Author's books bust genres

COLORADO SPRINGS, Colo. — He's a Christian. He's a writer. But don't call Robert Liparulo a Christian writer. Liparulo, 45, writes bloodsoaked prose, novels crammed with intrigue, gunplay and the occasional beheading. Tires squeal. Tendons snap. It's as far from standard Christian fiction as a roller coaster is from a Sunday drive.

Never mind that Liparulo's books "Comes a Horseman" and "Germ" are both published by WestBow Press, a Christian publishing house. Never mind that his books are sometimes studied in church groups.

Liparulo specializes in genre-busting: He's Stephen King without swearing, C.S. Lewis with a semiautomatic. He's out to prove that a book can evoke God — yet never mention him.

"I'm not saying every writer should try to do that," Liparulo said. "But every writer should find out how God wired him to write. ... That's how I'm wired."

Liparulo, a big man who laughs easily, doesn't look like the sort who would sic blood-hungry hellhounds ("Comes a Horseman") or mad scientists ("Germ") on characters.

But it's a living. Liparulo's first two books have sold a total of 80,000 copies. The movie rights to "Comes a Horseman," released in 2005, were optioned by producer Mace Neufeld, the man behind $1 billion worth of film projects including "The Hunt for Red October." His second book, "Germ," infected shelves in October. Its movie and videogame rights already have been optioned to Red Eagle Entertainment.

Liparulo has been called a rising star in Christian publishing — odd, considering he says he doesn't write Christian fiction. Frankly, he'd like to ban the genre: Why not, he asks, let the writing speak for itself?

Liparulo's agent, Joel Gotler of Los Angeles' Intellectual Property Group, has represented best-selling secular authors such as Piers Anthony, Michael Connelly and Alice McDermott. He took on Liparulo as a client after reading "Comes a Horseman."

"I never expect any of these books to be any good," Gotler said. "But for a first book, it was great. He can plot. He can pace. He can really write."

Christianity is the faith default of most Americans — more than 80 percent, according to a recent study by Baylor University. But for decades, the world of Christian fiction languished as a publishing backwater, populated with middling books written by marginal authors.

Because Liparulo is a West-Bow author, his books sometimes get placed in the "Christian" section, rather than the "thriller" section. That's a shame, his agent says. When that happens, some folks might miss one of the thriller genre's rising stars.

The popularity of the "Left Behind" series by Tim LaHaye and Jerry Jenkins helped Christian writers make inroads into the secular market.

All told, that series has sold more than 60 million copies and helped turn Christian fiction into a much-discussed growth field — one of the few bright spots on the literary landscape. Secular retailers opened their doors to Christian books, and major publishers begot their own Christian offshoots.

But despite its success, the genre still carries a stigma.

"Christian fiction hasn't had the highest standard," Liparulo said. "The priority was to talk about God, to talk about Jesus, not to do the best we can."

Liparulo's books don't fit the Christian niche well, anyway. A Liparulo character gets "saved" from an ax-wielding killer, not eternal damnation. Christian message? No. It's more a subtle sensibility — an action-packed story line with a strictly PG grounding. His main characters don't swear; they don't sleep around. Only the bad guys do the serious killing.

Sure, there's violence, he says, but it's not pandering, "it's just saying that's what I want to read. I want to read about people running from bullets and falling out of windows, but without ... that other garbage."

Liparulo started his first novel when he was 13 but transitioned into entertainment writing as an adult. He edited Rocky Road, a defunct Colorado Springs music publication, and wrote articles for Reader's Digest, Travel & Leisure and L.A. Weekly. He wrote in his spare time, too, penning pieces of four novels. When he made a commitment to write full time about four years ago, he struggled with just what kind of writer he should be.

A still, small voice in Liparulo's mind eventually answered him. Look at Pikes Peak, the voice said. Does it have God's name written on it? Does it not still sing of his majesty?

In the same way, Liparulo's secular fiction is spiritual. He says God finds his way into his books — a still, small voice in the midst of the explosions and gunfire and general bedlam.