Tag: Lifeblood by Lee Duigon

Here’s Why They Hate Trump

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Lifeblood book by Lee Duigon

I know I didn’t have a crystal ball when I wrote this in 1986… but now it seems I did.

Every villain on this earth is against Donald Trump–so he must be good. I’m finally convinced of that.

What a speech he gave in Michigan the other night! In which he pledged himself to “defend the working class from the corrupt political class that has spent decades sucking the life, wealth, and blood out of this country” (https://freerepublic.com/focus/f-news/4190256/posts). You tell ’em, Mr. President!

This is why the establishment will break every rule in the book if that’s what it takes to put this man down. Hey, no one comes home broke from Capitol Hill! Right? That’s something worth protecting, eh?

Like Trump himself has said, they’re coming after you–“I’m just in the way.”

(There, I’ve got those political passions off my chest. Now I can go outside and work on my book.)

My Old Horror Novels

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Schoolhouse by Lee Duigon

Pretty hokey cover, isn’t it? But that was Schoolhouse, my second published novel, from 1988.

My wife has been re-reading my old horror novels. I sold the first one, Lifeblood, in 1986 and the last one, Mind Stealer, came out in 1990. Not a very long career.

Anyway, she thinks these are terrific horror novels. It makes me wonder if anyone else out there has read them. Brief descriptions follow:

Lifeblood: A vampire preys on the people of an affluent suburban township.

Schoolhouse: This school is haunted by a lot more than just ghosts.

Precog: Can psychic powers be created by science? Rather harrowing, finding out.

Mind Stealer: What happens when you mix business theory with devilish occult practices?

Look, it was a long time ago, I was writing because it seemed my only chance to achieve something, anything, in life–and then the horror market imploded in 1990 and a lot of us horror writers got cast aside. Adios, muchachos.

I don’t write books like this anymore. I don’t write solely for my own aggrandizement anymore: if my books don’t serve Christ’s Kingdom, they might as well not be written. The horror novels are full of all those dirty words and morally dubious behaviors that seemed so up-to-date and with-it back then. But they also contain some memorable scenes and characters and I would rate them as very good examples of that kind of literature.

Some of you will disagree with me, but I don’t think that horror novels or horror movies are entirely without merit. If nothing else, a good one can blow out the cobwebs. It can, for a little time, allow you to forget the real horror of a nation menaced by Democrats. A good scare, administered by a haint or a monster that doesn’t really exist and will soon go away, has a therapeutic value.

The worldly monsters that we have to deal with, they never go away.

I Got My Start with a Vampire Story

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Image result for images of lifeblood by lee duigon

This was my first published novel, Lifeblood, vintage 1988. Heidi asked how I made the jump from horror to Christian novels.

Well, first off, it took 20 years. There was a horror boom in the 1980s, and I was part of it. When it turned into a horror bust in the 1990s, I was part of that, too. I wrote a lot of books after that, but none ever got published. It really wasn’t looking like I would ever be published again.

I had four horror novels published. I wrote them in hopes of becoming rich and famous, for my own aggrandizement. Serving God never crossed my mind.

In a radio interview a few years ago, Kevin Swanson asked me, “So what woke you up?” And I answered, “Believe it or not, Bill Clinton! Suddenly we had a president doing sex with an intern in the Oval Office, going all Charlie High school smart guy on us by saying ‘It depends on what is is,’ and getting away with it–and all these people saying ‘Oh, it’s only sex, and lying about sex, and everybody does it, no big deal.'”  It became obvious that our culture had slipped a few big notches downward while I wasn’t looking. Did I want to live in a country where it really was okay for the president to be doing interns in the Oval Office? I could hardly recognize it as the America that was supposed to be my home.

Fear sent me running back to the Bible, back to prayer. I started writing quasi-journalistic pieces for several Christian, pro-family organizations and eventually caught on with the Chalcedon Foundation (and I’m happy to say I’m still there!).

Chalcedon publishes books on theology; but a few years ago, someone wondered if it might not be a good idea if we published a novel or two. And my editor, Susan, said, “But we already have a novelist!” Meaning me.

And it just so happened that I had only recently had a dream featuring a high mountain with the sound of a bell somewhere in the air. It was a very haunting image, and it became the seed of Bell Mountain.

God keeps giving me these novels to write in His service–twelve of them, so far. As long as He keeps giving them, I’ll keep writing them. This is the work I love best, and may it be fruitful to Christ’s Kingdom.

I’ve Found a Keeper

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Image result for images of nicholas by michael j scott

“When confronted with the miraculous, faith is the only rational choice left.” (From the book’s cover blurb)

I review a lot of books for Chalcedon, always looking for something I can recommend. I’m halfway through Nicholas by Michael J. Scott–and excuse me while I climb up to shout a recommendation from the housetops.

Do you believe in miracles? If you were a hard-nosed newspaper reporter, sent off to a monastery at the top of the world to do a human interest story, and there you discovered–well, the original St. Nicholas, alive and kicking!–would you believe?

We’re not talking about everyday miracles like the sun coming up, or the birth of a child. We mean miracles in the strictest sense of the word–things that those who worship Science declare are totally impossible, they couldn’t happen, not ever, etc. Yeah, those miracles.

I am so tempted to skip ahead and find out what happens, but I can’t do that to a fine writer like Mr. Scott. In my first published horror novel, Lifeblood, I took pains to create a totally unexpected surprise ending–and Aunt Gertie went right ahead, as soon as she started reading the book, to find out how it ended. I hardly knew what to say to her.

So here we have a book about miracles, the least of which is a saint still alive, still serving God, after living some 1,700 years upon the earth.

This is really, really cool!

If you’re into miracles, give this one a read.

The Ol’ Horror Novelist

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Every now and then I encounter a comment like this: “What’s a ‘horror novelist’ doing, writing Christian commentary?” The people who make these comments seem rather ticked off that I should be writing anything at all.

Thirty years ago, I was writing horror novels and four of them got published. Lifeblood was my first–and note the tiny little letters for the author’s name. I wrote them because I’ve never wanted to be anything but a writer, all my life; I like scary stories; and horror was booming at the time. And even if I do say so myself, as Steven King knock-offs go, these were pretty good.

But it was thirty years ago, and it would be a sad thing if I never grew and matured spiritually in all those years. Obviously I don’t write that kind of book anymore. I doubt I could, even if I wanted to.

So, because I used to write such books decades ago, that disqualifies me from ever writing anything else? Is it like an armed robbery conviction and prison term suddenly appearing in the resume of a political candidate? Some folks out there seem to think so. But I think this phase of my writing career was a door that I had to pass through to get to where I am today.

I once wrote for the glory of me. Now I write, I hope, for the glory of God.

Robbie Update: They gave her a shot to subdue her nausea, and since we came home this morning, Robbie has already eaten more than she has in the last two days put together. Not a lot, but enough to give us some encouragement. Please, Lord, in Jesus’ name, make this turn out right! Amen.

And now this old horror novelist is about finished for the afternoon.