Wm Paul Young Youtube

[Azalee Freas]

Wm. Paul Young's debut novel The Shack was a revelation in many ways. Whilst many disagreed with his theology, it was refreshing to see such an overtly faith based book on the bestseller lists. Personally, I found it a very moving story and whilst I thought it helpful on some points, it tended to skim over others. Now we get to see if Young can repeat his success with his new novel, Cross Roads.

By all the measures that he cares to use, Anthony Spencer is a success. He has made large amounts of money and owns a lot of property. His personal life has not gone so well, with a son who dies young, an ex-wife who he married and divorced twice and an estranged daughter who hates him. His mother died when he and his brother were young and he harbours resentment for what he sees as her desertion and he has lost contact with his brother.

One day, Anthony collapses suffering from an undiagnosed brain tumour and is in a coma in hospital. Whilst in this state, he meets Jesus, who gives him the opportunity to return to put things right and confront areas of his life where he has not treated people well. He finds himself first in the body of Cabby, a 16 year old with Down's Syndrome and later Maggie, a friend of Cabby's.

Cross Roads did not start well. In setting up the character of Anthony Spencer, Young uses far too many metaphors and the opening section of the book feels like he's trying too hard to write well. There's a sense of what Stephen King calls author intrusion and much of the writing feels like Young was trying to show off. It took too long and felt very uncomfortable to read. In trying so hard to write well, the result was an awful piece of writing.

Later, there were scenes that felt like padding. One scene between Anthony and Maggie in the church seemed to be there for comedic effect and did little to advance the plot. Later, a part with Pastor Skor and Maggie served only to introduce Elder Clarence who would be useful later on, but it felt like a long-winded and clumsy device merely to introduce a character.

However, just when I'd battled through these parts of the book and was primed to dislike it, something incredible happened. The latter parts of the book feature some incredibly vivid emotional writing that was nearly powerful enough to sweep away my earlier concerns. The ending in particular was enough to bring a tear to my eye, such was the emotional impact of the writing.

As in The Shack there are areas where Young's theology doesn't quite mesh with my own and certain aspects again felt slightly glossed over. In particular, the changes in Anthony's character seemed to happen more quickly and with less discussion than his earlier personality traits suggested were likely. It felt as if Young had an idea about how Jesus would speak into a situation, but less about how someone may argue against that wisdom.

However, in a number of other areas, the presentation was excellent. Young's personification of some of the negative aspects of Anthony's character as he confronted them was very imaginative. The presentation of the mind of an Alzheimer's sufferer from the inside and the picture of Anthony's memory holding on to his dead son were also very well portrayed.

As with The Shack, I find myself feeling ambivalent about Cross Roads. This is a book that contains both sublime and ridiculous, although not in that order. A few pages from the beginning, I was distinctly unimpressed, but a few pages from the end, I was greatly moved. This may not be a book to win Young too many new fans, but those who love his first will love this second. If you're seeking answers to faith questions, this isn't somewhere you will find those, but it's an interesting and emotional read in many parts.

You can read more book reviews or buy Cross Roads by Wm Paul Young at Amazon.co.uk Amazon currently charges 2.99 for standard delivery for orders under 20, over which delivery is free.

You can read more book reviews or buy Cross Roads by Wm Paul Young at Amazon.com.

My maternal grandmother, Kate Inglis, lived through two world wars. She had 12 children, and several more who didn't survive. Over the years I heard stories about her, like her trade in black market goods, bought and sold in the back streets of Glasgow. She also liked a drink.

I didn't see Kate after we left Glasgow for Australia in 1962, so when I visited Scotland in 1976, I contacted an aunt to find her. Kate was in hospital. Her leg was in plaster, as she'd broken it after falling from the windowsill on which she'd sat to clean the outside window. She looked at me blearily: "You're Agnes's boy." Kate was a lovely woman, but very tough.

My paternal grandmother, Annie Flynn, came to Glasgow from Ireland. She had 10 children. My grandfather died when I was about two, which meant she was the matriarch of her family. She wore her hair in a bun and apparently after turning 45 never wore make-up or looked in the mirror again.

Mum's sister, Rita, also lived with us. Rita loved rock and roll. She was 17 when I was nine, and took us kids to see [the 1957 Elvis Presley film] Jailhouse Rock. She was always jiving around the flat in stockings, trying to drag us into her world. It was great.

Growing up, my oldest sister Rena and I fought. I remember throwing things at her. My younger sister, Anne, is quieter, but when she and Rena get together, the family runs a mile. We know they'll still be going at it come 3am.

My first kiss was in Glasgow. I was 11 but I can't recall who it was with. At that age I had a three-piece Italian-cut suit, and wore winkle-picker shoes. You grow up fast in big cities.

When we arrived in Sydney in 1962, we spent two years in a migrant hostel. I exchanged my suit for shorts. I remember sitting by the banks of Williams Creek in western Sydney and loving it. If I'd stayed in Glasgow I would have been married by 17, because that's what people did.

My first girlfriend was at 17. It was nothing serious, just awkwardness and a lot of fumbling. I didn't have a social life, as the Elm Tree band took up most of my time. We rehearsed in a chook shed in Leppington, a few suburbs from our housing commission home.

I acted on a fan letter from a girl once, and I'm sorry I did. Nothing happened when we met, but I knew that scenario wasn't for me. If someone is chasing you that hard, it's never a good thing.

I was attracted to Lynette's style, her no-nonsense attitude, which my 41-year-old daughter Amanda has inherited. Amanda is fairly reserved, but has steeliness to her, which she showed at age 23 when she bought a one-way ticket to London to go backpacking. It takes a lot of courage to do that.

It was because of Amanda that Lynette and I got married after 27 years together. We went to the registry office so Amanda could get a British passport. Marriage wasn't a big deal for either of us.

Lynette doesn't take any shit from me. She has caustic wit. Recently, I said I had to do things on our boat but couldn't until I had done an interview. She said, "Well, that won't take long." She probably is impressed by what I've achieved, but she'd never tell me.

I didn't see Kate after we left Glasgow for Australia in 1962, so when I visited Scotland in 1976, I contacted an aunt to find her. Kate was in hospital. Her leg was in plaster, as she'd broken it after falling from the windowsill on which she'd sat to clean the outside window. She looked at me blearily: \\\"You're Agnes's boy.\\\" Kate was a lovely woman, but very tough.

Like Kate, my mother Agnes was a solid woman \\u2013 she died almost six years ago. In Glasgow, my dad Jimmy had three jobs \\u2013 a stonemason weekdays, a bouncer at a bar a few nights a week, and in the Air Force Reserve on weekends \\u2013 so Mum meted out the discipline.

Her mothering style was tough love. I'd whine that I didn't want to go to school. She'd say: \\\"Aye, you'll go. With your lip trembling, you'll go.\\\" She wasn't having any soppy stuff.

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