 Sixty-six? Or Seventy-three? How many books are in one’s Bible? Why is there a difference? And does it matter? All of these questions and more are resolved in today’s subject book. As He ascended into Heaven, Jesus did not momentarily pause, poke His head through the clouds, hand down a book, and say, “Here’s your Bible.” While divinely inspired, the Christian Scriptures were assembled by men on earth via the great gift of assistance of the Holy Spirit. They have since been read, rearranged, and debated by the Faithful, a process that continues today. Dr. Aaron Walden has given us a guide that, with high authority and handsome presentation, explains that process. Walden, Dr. Aaron G., The Formation of the Bible: A Defense for the Deuterocanon, Augusta: Northwood Biblical and Canonical Studies, 2026 (with Robert Bowden as Contributing Editor)(Kindle Ed.) Dr. Aaron Walden, D.Min., “a biblical scholar, teacher, and Catholic content creator,” is a man of many talents and one holding true fidelity to Jesus Christ and His Church. Walden possesses extreme scholarly prowess concerning scriptural matters. And he has an uncanny way of presenting his research in a manner both informative and easy to read, a phenomenon on display in the subject work of this review. This new book is, to your reviewer’s knowledge, Walden’s first published tome, though it is not the first of his Biblical writings I have had the privilege to read. (I remember Ruth, Dr. Walden!) The Formation of the Bible is available at Amazon. Robert Bowman is an excellent editor. And in his introductory remarks, he appropriately sums up the principles that make The Formation of the Bible work: “This book on the formation of the Bible may be read with confidence, as its historical treatment, theological reasoning, and overall framing stand comfortably within the Church’s received understanding of Scripture and the canon.” The book is a survey, not an argument. And while it is geared towards Western Christianity, and proceeds primarily from a Western history, it is an accurate representation of the title matter. Therefore, for those interested in why certain editions of the Bible contain books that others do not, it is an indispensable resource. Bowman also did a fine job of assuring clarity and continuity of thought and organizing the book in a way that is authoritative and relatable. Noting the proper placement of the deuterocanonical books into the Bible, in his Preface, Walden is candid about his purpose and intentions: “I wrote this book to serve readers who, like the man I once was, hunger to understand how the Bible came to be yet lacked access to advanced theological libraries or formal academic training. … This book is intended for serious readers of Scripture, both clerical and lay, who seek historical and theological depth presented in plain language.” He then delivers what he promises. There is a tacit assumption at work that the reader is a pre-existing Christian of some denomination, or is a potential convert actively seeking reference guidance. There is no stern push towards one camp or another. That is refreshing in a Christian world where theological or doctrinal pronouncements are too frequently “my way or the highway.” Walden merely presents what came to be, along with the attendant hows concerning the whats. Walden begins with necessary definitions and subtle differentiations. He then proceeds to ground the superseding Christian doctrine on the ancient Hebrew Scriptures as observed before the miraculous fact of Christ’s birth. Next, he walks through the fulfilling words, actions, and ways of Jesus and His Apostles, including the fitting in of the deuterocanon. Then he works into the early patristic life within the Great Church. A key passage comes on page 38, concerning the approach of the early Fathers to the deuterocanonical books:
Walden’s book is also a pristine defense, explicating without preaching, of the mandatory importance of participatory life within the Church, Christ’s Bride. He deftly harnesses history, debate, linguistic analysis, and more in his reasoning and exegesis. Moving through the Christian centuries, he notes various paths walked here and there by Believers. A wonderful subsection, “The Harmony of Faith and Reason,” is found in Chapter 8. I say “wonderful” because Walden does a beautiful job of presenting and reconciling the somewhat divergent but necessarily integral conditions of the logical and trusting approaches to Christian faith and involvement. “Harmony…” sets the stage for Walden’s treatment of the Reformation, centered on the Continental takes of Luther and Calvin. He does a fantastic job of explaining why certain edits were made to Protestant Bibles, as well as providing the Catholic response of 1546 at the Council of Trent. He also artfully links the adherence to the doctrine of Sola Scriptura with the fragmentation of Protestantism. Walden notes, on page 79: “The irony was profound. In seeking to restore the Bible’s authority, the Reformers removed themselves from the very tradition through which the Bible had been transmitted for centuries.” This is somewhat similar to Leonid Savin’s brief examination of Protestantism in Ordo Pluriversalis (2020), though, whereas Savin expands his review into political and economic matters, Walden limits his analysis to the divergent traditions of the various Scriptural doctrinal principles. In his conclusion, Walden speaks, on page 87, to the importance of fidelity to the Scriptures, including the deuterocanonical volumes among them:
The appended materials are a plethora of guiding summations. In them, among other information, the reader will find easy-to-follow canons of the Protestant, Catholic, Orthodox, and even Coptic Christian faiths. Appendix G: “Common Objections to the Catholic Canon and Responses” is worth reading in its own right. The book ends as it begins, with a glossary of definitions and a comprehensive list of citations. Nothing in Walden’s book is a condemnation of any Christian’s particular route to appreciating the Bible. Rather, it is a synthesis, lovingly exhibited in order to foster better and congenial understanding. One day, by the grace and power of God, all fractured Christian sects will be reunited. But we are under a duty while we wait to live, worship, commune, and fathom as best we are able. Aaron Walden has just helped us out in this paramount endeavor. The Formation of the Bible is available in paperback and digital formats. It is a needful and wonderful resource that will benefit any and all Christians, along with anyone else who desires more information about the processes that led to the published editions of the Bible today, whether Protestant, Latin Catholic, or Orthodox. I strongly recommend that the reader add it to his library. This was previously published at Perrin Lovett on April 23, 2026.
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 Here we go again! Generation X, elders, young folks, it’s once again time to head back to the glory of the 1980s. Here’s another brief look at Chris Orcutt’s unfolding masterpiece, Bodaciously True & Totally Awesome. Specifically, it’s Episode II: True Blue. To butcher some Whitesnake lyrics, “here [we] go again on [our] own.” But, of course, we’re not alone. Far from it. Thanks to Orcutt, we’ve got some hellaciously good company for this particular tour de force down memory lane! *Orcutt, Chris, Bodaciously True & Totally Awesome, Episode II: True Blue, New York: Have Pen, Will Travel, 2026. If necessary, please read my review of Episode I: Bad Boy. Please also read my interview with the author. Orcutt also gives a mean video interview! And if you’re just tuning in, then please buy a copy of both books (Bad Boy is now available, outright, and True Blue is available for pre-order) and fully acquaint yourself with Chris Orcutt, the author some regard (rightly) as the American Tolstoy and whom I’ve previously called “the best American novelist alive today.” I’ve also proclaimed, based on reading Episode I: Bad Boy, that Orcutt has joined the ranks of the greats—Homer, Ovid, Chaucer, Shakespeare, Pushkin, Gogol, Murakami, et al. With True Blue, he does not disappoint. Your reviewer herein incorporates all points of the Bad Boy review as if each were restated in full. I will now specifically summarize a few of them, updated for True Blue. Bodaciously… still moves like a roller coaster, although this time, there is a lot of snow, so kindly remember a parka and boots. Avery, the sixteen-year-old protagonist and James Bond fan, now acts out his admiration for Ian Fleming’s star character in gripping fashion. Once again, Orcutt’s writing is flawless. Again, my six-by-nine paperback is a marvel of literary engineering. Yet again, a spiritual or philosophical theory presents itself throughout the pages; Avery, as Orcutt put it in our interview, “is groping for meaning spiritually, kind of trying on different spiritual or philosophical hats.” As Orcutt said, this process was not deliberately inserted into the text. As I said, it is something the reader will discover and process on his own. Orcutt says, correctly, that a story is a story, not an argument. Of course, this particular story, like the better ones, comes with good examples and keen reminders—notes to engage the reader’s spirit and intellect. Avery continues to be a stellar ladies’ man, and his relationships, proceeding at a dizzying pace, add multiple aspects of excitement to the reading experience. That experience is further heightened by Orcutt’s deft usage of various historical elements, added via living incorporation, that take True Blue into territory where most novels simply cannot go. The reference footnotes keep rolling, and Orcutt even has one FOR TOLKIEN! (A big deal for your reviewer.) The exploration of human psychology continues, led valiantly by Avery, the alpha. Through all the new twists and turns, the reader, regardless of age or generation, will continue to feel and recall the attendant emotions and notions of youth. Oh, and the quintessence of our glorious 1980s music also continues! Now, without giving too much of the story away, here is a modicum of detail. True Blue presents a series of little reminders about things that have practically vanished from American life. Remember popping the clutch to bypass a dead battery? You will! Well, those over forty or fifty will. Remember high school employment? Avery takes a few interesting jobs, which, in addition to earning him money, further the excellent action and romantic themes of the book. There is a subtle shift, or intensification, in the story, wherein Orcutt expands on the groundwork previously laid out in Bad Boy. The refined, non-dialectical social commentary continues. For instance, Avery’s life and times, his adventures, are set betwixt and between his high school tenure. There is a long, well-woven subplot concerning the highs and lows of American education, particularly how it interferes with life and learning without necessarily adding much substance. In chapter seventeen, around page 313, a capstone is raised, more poignant than anything from, say, Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, that highlights the dichotomy. At precisely the right time, Avery kindly states the obvious: “It was amazing how much of school was superfluous.” John Taylor Gatto would have approved. (Note: I’m keeping the citations slightly rough [e.g., “around page…”] just in case any minor formatting adjustment moves anything a page or so.) True Blue dives deeper into family dynamics, in general, and, especially, those concerning the late modern American period as typified by the 1980s. Several families are portrayed, each with its own flavor and characteristic. Without preaching or even trying to scene set, Orcutt exposes the good, the great, the not-so-good, and, frankly, the awful about how we live(d). Some of the material, all of it strikingly realistic and serious, feels a little dark and disturbing—and some of it is. Therein lies part of its literary beauty, as it accurately showcases the way we were, the way many of us have always been, and the way we still are today. There is no need to consult any edition of the APA’s DSM, but one will ponder why we, any of us, sometimes do the things we do, and how we tolerate our own ways and the ways of others. There is nothing in this thread to salvage, esoterically, per se, but Avery does use some of what he discovers as the impetus to right a few wrongs. (If one hasn’t read Bad Boy yet, just know that one will simply love Avery, a legitimate hero and endearing figure.) One of those rightings allows, in my opinion, the best action sequence in the epic so far. I won’t give any of it away. Rather, I ask the reader how far he’d be willing to go to restore the honor of a horribly wronged friend. Avery, one will discover, is willing and able to go into icy hell and back. Previously, Orcutt opined that one of his favorite scenes in Bad Boy was the D.C. hotel pool fight. I concur with him: that scene, a relatively short sequence, was detailed in the extreme and came to life better than most screen performances. The snowy scene I’m thinking about in True Blue is like that, but better, longer, and with far higher stakes. In real life, one of the interests we all share involves the advice we give and receive. Avery and company walk through a sea of advice, some good and some terrible. Generation X and subsequent generations have generally lacked good advice and role models. They’re there if one is lucky. Avery lucks out during a scene in chapter nineteen, around page 348, while he’s working one of his unusual jobs. The scene could have come right out of a Robert Ludlum thriller, by the way. After a brief discussion about the Craig household, one of Avery’s older “coworkers” remarks, “It’s terrible what they’ve done to your generation. … You have to figure out all this stuff by yourselves.” In answer, Avery observes, “We might have to fend for ourselves more, but we’ve also got a lot more freedom, so I figure it evens out.” Roundabout, there follows some of the best relationship advice I’ve seen in the whole compendium, fatherly words young men need to hear more often. One last scene I adored—find it during your reading(!)—saw Avery and a friend enjoying cigars one evening. Specifically, they smoked a few Macanudos. While it was not stated, the preponderance of the leaf suggests the exact models were probably Cafes, then and now ultra-popular smokes. When I read it, I, the man who usually doesn’t annotate fiction, jotted down a quick set of financial speculations: my guess is that back in 1986, the boys would have probably given, at most, two or three dollars for each cigar. Today, the going price is closer to ten to twelve dollars. (Many thanks to our beloved banksters and politi-critters and their mass financialization for the endless inflation!) This particular scene was personal for me because every once in a while, I get to enjoy a cigar or three with a very good friend from high school. Some years ago, he remarked that we should have smoked the occasional cigar while we were in school. It was by then, of course, far too late; however, I heartily agreed with him. So it was that I was very happy to relive the missed experience in fictional form. (To the “cigars are bad,” hand-wringing harpies: put it in your pipes and smoke it.) If it’s possible, I might like this episode 2% better than the initial installment. And as with Bad Boy, I don’t just recommend True Blue, I’m mandating it. Or, allow me to put it like this: on January 20, 1981, in his inaugural address to the nation, President Reagan said, “We have every right to dream heroic dreams. Those who say that we're in a time when there are not heroes, they just don't know where to look.” If you’re still in doubt as to where to find the living remnant of the American Dream, then all you have to do is look in Bodaciously True & Totally Awesome. This post was published at Perrin Lovett on April 1, 2026.
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