The Left Behind Complete Set, Series 1-12

by Tim LaHaye

Rayford was learning joy in the midst of sorrow. His heart told him Amanda was alive. His mind told him she was dead. As for her betrayal of him, of the Tribulation Force, and ultimately of God himself, neither Rayford’s head nor heart accepted that.

I see where this is going. Rayford won't believe that Amanda is a traitor until he finds her and sees that she doesn't have a forehead cross. Very dramatic.

Rayford knew Carpathia was mortal. Still, he wondered if the man ever slept. He saw Nicolae around the compound at all hours, always in suit and tie, shoes polished, face shaved, hair trimmed.

No, he's the g-man from Half Life

“No one could have predicted this random act of nature, the worst in history to strike the globe.

I mean, the dinosaurs and wooly mammoths might object. Or, if we're sticking to biblical literalism, all those folks in Noah's time...

Nicolae, in a small studio down the hall, played a virtual reality disk that took the viewer through the new city, gleaming as if already completed. It was dizzying and impressive. Carpathia pointed out every high-tech, state-of-the-art convenience known to man, each blended into the beautiful new metropolis.

"There's a great big beautiful tomorrow…"

His name is David Hassid. He’s a Jew from Eastern Europe who joined GC because he was impressed with Carpathia. He’s been surfing the Net for six months, and get this, he considers Tsion Ben-Judah his spiritual mentor.”

Once across the road, it was down into and up out of the other ditch, Ken jamming the brakes again to miss the fence. He began helping Buck move stuff out of the way, but when they started yanking shrubbery, he had to sit down. “Save your strength,” Buck said. “I can do this.”

I am soooooo bored from the pages of Buck trying to get Ritz onto this golf course. So much of these books is travel minutae, and there are a dozen steps to get anywhere. It's like a video game.

When Rayford and Mac finished in the Condor, Rayford said, “Let me leave first. You and I shouldn’t constantly be seen together. You need credibility with the brass.”

What, uhhh... were you two doing in the condor…?

Rayford thanked him and masked his disgust.

Carpathia stood. “Is it time for the gloves to come off, Captain Steele?

I doubt they will, but something has to happen eventually in these books.

“Do not be naive, Captain Steele,” Carpathia said. “All I want to know is that you will have the talk with Miss Durham.”

Well, it's never too late for sex ed

“Just so I’m clear, then, you will pay for the murder of the child?”

Oh lordy, here we go again

What if she chooses to bear the child?”

Rayford sounding like an old bishop

“Could she have been lost in the earthquake?” Carpathia said, his eyes brightening. “Wouldn’t that be the best solution?” Rayford suggested with disgust. “Actually, yes,”

Ironically, this exact discussion happened between Jenkins, LaHaye, and their editor while coming up for the plot of this book. /s

Rayford was amused. Carpathia had overestimated him. If Rayford had thought harboring Hattie and Tsion would give him the upper hand, he might have done it on purpose. But Hattie was on her own. And Tsion was Buck’s doing. Nonetheless, he left Carpathia’s office that night with a temporary advantage, according to the enemy himself.

Buck was sweaty and exhausted when he finally strapped himself in next to Ken Ritz.

“We really ought to walk that and see if it’s as solid as it looks,” Ken said. “But we don’t have time.”

Ken, my hero, saves us from more boredom

Ken Ritz trying was better than anyone else promising.

Did you steal this from Star Trek 4?

I have just put out onto a central bulletin board the result of several days of study and writing. Check it when you get a chance. I call it ‘The Coming Soul Harvest,’ and it concerns the 144,000 witnesses, their winning many millions to Christ, the visible seal, and what we can expect in the way of judgments over the next year or so.”

Ken, several inches taller than Buck, stood on tiptoes and peered into the distance.

I love that they felt the need to qualify Ken's additional comment, as though he's Legolas using elvish farsight

Ritz slapped his card on the counter. A young woman studied it. “We’re down to subcompacts. Will that be acceptable?” “What if I say no, honey?” he said. She made a face. “That’s all we have.” “Then what difference does it make whether it’s acceptable?”

Ken's feisty, and this woman is just trying to do her job while the apocalypse is happening

“That thing even have a backseat?” “Not really. There’s a little space behind the seats, though. You put your luggage there.” Ritz looked at Buck, and Buck knew what he was thinking. The two of them were going to get to know each other better than they cared to in that car. Adding a grown woman in fragile condition took more imagination than Buck possessed.

So many dirty jokes just begging to be used!

“Do you have a color preference?” the girl asked. “I get to choose?” Ritz said. “You’ve got only one model left, but it comes in different colors?” “Usually,” she said. “We’re down to just the red ones now.” “But I get to choose?” “If you choose red.”

Mess with the car rental girl, she'll mess with you back

Rayford Steele enjoyed a hunger for the Word of God from the day he had received Christ. He found, however, that as the world slowly began to get back to speed following the disappearances, he became busier than ever. It became increasingly difficult to spend the time he wanted to in the Bible. His first pastor, the late Bruce Barnes, had impressed upon the Tribulation Force how important it was that they “search the Scriptures daily.” Rayford tried to get himself in that groove, but for weeks he was frustrated. He tried getting up earlier but found himself involved in so many late night discussions and activities that it wasn’t practical. He tried reading his Bible during breaks on his flights, but that caused tension between him and his various copilots and first officers. Finally he hit upon a solution. No matter where he was in the world, regardless of what he had done during the day or evening, sometime he would be going to bed. Regardless of the location or situation, before he turned out the light, he would get his daily Bible study in. Bruce had at first been skeptical, urging him to give God the first few minutes of the day rather than the last. “You have to get up in the morning too,” Bruce had said. “Wouldn’t you rather give God your freshest and most energetic moments?” Rayford saw the wisdom of that, but when it didn’t seem to work, he went back to his own plan. Yes, he had at times fallen asleep while reading or praying, but usually he was able to stay alert,...

Just want to point out how much this aside pops up out of nowhere. It feels like this was a thing one of the authors was dealing with at the time, or remembered they had strong thoughts on, so they just plopped in a diatribe where they were currently writing.

“Like the young Americans say, that is so cool.”

“Yes, but he believes he is one of the 144,000 as well. He’s teaching that we are sealed, at least for a time, and that the forces of evil cannot come against us.” “Really?” “Yes. That protection is not for everyone who has the mark, apparently. But it is for the converted Jewish evangelists.”

Again, tying yourself to these prophecies really guts the opportunity for tension

It wasn’t long before I discovered the truth on the Internet.

This may be the most unbelievable line so far

Member when you got me my medicine?” Ken’s words were slurred. “I popped ’em in my mouth without water, right?” “I offered to get you something to drink.” “That’s not the point. I was s’posed to take one from one bottle and three from the other, every four hours. I missed my last dose, so I took two of one and six of the other.”

Ken, if you OD and die this early in the series, I might quit

Ken looked and sounded like the deliriously injured man that he was.

I'm numb to these sentences now. But not as numb as Ken

Buck stepped out of line and hurried into a public washroom. He washed his face, watered down and slicked back his hair, and made sure his clothes were as neat as possible. He pulled his identification card from his pocket and clipped it to his shirt, turning it around so his picture and name were hidden. He popped the remaining lens out of his broken sunglasses, but the frames looked so phony that he pulled them up into his hair. He looked in the mirror and affected a grim expression, telling himself, “You are a doctor. A no-nonsense, big ego, all-action doctor.”

I hope we're getting a Star Trek 4 hospital rescue sequence, since we're already taking cues from that movie

He clenched his teeth and shuddered, willing himself to calm down. He didn’t want to be heard. After about a minute, he opened the chart again. Staring at him from the photographs was the almost unrecognizable face of his young wife. Had she looked that swollen when she was brought to Kenosha, no doctor would have recognized her from Buck’s picture.

I don't feel good about women being victims of traumatic injury in this series

Her normally smooth, pale skin was now blotched red and yellow and invaded by pitch, tar, and bits of shingling. Worse, her right foot looked as if someone had tried to fold it. A bone protruded from her shin. Bruising began on the outside of her knee and ran to the kneecap, which looked severely damaged. From the position of her body, it appeared her right hip had been knocked out of joint. Bruises and bumps in her midsection evidenced broken ribs. Her elbow had been laid open, and her right shoulder appeared dislocated. Her right collarbone pressed against the skin. The right side of her face appeared flatter, and there was damage to her jaw, teeth, cheekbone, and eye. Her face was so misshapen that Buck could hardly bear to look. The eye was swollen huge and shut. The only abrasion on her left side was a raspberry near her hip, so the doctor had probably correctly deduced that she had been knocked off her feet by a blow to her right side. Buck determined he would not recoil when he saw her in person.

Why does this series hate Chloe so much? This description is so detailed, relishing in just how battered Chloe's body is.

Of course, he wanted her to survive. But was that best for her?

Buck scanned the rest quickly, looking for a key word. There it was. Fetal heartbeat detected. Oh, God! Save them both!

Buck didn’t know medicine, but her vital signs looked good for someone who had suffered such a trauma.

Rayford had not been prepared for what he found on the Internet.

None of us ever are

“The Coming Soul Harvest” was a fascinating study of biblical prophecy.

Buckle in for another round of LaHaye self-tooting his horn

Tsion made himself so understandable and personable that it did not surprise Rayford that thousands considered themselves his protégés, though they had never met him.

Tsion responded to the requests by telling his own story,

Skip the next two paragraphs of recap

Rayford felt a tingle behind his knees that shot to his head.

What??? Rayford, I think your knees have taken some permanent nerve damage.

There are seven years, or eighty-four months, in all. So, my dear friends, you can see that we are now one quarter of the way through. Unfortunately, as bad as things have been, they get progressively worse as we race headlong toward the end, the glorious appearing of Christ.

According to my edition, we're a third of the way to the end

That same chapter goes on to say that seven angels with seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. That is where we are now. Sometime over the next twenty-one months, the first angel will sound, and hail and fire will follow, mingled with blood, thrown down to the earth. This will burn a third of the trees and all the green grass.

Let me remind you with a few choice passages of Scripture that the outcome has already been determined. We win!

So, where's the tension in this story coming from?! If our main characters already know the ending, you, the writer, have to introduce some uncertainty to make your story interesting. It can be a very personal conflict, like doubt, but the stakes of failure need to be clear, or else the reader won't care.

Buck reminded himself that, for the moment, he was not just a doctor, but also an egomaniac.

Draperies hid both patients. Buck pulled back the first to reveal his wife. He held his breath as his eyes traveled over the sheet from feet to neck. It felt as if his heart was literally breaking. Poor sweet Chloe had no idea what she was getting into when she agreed to marry him. He bit his lip hard. There was no time to emote. He was grateful she seemed to be sleeping peacefully. Her right arm was in a cast from wrist to shoulder. Her left arm lay motionless at her side, an IV needle in the back of her hand.

Chloe returns

He forced himself not to look at her shattered right side. She was his sweet, innocent wife on one side and a monster on the other.

I hate Buck so much

“She’s out of danger for the moment,” he said, “but we’ve got a problem. Who told you Miss Ashton was in bed B?” “Excuse me, doctor,” the woman guard said, “but we have nothing to do with the patients. Our responsibility is the door.” “So, you’re not responsible for this screwup?” “Absolutely not,” the woman said. Buck pulled the adhesive strips from the door and reversed them.

Buck, that might literally kill the other woman if she gets the wrong treatment

Buck slipped back into Chloe’s room, desperate to let her know he was there and she was safe. He could hardly bear to look at her black and purple face with the eye so swollen.

Her hand felt like a feather, and she seemed fragile as a newborn. What a contrast to the strong woman he had loved and come to know. She was not only fearless, but she was also smart. How he wished she was up to being his ally in this.

“I don’t know what you’re saying, sweetness, and I’m not sure you do either.

Buck can't be reunited with Chloe for more than a minute before telling her that she doesn't know what she's talking about

He yanked hers apart, careful not to dislodge the IV. He slipped behind A. Ashton’s curtain. She still appeared sound asleep. He carefully removed her bracelet, noticing she did not appear even to be breathing. He put his ear close to her nose but heard and felt nothing. He could find no pulse. He switched the wristbands.

Oh, nice of you to check only after you decide to switch medical info. And how convenient Buck doesn't have any ethical consequences.