Recently I read the first two books from the Moonlight Bay trilogy, Fear Nothing and Seize the Night. Alas, the third of the triolgy, Ride the Storm is not out and has no plans for being finished. Basically, the series is your typical end-of-the-world, genie-out-of-the-bottle dystopian epic about a black government weapons project gone awry. Oh yeah, the main character is a surfer from California. Cool.
Of course, what I love is how the Christian world-view permeates the fiction of Koontz. This does not mean everyone is moral and has G-rated English. One of the main characters of Seize the Night shacks up with his girl. And yet the vision is so right.
Consider these two passages, from Fear Nothing [warning - link contains mondo spoilers]. By way of background, the protagonist has XP, a genetic disorder which prevents him from being in any kind of light with UV waves. He has a friend, Manuel who has been tempted greatly because of his love for his son, Toby, who has Downs syndrome, but is also an idiot savant when it comes to glass blowing.
Because I was not expected to survive to adulthood, my parents raised me to play, to have fun, to indulge my sense of wonder, to live as much as possible without worry and without fear, to live in the moment with little concern for the future: in short, to trust in God and to believe that I, like everyone, am here for a purpose; to be as grateful for my limitations as for my talents and blessings, because both are part of a design beyond my comprehension. They recognized the need for me to learn self-discipline, of course, and respect for others. But, in fact, those things come naturally when You truly believe that your life has a spiritual dimension and that You are a carefully designed element in the mysterious mosaic of life. Although there had appeared to be little chance that I would outlive both parents, Mom and Dad prepared for this eventuality when I was first diagnosed: They purchased a large
second-to-die life-insurance policy, which would now provide handsomely for me even if I never earned another cent from my books and articles.
Born for play and fun and wonder, destined never to have to hold a job, destined never to be burdened by the responsibilities that weigh down most people, I could give up my writing and become such a total surf bum that Bobby Halloway, by comparison, would appear to be a compulsive workaholic with no more capacity for fun than a cabbage. Furthermore, I could embrace absolute slackerhood with no guilt whatsoever, with no qualms or doubts, because I was raised to be what all humanity might have been if we hadn't violated the terms of the lease and been evicted
and then this:
"In spite of all that he didn't have, he was always happy," I said of Toby. "He found a purpose, fulfillment. Now what if they can take him far enough that he's dissatisfied with what he is . . . but then they can't take him all the way to normal?"According to Mr. Bradley, today is the release date for the newest Odd Thomas book.
"They will," Manuel said with a measure of conviction for which there could be no justification. "They will."
"The same people who've created this nightmare?"
"It's not got only a dark side."
I thought of the pitiful wails of the visitor in the rectory attic, the melancholy quality of its changeling voice, the terrible yearning in its desperate attempts to convey meaning in a caterwaul. I thought of Orson on that summer night, despairing under the stars.
"God help You, Toby," I said, because he was my friend, too. "God bless You."
"God had His chance," Manuel said. "From now on, we'll make our own luck."