So, I had never heard of Paraclete Press when I picked this book up at my local library. I had a hint from the name of the publisher, naturally, but still.. it should have been more of a warning than it was.

The cover art is misleadingly charming, with its flavors of the fantastic Showtime series “Dead Like Me”—a grim reaper sitting on top of a washing machine in a laundromat. Hmm. The liner notes, too, only hint at what the reader really has in store for him.

Basically, this is a big fat parable in novel form. I’m not entirely against the odd dose of religion in my art, but I do at least want it to be art. This is to literature what the crappy cartoony stained-glass windows they put up in my home church when they remodeled it in the 90s are to Caravaggio. The old simple two-tone panes were much better, and so is the actual Bible.

(For the record, I am a filthy unbeliever but not one of those religion-haters like Richard Dawkins et al)

This had moments of humor and some fun ideas—I liked the mystics at the Instant Coffee cup, very Church of Fred Mertz Bodhisattva—but all in all, pretty bland and a bit too preachy.

Sigh.