Amazon posts reader reviews and they are no better or worse than professionally written ones. But one nutty, idiotic, bean brain, reviewed a mystery by saying “ I just could not believe this sweet, trembly, little tiny, old man, would murder his 6ft.3 in. loud mouthed wife by Duck taping her mouth shut an dragging her into a bakery that specialized in chocolate goodies and welding her handcuffs to a pipe. The cause of death was, drowned in drool.” The early clue that most authors who write mysteries manage to drop into the story, was that the tiny man was a retired weight lifter in a circus. Why on earth bother to read a book when you’ve been told “ who done it?!”
Note: the above example was not a direct quote because
As a young woman, book covers were, I suppose, a hook to catch readers. They had the opposite effect on me because I hated for anyone to know I read such trash. I am dead certain my dad would have had a spasm --- as would the book as it sailed into the garbage. Apparently, there were no flat-chested young ladies who lived during the years of historical romances. Wonder if it was something they ate? Whatever, they sure gave me an inferiority complex! The dresses had a lot in their favor though, one could have a bottom as big as a steamship and it wouldn’t be noticed under all those petticoats and hoops. And, oh, those swashbuckling, handsome young men who were strong enough to carry a damsel onto a ship while killing a dozen or so one eyed pirates! Obviously, a man with two good eyes could not be a pirate so should cover one with a black patch and look dirty and wear gold jewelry. Even now, I often see their grandsons hanging around the mall with their pants falling off. Makes me want to yell, FIRE, and see if they can run fast while grabbing their pants.
Some years ago, a dear friend wrote a novel, well researched as to its time period, but treated as fiction. When I asked another friend his opinion of the book, he said it was not as bad as he’d feared. How tacky! This man barely made it through high school and the book author had taught literature at UGA. The book was very readable but did not sell well because the writer refused to add lots more sex so the publisher didn’t really push it.
When I was in public school, every English teacher demanded a book report, sometimes several. Every time I got a new teacher, I wrote my first report about the book Gone With The Wind. I read all the time but I could write this one in class with no notes. I could do it now except for the exact number of pages and the publisher. It is one of those books I read again from time to time. I mentioned some others in a blog a while back.
For some reason, I am reminded of that old story about the lawyer, in court, telling the witness, “ I am going to ask you some questions and every answer must be oral. Now where were you last Monday at six o’clock?” Witness, brightly, ”Oral!”
Have you noticed that many well known authors are writing with a lesser known writer? Why do I think that the 2nd writer is doing most of the scut work? James Patterson even shares his writing with several others. I think it is funny that at the end, Patterson has a photo and a nice paragraph about him. Writer #2 has maybe two sentences.
Books are a Godsend for me, now, with my ailments but truly, they always have been. They are affordable or free, at the Library, and are portable. One can find large print or books on tape. There really is no excuse for being bored or lonely. I met some of my best friends at book groups, in