For me it would be Hannibal by Thomas Harris. He took one of the best antagonists in history and tried to make him a hero. Harris Dexterized Lechter by having him do his gruesome work on only bad people. For me Hannibal Lechter doesn't work as a sympathetic character, he is, and should remain, the embodiment of sociopathy.
“Fools” said I, “You do not knowSilence like a cancer growsHear my words that I might teach youTake my arms that I might reach you”But my words like silent raindrops fellAnd echoed in the wells of silence : Simon & Garfunkel
Those who enjoy stirring the chamber-pot should be required to lick the spoon.
Our job as writers is to make readers dream, to infiltrate their minds with our words and create a new reality; a reality not theirs, and not ours, but a new, unique combination of both.
Visit Amazon and the Kindle Store to check out Reflections in a Black Mirror, and Chase
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Sea Of Cortez...pains me to say it...i think my expectations were to high after Travels with Charley...don't get me wrong it's worth a read for sure...but since his friend Ed Rickets
was the inspiration for Doc..who was for me Steinbeck's best character...
The only one who can heal you is you.
Under the Dome by Stephen King. Such a long read that lead up to a horribly unsatisfying ending.
“On the chest of a barmaid in Sale, were tattooed all the prices of ale. And on her behind, for the sake of the blind, was the same only written in braille"
"Ambiguity is one of the greatest faults in a craft. It comes from vague ambitions. One may inspired by good ambitions, but the immediate concern of the craftsman is to know what he is capable of doing at present; and to do it."
- Edward Johnston
1Q84 by Murakami
Lies, Inc. by Philip K. Dick.
The first, and to date only, PKD novel that utterly disappointed me. It should have stayed as the short story The Unteleported Man.
The Bear and the Dragon by Tom Clancy.
After the incredible Executive Orders and Rainbow Six, this is where it all really started going downhill for Clancy.
The Phantom of Manhattan by Frederick Forsyth.
It should have been written under a pseudonym. This is not Forsyth's finest hour.
The Evil That Men Do by John Brunner.
After reading Stand on Zanzibar, anything would be a let-down.
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"One morning I shot an elephant in my pyjamas. How he got into my pyjamas I'll never know." ~ Groucho Marx.
"It is better to be feared than loved, if one cannot be both". ~ Niccolo Machiavelli, The Prince.
"A wise man can learn more from a foolish question than a fool can learn from a wise answer". ~ Bruce Lee.
"In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert's mind there are few". ~ Shunryu Suzuki.
"Give a man a mask and he will show you his true face". ~ Oscar Wilde.
"He who learns but does not think is lost; he who thinks but does not learn is in great danger". ~ Confucius.
I won't say I 'love' James Patterson, but he wrote some pretty good thrillers back in the day. The books he's currently publishing under his name, but which are actually written by other authors, are universally wretched.
I love the Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich. I read the first book in the new Wicked Series. The characters were implausible, the plot was implausible, the magical powers seemed random, and the book had few if any redeeming qualities. A waste of time and money and a disappointment.
English is a good language for people who like to be creative and expressive, not for people who want words to fit into boxes and stay there.
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I'm a big Roald Dahl fan but I didn't like The Witches. I don't know what he was thinking with that ending, it's got horrible implications and it's supposed to come off as happy.
Haven't read that one, but I thought Esio Trot was absolutely horrid, especially given that it is for kids.Originally Posted by KateMarie999
Patrick Rothfuss has a rather entertaining review of it on Goodreads.
"The only calibration that counts is how much heart people invest, how much they ignore their fears of being hurt or caught out or humiliated. And the only thing people regret is that they didn't live boldly enough, that they didn't invest enough heart, didn't love enough. Nothing else really counts at all. It was a saying about noble figures in old Irish poems—he would give his hawk to any man that asked for it, yet he loved his hawk better than men nowadays love their bride of tomorrow. He would mourn a dog with more grief than men nowadays mourn their fathers.
And that's how we measure out our real respect for people—by the degree of feeling they can register, the voltage of life they can carry and tolerate—and enjoy."
Live like a mighty river: a letter from Ted Hughes to his son, Nicholas
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Rant by Chuck Palahniuk. I just couldn't get into the style he wrote that in. I love Chuck Palahniuk, though.
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