Dylan and Maggie Stiles have a marriage that seems nearly
symbiotic; when she taps him on the shoulder for a midnight swim
(and some connubial bliss), they conceive a son. The couple, living
on the Stiles farm, couldn't be happier. Nothing is missing.

Or so they might think (although, as the novel makes clear, Maggie
knows better all along). But when tragedy strikes (their baby boy
is stillborn and Maggie lapses into a postnatal coma), Dylan finds
himself alone in a desert. At first he is unwilling to accept the
kindness of strangers, but soon he finds that kindness ---- from
strangers and friends alike --- is all he has for the moment.

Slowly Dylan begins to fashion a post-childbirth life: his friend
Amos, the town sheriff, convinces him to take a proffered job at
the local community college teaching English 101. (Amos is
African-American and Dylan is Caucasian; they've evidently been
known as "Ebony and Ivory" for decades). Dylan, the taste of his
doctoral training still sour in his mouth, balks at leaving his
comfortable farming existence, but Amos shows him that it was
Maggie herself who knew that Dylan needed more than plowing,
tilling and harvesting in his life.

Characters as specifically drawn as Maggie (with her firm
devotion), Amos and the utterly singular Bryce Kai MacGregor make
this soft-spoken debut novel a must-read. MacGregor is a
bagpipe-wielding, beer-swilling, trailer-inhabiting layabout with a
heart bigger than his enormous trust fund. And the bookended
characters of Amanda and Koy, both Dylan's students and both faced
with similar burdens, offer a perspective on single motherhood not
often found in Christian literature, yet at the same time not in
conflict with the aims of that literature. Meanwhile, Dylan finds
that teaching again both sparks his interest and kindles problems,
since his students' reasons for taking composition are as varied as
their ethnic backgrounds.

In the slow weeks that follow Maggie's confinement, Dylan finds
that, like his diverse classroom, people have different ways of
showing him hope: Amos takes him fishing, while Amanda invites him
to her church. In a run-of-the-mill Christian novel, that
invitation might be the dénouement of the book --- but
Martin's own literary training (he has a Ph.D. from Regents
University) serves him well. He presents Dylan's acceptance of
Jesus Christ as one step in his spiritual pilgrimage --- the most
important step, but not the only step, not the final step.

Thus, the actual dénouement does not seem as pat as it might
in the hands of a lesser writer. Although it takes a second tragedy
to open Dylan's eyes and heart to grace, these events happen
fluidly, not awkwardly. One can easily imagine reading more about
Dylan Stiles, and yet the best thing about THE DEAD DON'T DANCE is
that you don't need to read more about Dylan Stiles. His story and
Maggie's has been told, and told well. In subsequent novels, Martin
will no doubt find that his talent for creating vivid characters
means that he can allow them, rather than dramatic events, to bring
meaning to his words.