by J.A. Webb | Jun 1, 2025 | Blog post
The Crusade to find thrilling fiction for Christian men continues

Disheartened and broken, haunted by the still echoing horror of my recent safari into the wilds of my local Christian bookstore’s Fantasy aisle (in my never-ending crusade to find thrilling fiction for Christian men). . . and still lacking anything new to read, I took a risk.
Yes. That risk.
I went to the bookstore-which-shall-remain-nameless across the street, closed my eyes, and dipped one hand into a bin of secular speculative fiction books, drawing a few at random. Several looked interesting. Very interesting. No surprise there, though- they always do.
It’s what’s inside the cover that’ll get you.
Oh, it’s not that they’re poorly written. Secular spec fiction still enjoys the robust support of the publishing industry, and traditionally published books are, for the most part, reliably well written.
The risk, the fear that keeps me at the edge of my seat, picking up first one, then setting it aside for another, indecision writ clear on my sweating brow, tempted yet tremulous, is the fear of the unknown.
Oh, I have no fear of the obvious stinkers, the thinly disguised ideological screeds. Those authors can’t help themselves and give away the game somewhere around the second scene. Easily avoided are any hooks any such story might throw in my path, hoping to entangle me in a pointless tale, helpless captive to their heavy-handed preaching (We’re all going to die. Next week! Unless selfish and banal Western women quit shaving their underarm hair!) or the like.
Immediately recognizing the peril and with the grace of a born dancer, I dodge, weave, and execute a deft overhanded throw- perhaps even a hook shot, if I’m feeling lucky- and those tomes describe a perfect arc into the trash bin.
I’ve even, in the most egregious cases, been known to refuse to return such to the library. Upon receipt of those inevitable and sternly worded letters about legal consequences, I fire back equally smarmy responses, informing the head librarian what a service I’ve done for society, destroying said offending book, public property or not.
More devious is another type of story. Deceptively promising stories, great in both concept and execution, which are yet riddled with underlying unstated assumptions. You know what I mean. Maybe a veiled reference to the absolute validity of the Theory (Yes, they really called it a theory, once upon a time.) of Evolution. Or perhaps some chap drops comment in dialogue about how “. . . the Bible was corrupted centuries ago and is now untrustworthy. Every fool knows that.”
Such flaws, for the sake of an otherwise enjoyable story, I can grit my teeth and ignore. (Though wouldn’t it be nice if there was so much great Christian Spec Fiction for guys that I didn’t need to? According to my dentist- that would be a very good thing.)
No, none of these fill me with the trepidation that has even now (as I clutch one volume in my left hand, one in my right, and two more balanced on my thighs, palms sweaty) left me unable to commit to any one of them for fear of the unmentionable.
Namely, that once I’ve become captivated by the story, pulled so deeply into the irresistible current of a fantastic tale, that I’ll (long after it’s too late) find some twisted world view, buried deep in those oh-so-attractive pages. One which will eventually seep from said pages, staining the foolscap, coalescing into some fiendishly, cunningly crafted, gotcha, upside-down and inside-out monstrous deconstruction of all that is right and Holy. Completely spoiling what had promised to be such a great book, turning the final climatic scenes into a grotesquery. A shocking surprise.
Like that one I got in college, when, for months I’d proudly displayed the cover of the great Alan Parsons Project album, Eve, center stage on my plank-and-cinderblock shelves. After which time a guy walked in, pointed a half-empty beer bottle at the album, and remarked, “Funny how they trick you into not seeing that funky fungus, or whatever it is, on those girl’s faces.”
I looked, then looked again. Then suddenly saw that which I’d never realized before. And have never really been okay since.
And just as I was never able to see that album the same again, or ever see those faces as pure and lovely as I once had, these treacherous stories likewise leave me able neither to forget that which I’ve read, nor mourn that which could have been, if only.
It’s these books. The ones with such promise, the ones that trick me into believing that maybe, just maybe, I’ve found the one . . . it’s these that hurt the worst.
And I’ve decided it’s time to do something about it.
If no one else will feature great fiction for Christian men, making it easier for guys like me to find great stories, then I guess it’s time I did.
So this blog post is my announcement, my declaration of a new crusade to find thrilling fiction for Christian men. My call to all the Christian Warrior-Priest authors out there. Gather near, prepare to go forth and do battle for our culture, using the Word of God and the Power of Story to reclaim our culture!
And that battle cry has been heard. A worthy band of Christian writers has already begun to answer that call. Have gathered for the assault, pens at the ready and notebooks thrust defiantly skyward as they link arms and prepare for the final charge.
Keep your eyes on this blog as the campaign gains momentum and battle plans are finalized. It’s going to be an exciting year!
In the meantime, check out the initial offering of a new writer in the field and a friend of mine, Daniel Lewczuk, chosen from the front ranks of our hardy band. And now you can sample the first fruits of what promises to be an incredibly exciting career. And it’s available in AUDIO! FREE!!
Daniel is an ex-cop who left his life of crime—not his, other’s—to spend more time with his wife and three sons. Since then he’s become an award-winning sci-fi and fantasy author, small business owner, and the creator of stunning wood pieces that inspire Muggles all over the country to ponder the worlds beyond this one. Daniel lives in southern Ontario and still wonders, “What Would John Carter Do?”
Learn more at http://www.authordaniellewczuk.com/ . . . and stay tuned. A great wave of new Christian authors remains to follow.
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by J.A. Webb | May 18, 2025 | Blog post
Something happened this week that caused me to ask: Is there any fiction genre left written for Christian men?

In the course of my ongoing and indeterminable search for great speculative fiction written for Christian men, I ventured into the Fantasy aisle at my local Christian bookstore. After all, who doesn’t love a rollicking, medieval tale of stalwart heroes combating great evil and horrible monsters? And if all else fails, a guy knows that’s the one place he might find books still written for him.
But . . . but . . . Something happened in the fantasy aisle when I wasn’t looking.
Gone are the chiseled warriors standing atop craggy mountain summits and overlooking forbidding castles, hands folded on the pommels of their swords, feet resting atop slain foes.
Instead, I now find those self-same heroes holding the waists of gowned maidens, their once determinedly set jaws now slack as they gaze into the fawning eyes of their female companions.
No monster in sight.
What’s worse, someone spilled pink ink all over the covers. And glitter!
I ran stumbling from the store, hair fisted in one hand, the knuckles of the other pressed tight to lips closed in a failed attempt to stifle my wails of mourning. Must a guy simply give up reading altogether?
In my lament, I sought solace in that well-worn office bookshelf, the one housing some of my favorite classics. I pulled a cherished tome free and hugged it to my chest while I sat, rocking forward and back, eyes unfocused. I worked through the shell shock, struggled to come to grips with this new world- one in which even that once venerable and safely testosterone-infused genre, the one formerly known as fantasy, has gone the way of the dodo bird.
Extinct. Deceased. An ex-genre, as John Cleese might say.
Finally, my heartbeat settled, and I wiped the tear-blurriness from my eyes. I opened that well-worn leather volume I clutched in still-shaking hands, laid it on the green desk blotter, clicked on my brass reading lamp, and lost myself once again in this manly tale of globe-trotting adventure, high-seas disaster, tyranny, betrayal, true loyalty, and long-delayed justice. Once in which even Jesus himself makes a early cameo and a final, triumphant entrance.
Of course, I’m speaking of the timeless epic, Ben Hur. As a baby Christian, this is one of the first Christian fiction books I found, and it’s still a favorite.
If your sole exposure to this tale is from the movies, I’ll only say you’re missing out. How can a two-hour movie capture this one-thousand two-hundred word masterpiece of a book? It can’t. And even though the movies were, in fact, great- the book is even better.
And it’s available in full-length audio! (. . . but avoid the virtual voice version). My own publisher, Blackstone Audio/Downpour, has a fantastic human-narrated unabridged audio release. And I say that not because they’re my publisher- this was a favorite long before I ever published, or even thought of such. (BTW, Downpour still, for most titles, lets you download an audio file you really own- and can keep forever- to play anywhere sans the restrictive corporate app)
So- even if the world is being turned slowly upside down, and everything a guy thought he could count on continues to crumble- there are still wonderful Christian books a guy can enjoy.
Perhaps soon we’ll be able to bring you one that’s not one hundred and forty-five years old!!???
by J.A. Webb | May 4, 2025 | Blog post

Is pulp Sci-Fi making a comeback? Is this a good thing for Christian readers?
As a lad I consumed bushel basketfuls of what were, even then, vintage paperbacks from the Golden Age of Science Fiction. Voraciously. Much of it blatant (and unabashed) pulp fiction, but some of it extremely well-written. There were even a few unsung masterpieces, glittering jewels which still shine bright in memory while the thousands upon thousands of others have been forgotten.
So it’s been with a sense of remorse that, in recent years, I’ve largely abandoned the genre. It’s just too frustrating to pick up book after book after book, all of which look so appealing on the shelf, only to find inside those glowing covers an endless array of tiresome and alarmist Climate Change diatribes, LGBTQ normalization, and various other flavors of cultural indoctrination too numerous to mention.
I mean, come on Lois McMaster Bujold! Miles Vorkosigan is a great read, and so much fun. Why you gotta mess it up like that?
It makes a guy want to give up. At least I did. Nearly.
But every now and again, I give it another try. I won’t say this week’s selection is a classic that will continue to inhabit memory for decades. But it was a story worthy of attention.
Nether Station by Kevin J. Anderson is a tale that hearkens back to those of my youth. The story itself evinces memories of Arthur C. Clarke, Larry Niven, Poul Anderson and company. A great concept and an exciting tale, just enough action and mystery to keep the pages turning.
What keeps this from being one of those timeless jewels, at least for me, are but a few minor annoyances.
First, I sense in the backstory a hint of what may develop, in later books, into a full-blown case of transpermia. At least in the spiritual sense, if not the literal. Those faint echoes, vaguely reminiscent of Chariots of the Gods, are even now beginning to give me hives. (Okay, fine- look it up if you can’t resist, but don’t waste your time reading it- other than as a cautionary example of the dangerous places the unrestrained and God-denying imagination . . . and fraudulent archaeology . . . can go) Where’d I put that Calamine lotion, anyway?
But I hope I’m wrong, and I guess I’ll have to read on to find out if Kevin was really hinting that Satan was nothing more than a really mean alien visitor. Will he seriously go there?
Second is this. I nearly broke a molar gritting my teeth every time I heard the words “he knew” and “he realized” and “he wondered”. A circumstance which occurred repeatedly. In every paragraph.
Is it just me just me? After all, much of that Golden Age Sci Fi I spoke of was a mishmash of Omniscient POV, shallow sensory detail, non-existent internal dialogue, thumb-fisted narrative “telling”, and head-hopping.
The thing is- over time, fiction has trended to a closer, deeper POV, a more tightly focused mental “camera” and a less intrusive narrator. This change has been good, in my opinion. Give me compelling deep POV, put me INSIDE the head of the protagonist, make me FEEL what he’s feeling. Don’t tell me about it.
Lately I’ve noticed that a lot of modern hard Sci-Fi is written in that older, “telling” narrative style. Perhaps it’s intentional? I’ve had several people, both readers and writers, tell me they prefer this. I’ve even heard it suggested it’s making a comeback. A new trend.
However, I contend that Strunk and White’s Elements of Style was around long before the Golden Age of Science Fiction. That these are not valid writing styles but errors which impede the story. That the transformation of narrative style has been a good thing- creating more evocative, deeper, more compelling fiction.
But perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps there is a contingent out there that really enjoys this style. If you’re one of those folks, let me know. Send me an email- tell me I’m wrong. And why.
Now, back to the story . . . and in this case, thankfully, we’re talking about a “clean” story that a Christian Man could enjoy, even through the occasional gritted jaw. And aside from the (potential) denial of the history of Creation that I sense waiting in the wings- one worthy of your time . . . when you, like I, can’t find great Christian-made fiction for men.
A condition that still, even in the midst of our epic and ongoing search for great Christian fiction, I still all-too-often suffer.
by J.A. Webb | Apr 20, 2025 | Blog post

After writing the heroic tales of Tarzan and John Carter of Mars, did Edgar Rice Burroughs slip up and write an anti-hero?
As a kid, I sampled what was, even then, a set of dusty antique tomes with titles such as Tarzan of the Apes, The Jungle tales of Tarzan, and The Beasts of Tarzan. Though they never earned the top shelf in my bookcase, I enjoyed the books- rousing tales of heroic adventure and unabashed male chivalry. At least the earlier books in the series were, though I remember a few scenes from later books . . .
At any rate, one day while perusing the precariously stacked and mouldering offerings in a musty old used bookshop, I found another of Burroughs’s novels. One I’d never heard of. And likely one you’ve never heard of, either, though in the opinion of my teenage self, this story outshone the rest of the Tarzan and John Carter books combined. I still agree with that estimation, even today. This is the best of Burroughs’s works, and one you shouldn’t miss.
The Mucker was originally published as several separate stories from 1913 to 1916. The very large novel I happened upon was what we’d now call the Omnibus, including the entire series, and an epic tale it was.
My young heart thrilled at the adventure, and if it’s not too much of a spoiler, at the progression of the main character from nave to nobleman, from predator to protector. The kind of tale a man of any age can appreciate.
And even though my tastes lean toward the Speculative, there’s still something about this tale that draws me, even now, to revisit it. Perhaps it’s the epic scope of the story, perhaps it’s the non-stop action, but more likely it’s owing to the happily and unrepentantly extreme testosterone level- which is so high from first page to last that, even now, it’s oozing, running like molasses down the tattered old leather spine where it sits on my bookshelf.
Maybe it’s time to pull it down again, though several outlets now offer it in audio. Choices, choices.
So- our search for great fantastical fiction that Christian men can enjoy, though yet lacking a plethora of modern offerings, can as always, find satisfaction in the greats of the past. Like The Mucker.
May we soon bring you many new releases equally great.
by J.A. Webb | Apr 5, 2025 | Blog post

Can Christian men really enjoy middle-grade stories seen through the eyes of a thirteen-year-old boy?
If you’ve been reading this blog for any time, you are aware how frustrating has been my search to find thrilling fiction written for Christian men. So often, I retreat to the great classics of the past, all the while moaning, “Where are the great modern Christian writers . . . who are writing for men?”
Sometimes I even take a peek into the YA and MG section, open a few covers, then too often shuffle home empty handed- to pick one of the afore-mentioned classics off my own bookshelf.
I mean, really! How many guys are going to be hooked by a story featuring a pack of snarky teen-age girls? By stories about a geeky kid bullied by the high-school quarterback? We may have lived that story ourselves . . . but who wants to go back and re-live it? Give us stakes that resonate!
Yes, like a bad Groundhog Day nightmare, bookstore offerings too frequently disappoint the Christian man.
But not today.
At the recommendation of a friend- thanks Jeremiah!– yet with trepidation, I picked up A Monster Calls by Patrick Ness. I think it was the ent-like green man on the cover that tipped the scales. Who doesn’t love a walking tree monster?
But still, that trepidation was real, having been so repeatedly disappointed by the insipid young protagonists who’ve invaded in so many otherwise promising MG/YA stories. Don’t writers remember what it was like to be young? None of us were ever so vapid. Foolish, perhaps. But not that. At least I hope not.
So it was with great surprise and not a little joy that I entered the world of Monster and found a thirteen-year-old POV character who, not only didn’t make me cringe, but was so well-written that I forgot his age altogether. Was instead swept away by the tale.
Beyond that, I’ll say little about the story. I don’t want to spoil anything for you.
But I will leave with this one caution. Don’t listen to the (very well narrated) audio while driving. Doing so with fogged eyes is highly unsafe. Thanks a lot for the tear-jerker Josiah!
So, though our epic quest for great fiction written for Christian men may not have yielded any new adult fiction this week- still, we did come away with one worthy MG/YA offering.
I’ll take the win.