If you still need to squeeze in one more “summer read” before bravely facing the fall avalanche of what-didn’t-get-done-this-summer, I’d recommend this page-turner:
No Spoiler Alert! I won’t reveal the story, the plot, or the twists and turns—but suffice it to say, I dropped everything on my sacred To-Do list and read the final 100 pages of this fast-moving story in one sitting. Here’s what I loved about Trey Gowdy’s first novel:
• Poignant scenes
• Memorable characters and descriptions
• Pathos, yet hope amidst heartbreak
• Short chapters
I appreciate Trey Gowdy’s balanced opinion show on
Sunday night TV, so it was fascinating to read his take on a murder investigation in a small town in South Carolina.
Gowdy’s bio is stunning: former state and federal prosecutor, eight years in Congress (2011-2019), and chair of two committees.
In
The Color of Death, the first-person voice of the Assistant DA, Colm Truesdale, provides the color commentary—and what he says (versus what he would
like to say) is both vivid and entertaining.
• He tells his colleague, “Bones,” who drinks only skim milk,
“You should order the fat bomb special. You’re so skinny I could save you from drowning by tossing you a fruit loop.” • Noticing the kindness of a waitress helping another customer, Colm leaves her a hundred dollar tip.
• Describing the town’s budget meetings: “They are, after all, the opposite of Christmas—people meet and take your presents. They don’t exchange them.”
The Color of Death delivers page after page: • On mentoring a rookie detective: “We have reached a critical juncture in this nascent relationship. He’s either going to see his mistake or justify it. He’s either a learner or an excuse maker.”
• “Robitis” is defined.
“It’s what happens when some lawyers get promoted to judge and put on a robe. A few become humbler and more introspective with the gravity of their ascension to the bench. Others, however, confuse themselves with God.” • The judge’s “not-so-subtle power play.” The guest chairs in the judge’s chambers are intentionally lower than the judge’s chair!
(Note: I know of a pastor who went a step lower. His guest chairs were from the children’s department. Honest!) • “He stayed up too late again last night thinking about this case. The line between thinking and obsessing was getting blurry.”
SADNESS, BUT HOPE. Oh, my. Murders or suicides? You be the judge. While fiction, it feels like real life. Like local news in L.A. or even your city or town. Crummy characters battling broken people—some competent, but all broken. After I read the last page, the sad story hung with me. The next day, I found solace listening to Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway sign this hymn, “
Come Ye Disconsolate.”
Listen, especially, to the lyrics of “Come Yet Disconsolate,” sung by Roberta Flack and Donny Hathaway. “Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal.” (Listen here.) MEMORABLE ONE-LINERS: • “The currency of government work is office space, and right now I am broke, having been kicked out of my old office and banished to the basement.”
• The defense attorney: “The guy in the suit slings out business cards like a dealer in Vegas.”
• The Assistant DA’s boss needs assurances: “Please tell me the case is a slam dunk. Video. Confession. Nuns as eyewitnesses. Please?”
• At the small town diner where people claimed “their booth”—like they claimed a pew at church as “their pew”—Colm philosophizes,
“Nothing like a diner menu to recalibrate life.”QUESTIONS I’D LIKE TO ASK THE AUTHOR: • You mention multiple times that when interviewing suspects, you’re sitting at a steel table (or metal table) “bolted to the wall.”
(I have a hunch, but why mention that so many times?) • The Assistant DA says to himself, “I’m careful not to cross my arms and instead lean in. It’s a technique to make people more at ease.” (So how much of being an effective prosecutor is technique versus the “
10,000 hours” principle?)
• You write in your bestselling book on persuasion,
Doesn’t Hurt to Ask (my
2020 book-of-the-year), that
young litigators “needed two things: confidence and practice.” Now, after writing your first novel, do you still stand by this view? Or, are there now three or four things that rookie prosecutors must master?
OK. That’s my review. No spoiler alert—just my recommendation to read this page-turner. (And yes, along the way, if you look for it—you’ll find at least 10 leadership and management lessons to share around the water cooler or at staff meetings.)
TO ORDER FROM AMAZON, click on the title for
The Color of Death: A Novel, by Trey Gowdy and Christopher Greyson. Listen on
Libro (8 hours, 37 minutes). And thanks to the publisher for sending me a review copy.

Little Bets surprised me. I expected cute little success stories like, “Well…I just flipped the spaghetti onto the wall—and it stuck!” Instead, the innovators of little experiments were actually productive, creative teams of “rigorous, highly analytical, strategic and pragmatic” people. There are no step-by-step formulas.
•
Read my review (Issue No. 217, May 15, 2011).
• Order from
Amazon.
• Listen on
Libro (5 hours, 3 min.).
• Management Bucket #6 of 20:
The Program BucketCaution! The book’s approach is a 180-degree plunge from what the profs taught us. The author quotes Sir Ken Robinson, “We are educating people out of their creativity.” Plus, most management approaches are all about reducing errors and risk—not giving license to having a good whack at a half-baked idea.
(Goodness, this is God’s money we’re wasting!)
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