Dancing Priest

Author and Novelist Glynn Young

Dancing Prince

The Pleasures of Reading a Physical Book

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I read a lot of e-books. Reviewing poetry for Tweetspeak Poetry means I’m read a lot of collections in pdf or e-book formats. Reviewing books on my Faith, Fiction, Friends blog means the same thing, although almost all of those books are e-books and specifically books found on Amazon Kindle.

I like my Amazon Kindle Fire (I also have the Kindle app on my laptop and phone). It saves considerable bookshelf space, for one thing. Many of the books I have there will be read once and not likely read again at some time in the future. While the prices of some Kindle books, particularly more academic ones, are eyebrow-raising, most Kindle book prices are reasonable and usually cheaper than the hardback or paperback.

Two recent books I read, however, reminded me of the pleasures of holding and reading a physical book. 

The Lost Tales of Sir Galahad, with stories by various authors, was recently published by The Rabbit Room. It’s a beautiful book, with a bright red embossed cover, creative stories, and wonderful illustrations by Ned Bustard. I’m trying to imagine it as an e-book, and I don’t think it would work as well.

The Bodleian Library recently published a new edition of “Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard,” the famous poem by Thomas Gray. It includes wonderful wood engravings by Agnes Miller Parker, first published in 1938. Her black-and-white illustrations remind me of the paintings by Thomas Hart Benton, full of motion and activities. It’s another book that wouldn’t work as well in an electronic format. (You can read my review of the book at Tweetspeak Poetry.)

There’s something about holding a physical book that brings additional pleasure to reading, probably not unlike holding a printed newspaper adds something to reading the news that an online version doesn’t have. It may be that, for non-fiction books, you can find something more quickly in the index, or that a physical text allows you to see a page as something more than only one screen. Or perhaps I’m just more comfortable with a physical text; it’s the one I’ve known since my mother was reading Grimm Fairy Tales aloud when I was two and three years old.

And that could be it – a physical text creates associations – with its place on a shelf, with people, with what was happening at the time – that an e-book or pdf doesn’t. And a physical text suggests a greater degree of permanence – it’s there even if your internet connection goes down or the battery on your Kindle goes out.

My five novels in the Dancing Priest series were first published on Amazon Kindle in e-book format, followed shortly thereafter by the paperback editions. A couple of months ago, my publisher told me that he’d been contacted by a firm that produced hardback versions, and those editions were also now available. I checked Amazon, and sure enough, there they were. 

I bought the first in the series, Dancing Priest, to see what the binding was like. There’s no dust cover or book jacket, but the cover is a sturdy laminated cardboard. It’s not a durable, say, as a hand-stitched leather, but it’s certainly more durable than a paperback. And, yes, I ended up buying all five hardbacks. At $34.99, they’re not inexpensive. But what can an author say?

I picked the last one in the series, Dancing Prince, and read the hardcover version. I can’t say there was anything remarkably different from the paperback, but I did find a slight, perhaps significant, difference. The book, and the story, felt more substantial.

I’ll continue to buy e-books; they’re provide a means to read good writing without breaking the budget. I’ll continue to buy hardbacks and paperbacks, particularly for books I want to keep, reread, and have ready access to because I know exactly where they are or the shelf.

Top photo by Jaredd Craig. Amazon Kindle photo by Freestocks. Both via Unsplash and used with permission.

The Character of Michael in the Dancing Priest Novels

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After Dancing Priest was published in late 2011, I received an email from a reader in Seattle. He liked the book. He liked the book so much that he said it should be required reading for young men under the age of 20. 

He said this, he said, because the character of Michael was all about standing firm and true in the face of adversity. “There’s a nobility in the character of Michael Kent that we should all aspire to.” That character is demonstrated in large things, like an Olympic tragedy, and in smaller things, like taking in a motherless eight-year-old boy.

By the second Novel, A Light Shining, Michael Kent has become Michael Kent-Hughes, husband of Sarah. He wears his wealth lightly. Finding his family in Italy, instead of doing the legal thing, he does the right thing. And he faces the great personal adversity of any in the five novels, when he nearly dies. In fact, for a significant section of the book, Michael is unconscious, and the focus shifts to Sarah. 

In Dancing King, with Britain in physical shambles, Michael could have walked away from family responsibilities and the royal invitation that’s fallen to him. But he doesn’t take the easy way out. Months before the coronation, he learns that he’s facing serious opposition and a pile of dirty tricks. He and the staff he’s selected to work with him meet each one head one, turning potential adversity into advantage. 

Michael, as head of the Church of England, finds himself engulfed in a church mega-scandal in Dancing Prophet. The church scandal begins to erupt at the same time the Greater London Council reaches a political impasse, budgets expire, and the transport and sanitation workers go one strike. Michael is all of 30 years old in the story, but his sense of responsibility carries him forward. 

As the last of the series, Dancing Prince, begins, Michael is 35. He’s effectively the nation’s czar, parliamentary government having collapsed some years earlier. His sense of responsibility is still carrying him forward, but there are cracks, especially in his family life. He and Sarah have grown apart; trouble is brewing in their marriage. The flashpoint becomes their youngest child, Thomas, and one incident will haunt the family for the next 20 years. 

This is a somewhat different Michael than the theology student and cycling enthusiast in the first story. He knows that the pressures of his position are allowing his family to slip through his fingers. He’s physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted. People are talking about Sarah avoiding evening activities at the palace. And one person, their youngest child, will bear the brunt of the estrangement.

Much of the younger man remains, but this is a man who’s been shaped, and sometimes mauled, by the job. In the previous stories, he was something of an idealized character. In the last one, he becomes more real. 

Top photograph by Benjamin Rascoe via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Recent Reviews of “Dancing Prince”

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Here are four recent reviews of Dancing Prince, posted on Amazon. Nothing touches an author’s heart like seeing people connect to something he’s written.

“’We are always part of a story larger and older than ourselves.’ ~ the fictional Farley McNeill, Ph.D. in the Foreward to fictional Erika’s fiction story.

“Love. Loss. Grief. Grace. Kindness. Compassion. Politics. Royalty. Romance. Family Dynamics. Mystery. Suspense. Humor. Art. Archeology. Christian Vikings. Well-rounded characters. Detailed description. Rich imagery. This book has it all.

“It’s not a slim book, either. And I read it in a weekend, though reduced to tears as soon as the first chapter. I woke up this morning still thinking about the book and wishing the series didn’t have to end.

“The characters are well developed, and there’s a cast of characters if you forget who’s who. Descriptions are detailed–but not so much that you get lost. The imagery is rich. Also, there’s enough backstory in this book that it can stand alone. But if I were you, I’d read the whole series. This is a story–and a family–that will stick with me.”  — Sandra

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“Remember when the last LOTR movie won all the award, partly in recognition for the achievement of the series? I liken that to this last book in the five-book Kent-Hughes saga. It’s a great story although not my favorite in the series (that’s book 3, “Dancing King”). And there is, in this one, a return of the king.

“The first two chapters really grabbed me and set up what is to come in the rest of the novel. I really enjoyed when the story went on remote, taking place in a new location, just to shake things up. Like another reviewer said, I loved the epilogue and thought it capped off the entire series.

“I am sad to see the story end, but it ended well and, I think, at the right spot. This is a series I have recommended to others and will continue to recommend.

“Well done, Glynn!” – Megan

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“I have been completely captivated by Glynn Young’s cast of characters in The Dancing Priest series, but this final story is a crowning gem (pun intended). And the epilogue is the sweetest surprise. Such lovely, lovely storytelling. I couldn’t stop reading until the end.” – Laura 

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“I read the other four books by Glynn. Loved them. I was right into the life of the people. Hated to come to the end and found this one The Dancing Prince. Got it immediately and loved it. Very interesting. Involved in so many intriguing people with so many interesting stories. Loved the dig on the special island and the findings. Then to make everything even more intriguing, a story involving the people revolved around the dig. I don’t want to give it away. I tried another book because I love books, but this new one left me down. Nothing compared to the Glynn Young books. He’s an exceptional writer. Wish he had another ten or more books available. Read these books, you will not regret it.” – Del 

Top photograph by Max Delsid via Unsplash, Used with permission.

Giving a Minor Character a Bigger Role

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The character of David Hughes, twin brother of Sarah Hughes, has been a part of the Dancing Priest series from the beginning. In Dancing Priest, the first novel, it was David who had decided to do a study year abroad in Scotland, dragging his sister along with him. David was the scholar in the family, and at the University of Edinburgh he was studying Scottish history. Because of a fire at his dormitory, David ends up rooming with Michael Kent and Tommy McFarland, even though they’re two years older. And it’s Tommy’s girlfriend Ellen who fixes David up on a blind date with Betsy, whom he’d eventually marry.

The character of David Hughes served as something of a counterpoint to Michael and Tommy. They’ve been friends since they were six years old and have roomed together at St. Andrews during their entire time at university. David is the quiet American, the scholarly outsider, contrasting with the outgoing McFarland and the self-confident and often-quite-candid Michael. McFarland is an outspoken champion of Scotland and Scottish independence; David is the young man who’s been in love with Scotland from afar and is now living exactly where he wants to live.

David and Sarah experience family upheaval when their father turns his back and cuts off all communication with them and their older brother Scott, a doctor in San Francisco. As a result, the Hughes twins spend Christmas at McLarens, the home of Ian and Iris McLaren, the guardians for Michael. While there, David helps Ian, an equine veterinarian, deliver a foal.

David has very small roles in the next three books in the series, but I always felt he deserved something more. The opportunity for that arrived with Dancing Prince. 

Some 30 years have passed since the first novel. David is a history professor at the University of St. Andrews. He and Betsy have two now-grown children. Over the years, it is David who has become a key figure in the life of Thomas Kent-Hughes, the youngest of Michael and Sarah’s children. 

As Michael grows more estranged from Tommy, David unintentionally helps to fill the gap, to the point where Tommy feels closer to his uncle than to his own father. Early in the story, Tommy and his father experience one of the many crises in their relationship, and it’s to David in St. Andrews to whom Tommy flees from London. When it’s time for college, Tommy will select St. Andrews, and a large part of the reason is that David teaches there. 

In many significant ways, Tommy becomes part of the Hughes family, and he clearly feels more comfortable with his uncle than with his father. Tommy looks more like his uncle than he does Michael, and he’s often mistaken for David’s son. They share a love of scholarship, and early on David is guiding Tommy in his pursuit of Norse and Icelandic languages. And it’s a reciprocal relationship. When David’s own son experiences a breakdown, it’s Tommy to whom David turns for help. 

The character of David was a quiet, stabilizing one from the beginning. Those characters rarely get center stage is stories and novels. Dancing Prince offered the opportunity to bring David out of the background and give him a significant part in the story. And, as it turns out, it will be a crucial part that he plays. Michael will eventually tell Tommy that he owes David a debt he can never repay, “for being there for you when I wasn’t.” David is something of an unsung hero of the Dancing Priest stories, and it was gratifying to give him his due. 

Top photograph by Shipman Northcutt via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Did “Dancing Prophet” Become Prophetic?

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In 2012, I had a conversation with my publisher about the future novels planned in the Dancing Priest series. Dancing Priest had been published in late 2011, and the publication of A Light Shining was imminent. I walked him through what I saw as the main subjects and themes of several additional books (another six, if I remember correctly, which eventually became another three). 

The fourth book was to focus on the conflict between Michael Kent-Hughes and the Church of England hierarchy, which would eventually lead to a reformation. The catalyst would be a child sexual abuse scandal, happening over decades and facilitated (as in, covered up) by the church. The inspiration for this was the scandal in the Roman Catholic Church; what I did was to transfer the Catholic scandal to the Church of England. Or so I thought.

Two weeks after that conversation, my publisher sent me an article that had just been published in Britain. It looked like the Church of England had its own, homegrown child abuse scandal, and didn’t need any fictional help from the Catholic church. 

Dancing Prophet, the fourth novel in the Dancing Priest series, was published in 2018. That year, more revelations were unfolding about the Church of England. In 2019, an independent inquiry was established to look at what had happened and why. Last week, the inquiry panel released its study. 

It sounded like the story line in Dancing Prophet. My wife says I need to stop writing about things that become true.

It gives me no particular joy that real events seem to follow several of the key events in the Dancing Priest stories. (Sometimes, the correlations aren’t horrific, like the DNA study made of Vikings that sounded a lot like what happens in Dancing Prince.) But it does seem uncanny at times. I don’t have the gift of prophecy, but I’ve asked myself, how do real events happen that mirror the stories I wrote in my five novels?

I don’t have a solid answer. I have an idea of what happens, and it has to do with the research I do for the stories and the work experience I’ve had.

The Dancing Priest novels are not historical novels in the strict sense. They’re not about the past. They are more futurehistorical novels, because they’re set in the soon-to-happen future. (One reviewer has called them alternative historical novels.) But they are based on considerable reading and research and first-hand experiences on visits to London and England.

The streets Sarah’s car has to take from Buckingham Palace to the Tate Britain (Dancing Prophet)? I’ve walked them. The visit Michael makes with the two boys to the Imperial War Museum and the Guards Museum Shop (Dancing Prince)? I’ve done both. Taking a train from King’s Cross Station (Dancing Prince)? Been there, done that. A tube ride from South Kensington to the Tower of London (Dancing King)? Yep. And the books I’ve read have ranged from Peter Ackroyd’s multi-volume History of England and a history of coronations to a domestic history of the British royal household and a history of the Church of England.

My work experience has also served as a resource. Working for two Fortune 500 companies, a Fortune 1000 company, a public institution, a newspaper, and my own business has taught me a lot about how organizations respond to crises. Almost by default, the initial response is self-protection. The ongoing response tends to be self-protection. And that response can put public relations people in very difficult positions. The fact that the Church of England responded to its child sex abuse crisis almost exactly like the Roman Catholic Church did is no surprise.

You don’t have to be a prophet when basic human nature never changes. 

Top photograph by Cajeo Zhang via Unsplash. Used with permission.

A Tale of Two Paintings

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I’ve talked about how an exhibition at the Tate Modern plays a critical role in Dancing Prince. In turn, two paintings in the exhibition play a critical role in the narrative of the novel. 

Jason Kent-Hughes, the adopted son of Michael and Sarah, is working as an assistant curator at the Tate Modern. Sarah describes him as their “San Francisco street child with a gift for painting and art administration.” After graduating from school in London, he did a year of military and then enrolled at the Slade School of Fine Art, part of University College London. After receiving his degree, he joined the Tate Modern.

As he explains to Michael, he gave a talk at the museum about the paintings done by Sarah that are in the Tate’s collection. It’s part of a regular weekly feature, he says, in which a staff member speaks about their choice of topic – something they’re working on, something in the collection, an upcoming exhibition, a research project, and so on. 

The lectures are open to the public and generally draw anywhere from 30 to 300 people, apart from the staff attending. Jason’s talk on Sarah’s paintings brings 2,000, forcing the museum to move the event to Power Hall (the Tate Modern’s huge interior space). It’s also videotaped and posted for sale on the museum’s web site, resulting in 30,000 orders during the first day. The museum suspects there’s a huge financial and artistic potential here, and it asks Jason to curate a major exhibition of Sarah’s work. Assembling the exhibition becomes his full-time job for the next 18 months.

Jason uses a journal of works kept by Sarah, starting with the paintings she did for her senior university project (described in Dancing Priest). Through some fairly intense work, he’s able to track 99 of her 101 listed paintings. The two that he can’t locate are the last ones, and they’re described in the journal with rather puzzling letters. What he knows is that these two paintings are likely important, because Sarah had been evolving her style and clearly reaching for something more.

Jim Kent-Hughes, the other adopted son of Michael and Sarah, accidentally comes across painting #100. It is their youngest child, Tommy, who holds the key to painting #101. All of Sarah’s paintings, and even her studio, become flashpoints in the relationship between Michael and Tommy. But those two paintings will be the most serious tension points. 

I’d like to say I understood exactly what I was doing when I developed the story of the two paintings. Perhaps I did, subconsciously. But it was only after the book was published, and I had reread it (twice), that I realized the story of the two paintings are the bookends for the entire series of five novels. Sarah’s paintings and art play an important role in the first book, Dancing Priest. And they play a critical role in the final book, Dancing Prince.

The story of the two paintings also speaks to something else – the meaning of art in our lives. We can look at a painting say “I like it” or “I don’t like it” or “They call that art? I could have painted that.” Or we can be so struck by a painting that words fail us. The first time that happened to me was in London, and (surprise) it was at the Tate Modern. It was a portrait of Marguerite Kelsey by Meredith Frampton. That one painting brought me back three times to the museum during a 2012 visit, and I still don’t know if I can adequately describe the impression it made on me. Another annual exhibition in London that we’ve seen all five times we’ve visited is the BP Portrait Awards, which has a similar effect on me. 

In Dancing Prince, those last two paintings will affect virtually every character who sees them in a very similar way that those paintings in London affected me. For Michael and Tommy, the impact will be far greater. 

Top photograph by Abbie Bernet, and middle photograph by Zalfa Imani, via Unsplash. Used with permission.