thinking blog posts get all 36 episodes at no extra charge - including episodes already posted - in the site Podcasts tab (or on Apple, Spotify, and other distros). All subscribers will receive the next week’s release schedule on Sunday evenings.
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Here's my book review of Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale. Written in 1986 the prospects of a Christian national state and dictatorship seemed remote. Not anymore.
Greg Young narrates this award-winning mystery thriller. Here’s a preview of the episodes in this audiobook release, available to paid subscribers of Thinking About Thinking on Substack.
Feed your curiosity with a paid subscription to this Thinking About Thinking blog. With a paid subscription, you’ll gain access to all the content that’s here, including podcasts, and you’ll be helping us build our worldwide community through storytelling and self-expression.
If you’re a free subscriber here, upgrade to paid for $5 per month or $30 and get access to all content, including Thinking About Thinking book reviews, thoughtful essays, podcasts, and audiobooks. Episodes of Preacher Finds a Corpse are releasing daily now and will be complete by April 25. Find past releases on our Bonus Audiobook Episodes tab, and if you haven’t been following - by all means binge!
Devout Christians may think amateur sleuth Reverend Evan Wycliff is an agnostic. He has an obsessively curious, questioning mind. Is this therefore not Christian literature? Was the Book of Revelation a divinely inspired vision or a crazed hallucination?
Here’s the text of Chapter 1 …
“Reverend Wycliff, much of what you believe in your Christian faith is true, but not for the reasons you believe.”
The grizzled old man at my door was muttering in heavily accented English, but his message was unmistakable. It didn’t help my perception that I was severely hung over, having spent most of the night alternately guzzling cheap bourbon and praying.
It was a spring morning, only slightly chilly, promising a day that might be perfectly fine. I was clad in my habitual sweatsuit, which might well have reeked by now, but I’d grown so accustomed to my own stink I wouldn’t know. I worried he did, even though his outward appearance was no more respectable than mine. He was dressed in a black business suit, but it wasn’t his size and looked rumpled and dirty, as if he’d been sleeping in doorways.
I’d finally managed to drop off to sleep just moments before there came the polite knock on my door, and I was having trouble keeping my eyes open.
“You’ve made coffee?” he asked with an approving sniff. It wasn’t so much a question as an insistent hint. When I had prepared with undue optimism last night to crawl into bed, I’d set the automatic drip machine for precisely this hour.
It seems I have no choice but to invite him in.
I still hadn’t greeted him or said a word yet. I simply opened the door to my humble cube-sized trailer home and waved an arm toward its shabby interior.
On the narrow counter where I undertake food preparations often no more complex than opening a can, I could only find one mug and that one encrusted with my own leavings. As he jostled behind me and sat in the only chair, I rummaged in the wall-mounted crate that houses dinnerware, condiments, and pharmaceuticals. I was delighted to find a second cup, this one emblazoned with the logo of the Twin Dragons Casino. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d needed to use it, but it looked reasonably clean.
I filled both cups from the steaming carafe, turned to offer him his, and before I could finally manage to speak to ask his preferences, he blurted what sounded like, “Kine krim, kine sook. Trying to quit zucker.”
German, I realized. Or perhaps his accent was of some other Eastern European extraction, and he was telling me he’d be more comfortable if I shared his other common language.
I sat down on my cot and blew out a puff of exhaustion, doubly fatigued after my long, dark night of the soul and the presumably unpleasant surprise of this intrusion on my unenviable privacy.
We both sipped, reverently it seemed.
He smacked his lips before he sighed and said, “I took long time finding you. Fortunately, your neighbors are shameless gossips.”
I took another restorative sip, cleared my throat, and asked gruffly, “To what do I owe the pleasure, Mister—?”
“Doctor Gropius. Hans Gropius. Forgive the similarity in name to the famous historical person, but no relation. The surname not my choice, of course. But people assume I must be from family of architects.” He sipped again, this time long and noisily, then added with a chuckle, “Although I stand in awe of the grand design.”
Somehow I caught the hint. My brain was waking up. There had to be a reason this fellow had taken pains to seek me out. So I asked, “Design? Physical or spiritual?”
He chuckled again, “Insight, you have! I knew I was in the right place. I simply toss out phrase that suggests scheme of Creation, and you jump on it. Clever fellow. We are going to be friends, I am sure of it.”
I cautioned him by displaying the upraised palms of my hands. It occurred to me he might think I was intending to show him stigmata or perhaps pre-Parkinson’s tremor, neither of which I think I have and might seem crazy, but based on his behavior so far, I had no reason to expect he was sane either. “When you talk about what I believe, I don’t know how you’d know. I will say I’m not an agnostic, although certainly I’ve been accused of such. I insist I am a man of faith, but faith in what mostly defies definition, depends on the day and my mood.”
He smiled, explaining. “I was faithful listener to your broadcasts. I was saddened when you went off the air. Then news of your resignation from your ministry was also upsetting.”
“I didn’t resign. I was kicked out, but the result is the same. I suppose my tumble downhill began when my wife left me. Turns out being a minister’s wife is an even heavier cross to bear than being a pastor. And as for my show, I tried to speak truth to power one too many times.”
“Do you believe in afterlife?” he asked quietly.
At that moment, I wished the coffee were bourbon and I could stiffen myself with a shot. I began to worry he might be a journalist or some emissary from church leadership sent to chastise me. But I decided I might as well answer as honestly as I could. “I don’t believe in resurrection of the body—as a living, breathing, human body. But, reincarnation? Transference of consciousness from one being—or state of being—to another? I won’t say it’s impossible. I worry it’s not, but because I have an obsessively curious intellect, I worry a lot.”
“My dear Evan,” he began, then stopped himself to ask, “May I address you so? I feel I know you so well, you see.”
His manner was amusing, endearing. “Go ahead,” I allowed. “Please tell me more about myself than I know, and I’ll gift you another cup of coffee.”
He loved this. Grinning broadly he teased, “You are, of course, aware of virtual reality?”
“Sure,” I said. “But can’t say I’ve indulged. Not games for kids anymore, I understand. Frankly, it’s scary.”
“And you know work of physicist Nick Bostrum?”
“I do,” I admitted. “Not in depth but I believe he’s famous for speculating we don’t live in what’s termed base reality.”
“Just so,” the visitor said approvingly. “We say now we live in post-information age. Soon we live in post-reality. Dreaming, waking—who can know the difference?”
“What are you trying to tell me, Hans?”
“Evan, you are a man of faith. You believe what you cannot see. We scientists, we say seeing is believing. I’m here to tell you, seeing means nothing anymore.”
Release date of the fourth book, Preacher Stalls the Second Coming, will be announced. The first three are available now in paperback, Kindle, and EPUB. The first novel, Preacher Finds a Corpse, is also available as an audiobook from Audible and other distributors worldwide.
Feed your curiosity with a paid subscription to this Thinking About Thinking blog. You’ll gain access to all the content that’s here, and you’ll be helping us build our worldwide community through storytelling and self-expression.
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From the publisher's feed