Humor, Drama, Moral Depth in Perfect Proportions
by Randall Murphree
April 26, 2004
(AgapePress) - Novelist Randy Singer was once witnessing to his waiter in an Atlanta restaurant, offering him a gospel tract. In an exclusive interview Singer recalled their conversation:"We're all sinners, but God loves you and has a plan for your life -- " Singer began.
"Right on! Right on!" the waiter interrupted.
"Now, I'm slow," Singer laughs, "but finally, I said, 'Charles, are you a Christian?'"
"I'm a preacher," the waiter said.
"Where do you preach?"
"On the streets of downtown Atlanta."
"Well, that's really cool. How's it going?"
"We got so big the police shut us down."
"I'm a lawyer!" Singer responded. "They can't do that. You've got First Amendment rights." That encounter formed an immediate bond between the two men. And gave Singer an authentic model for a street preacher in his novels.
Charles Arnold, the street preacher in Singer's books, is a major character in Dying Declaration which will be released by WaterBrook in May. As with Singer's two previous novels, he hits the bulls eye again with well-drawn characters and fast-paced, suspenseful action. There's just the right combination of humor -- from the characters' personalities; drama -- in the riveting courtroom and jail scenes; and moral depth -- via the strong faith of major characters.
The fictional Charles is an African-American lawyer who is arrested for violating city noise ordinances with his sidewalk preaching services in Virginia Beach, Virginia.
In the courtroom, Arnold crosses paths with most of the other major characters, including Deputy Commonwealth's Attorney Rebecca Crawford, known in local law enforcement circles as "the Barracuda." Crawford is politically correct in all her moral attitudes and politically ambitious in all her personal goals. She epitomizes the word "villain" -- a necessary element for any good novel.
Thomas and Theresa Hammond, fundamentalist Christians who disdain medical attention, are drawn into a firestorm of courtroom controversy when the state charges them with negligent homicide in the death of their 20-month-old son, Joshua. A Hammond conviction would be a feather in the Barracuda's political cap.
Nikki Moreno, a flashy young liberal, is appointed by the judge to care for the Hammonds' other children -- John Paul, 5, and Hannah, 7 -- until the case is decided. A jury initially finds Thomas guilty, but Theresa not guilty.
With a less gifted writer, every character might have become a flat, boring caricature -- but Singer cleverly crafts them into credible, three-dimensional people. Their dialogue and their inner thoughts shape them into folks the reader is forced either to love or to loathe, depending on their actions.
In real life, Singer not only became friends with Charles the waiter; he joined Charles the preacher on the sidewalks of downtown Atlanta. A former successful litigation attorney, Singer is now vice president of the North American Mission Board (Southern Baptist Convention).
"The first time I was out there," Singer said, "Charles sang a few songs and got the crowd around. Then he said, 'We are so privileged to have Brother Randy Singer to present tonight's message.' So I got up there and gave them the basics of the gospel and a guy got saved that night. I was hooked!"
Sharing his faith is important to Randy Singer. He sees a novel as "a 400-page tract," its first purpose to present the gospel. Through his characters, the gospel is seamlessly woven into the fabric of daily living. Secondly, Singer believes a novel must offer an intriguing, gripping story or the reader won't feel the impact of the Gospel message.
Though he's still a new kid on the block in Christian fiction, Singer has made a pretty big splash. The genre is growing rapidly, and the annual Christy Awards were established in 2000 to recognize each year's best titles. Singer's debut novel, Directed Verdict, won the Christy for best suspense novel of 2002, and his second, Irreparable Harm, is up for a 2003 Christy. That award will be revealed in June.
Singer's first two books are superb; Dying Declaration is better. "I had more fun writing this book," he says. "I felt like its characters are deeper. I will never take for granted the fact that God is allowing me to write novels. He gets all the glory. These are His stories."
Randall Murphree, a regular contributor to AgapePress, is editor of AFA Journal, a monthly publication of the American Family Association.
