A fellow writer questioned the premise in my novel, Mr. Hooks. He asked how do I expect readers to believe a catfish would know anything about movies. I asked him if he was a Christian. Puzzled, he stared at me. What’s that got to do with anything? I said: You believe God became a man, don’t you? The infinite became finite, the immortal mortal, spirit flesh. He paused, unsure of his theology. Then he replied. I suppose I do. I responded: And you think it’s strange that a catfish can be a film critic?


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