Tanya Contois's Blog, page 23

Review of To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee (Literary classic)


Published in 1960, To Kill a Mockingbird celebrated its 50thbirthday in 2010. This year my son began reading the classic for his freshmanclass, advanced English. Having no distinct memory of reading this book inschool, I thought it was the perfect opportunity for me.


The story takes place in the 1930s in the Deep South, toldthrough the eyes of young Scout and her older brother Jem. They're being raisedwithout a mother and by their attorney father who has the incredible task ofdefending a black man accused of raping a white girl.


Scout is smart, spunky, loving and extremely insightful fora young child. She asks all the right questions and leaves the other charactersthinking about their own judgments and actions. Atticus has got to be one ofthe greatest literary fathers of all time. Some people from outside the family,and even Atticus's own sister, might have thought he was too easy or didn'traise his kids right, by his laid back demeanor and the kids' adventurousescapades. But there is something about Atticus, what he says and just how hesays it, that gets through to his children and makes them see the world the wayit should be. And, he's his kids' hero.


If you've never read To Kill a Mockingbird or haven't inyears, I highly recommend it as it is still truly entertaining and providesmany messages that are still valid today. After reading the book, now I'm justdying to see the movie.


Barnes and Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/to-kill-a-mockingbird-harper-lee/1100151011?ean=9780446310789&itm=2&usri=to+kill+a+mockingbird


Amazon http://www.amazon.com/To-Kill-Mockingbird-Anniversary-Edition/dp/0061743526/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1332364243&sr=1-1


Lia Fairchild is awriter and the author of the novel, In Search of Lucy, and the mysteryseries, A Hint of Murder. Look for more on her at http://www.liafairchild.com/  or http://www.ahintofmurder.blogspot.com

Kristal McKerrington Returns To Live Interviews!

Hello All Things Books Readers, 


I will be appearing on the wonderful,  new show of Big J Watts for an interview.  Its not any 1 hour long interview, oh no. It's an no holds barrage of questions ranging from my Erotica work straight through to my latest Wrestling Romance project. 


This is the show of all shows that I have ever been on and its been a wonderful experience that I'm looking forward to having.  Since I will be announcing a HUGE move for me that will knock your socks off.  


The news is totally EXCLUSIVE too the show so that means you have to stop by to get to hear it. We will also have a SUPER EXCLUSIVE prize too.


So make sure that you mark down Saturday 24th of March (yes this Saturday) in your calendar.  It's starts at 7pm USA  Central time.  Make sure that you check it out cause its going to be an awesome show, with a Wrestler also wadding into the hot topic of Wrestling Romance. 


A topic that has been discussed on Wrestle View and by other Wrestling Reporters. A topic that is dividing them  right down the middle. There is also alot of talk going on between the Wrestlers that have read the series.  


What will happen on the show?


That is anyone's guess. To learn more, make sure that you tune in with a chance to WIN with the best question of the night and with your chance to see Kristal McKerrington, live in action. 


Thank you for having me here this week and I will see you all back here next week. 


Kristal McKerrington

Review of Devious by Lisa Jackson

Publication Date: February 28, 2012 | Series: Rick Bentz/Reuben Montoya
The crime scene at St. Marguerite's cathedral in New Orleans is shocking, even to seasoned detectives like Rick Bentz and Reuben Montoya. A novice nun named Sister Camille has been found dressed in a yellowed bridal gown and viciously garroted, her body covered with an altar cloth. Valerie Houston is devastated by her sister's death. For weeks, she'd begged Camille to leave St. Marguerite's, where she seemed determined to live as some kind of martyr. But Camille had a knack for making bad choices — she joined the convent in part because she'd fallen for Val's soon-to-be ex-husband, Slade. Convinced the police aren't doing enough, Val begins to investigate. Slade, on a mission to repair their marriage, is determined to help her. But the deeper Val's inquiries go, the more twisted the case becomes. St. Marguerite's is far from the tranquil retreat many believe, and everyone, from handsome Father Frank O'Toole to the mysterious Mother Superior, has their own agenda. Despite their closeness, even Camille had a hidden life Val never suspected. But someone knew about Camille's past — and Val's, too. Now she has no choice but to catch a devious, depraved killer intent on purging St. Marguerite's of all its sins — before she becomes the next victim…
Review

The title is so fitting for everything that happens throughout Devious. I'm usually good at figuring out who the bad guy is but this book was impossible to figure out because there was so much going on. The cast of characters played off one another. I was shocked at who ended up being the killer. Devious kept me constantly guessing and it had everything which made it a pulse-pounding thrill ride.

http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1420102753/ref=cm_cr_mts_prod_img

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/devious-lisa-jackson/1022856150?ean=9781420102758&itm=1&usri=devious+lisa+jackson

Review of Torn by Erica O'Rourke

TORN by Erica O'RourkePublication Date: June 28, 2011
Genre: YA Fantasy

Everyone has secrets.

Even best friends.

Swirling black descends like ravens, large enough to block the glow of the streetlights. A dull roar starts like a train on the 'L', a far-away rumbling that grows louder as it pulls closer, until it's directly overhead and you feel it in your chest, except this doesn't pass you by. Verity, white-faced and eyes blazing, shouts through the din, "Run, Mo!"





REVIEW
I can't even begin to express how much I loved this book. It has everything that makes a great book - suspense, romance, and tons of twists and turns that'll have even the most finicky reader hooked. I adored the main character Mo because she was so quirky which is what made her likable and real. I was disappointed when the book was over and I am eager to read the next book in by this series.

Buy Links

http://www.amazon.com/Torn-Erica-ORourke/dp/0758267037/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1332167858&sr=1-1

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/torn-erica-orourke/1102167884

Promo post and giveaway of The Fallen One by Lenore Wolfe

Title: The Fallen OneSeries: Sons of the Dark Mother, #1Author: Lenore WolfeGenre: Paranormal, FantasyPublisher: Triquetra Press PublicationsEbookWords: A little over 100,000 Book Description An ancient race and a prophecy foretell of four dark princes, the sons of the dark mother, who will rise up with a nation of old vamps to stop the rogue factions from ruling over mankind. Justice is the first in that prophecy, from the ancient Jaguar People. He is the Prince of Fire. Jess is one of the three sisters of the Jaguar witches who must help him to stop these factions of rogue vamps--or none of their lives will ever be the same. Buy links: Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Fallen-Sons-Dark-Mother-ebook/dp/B0073YAS8A/ref=ntt_at_ep_dpi_3
Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-fallen-one-lenore-wolfe/1108526911?ean=2940014091640&itm=3&usri=lenore+wolfeExcerpt:

Prologue

Chicago, Illinois, fifteen years before….
The children moved down the back-street alley, just as they had every day before, on their way to school. The crisp air bit at their noses. The gravel crunched beneath their feet, mixed with clean, white snow that, on any other day, would have had them playing and laughing with glee, leaving a trail of footprints behind them. Today was just an ordinary day, a day like any other day, a day that should have been light and happy, like any bright, sunny morning, on any clear, cold day.
But the children were not laughing. Even to a child, something about this day didn't feel right.
Their older brother always walked them to school, then took himself off to class. The three girls glanced up at him now, almost in unison, beneath the dark, curly lashes of their matching yellow-green-gold eyes. The charge in the air was almost palpable for children as sensitive as these children. Something in the air simply wasn't right.
Something didn't bode well—for any of them.
Their brother's name was Justice. And perhaps it was fortuitous that his parents had named him so, for nothing would prove this better than on this day, at this hour. He was about to live up to his name, and he always struggle with this responsibility, as well as the monster inside of him. But that couldn't be helped—any more than what was about to happen.
Justice was just fourteen years old, and was a stout, muscular youth. His skin was darkly tanned by the sun. And he was his three little sisters' knight in shining armor. He would do anything for them—and they knew it. His heart was big—much too big for the burden of what was about to happen, and that burden would weigh upon him for much of his life. He was also a gentle boy—except when gang members threatened his sisters.
Then he was anything but gentle.
The gang had a thing for him because of this. They had never quite been able to settle the score. And each time—the score grew bigger.
One of the gang members stepped out in front of them now, before they had even reached the end of the alley. Justice knew they had been waiting for him. This wasn't the first time they'd laid a trap for him. Yet somehow, Justice knew, this time it would be the last.
He had beaten their asses last time—even with the odds at one against five. Anyone else probably would have decided to leave him alone after that. But somehow Justice had known that this vendetta they had for him had only intensified, and he had known they'd be back for more.
He yelled at his sisters to run, the way he had every other time, and run they did. And like every other time, it didn't occur to any of them that their brother wouldn't come out of this okay. After all, he always did; he was their hero.
They couldn't know what these beatings did to him. Nor could they know what today would cost him, or what he would suffer—all for what was about to happen.
The gang was fed up with getting their asses beaten down. They were fed up, and they wanted revenge. They hadn't taken any chances, and this time they'd brought some equalizers. Yes, Justice had a big heart when it came to his sisters—but this was war. And he was at home with war. He felt as if he'd fought in wars for lifetime after lifetime, as if he'd been going to war forever. He felt old, even though he was only fourteen.
His shoulders dropped upon eyeing the number of gang members they had brought this time. They weren't interested in honor. They weren't interested in making this a fair fight. It had occurred to him, more than once, to wonder why they didn't just get it over with—and shoot him….
They had, however, never brought guns to these fights. The fact that they hadn't was the only sign of honor they'd ever shown. Perhaps they had seen him as a worthy opponent, in some twisted way. Other than that, they'd shown no mercy.
And neither did he.
Justice fought without a shred of mercy. He was as strong as an ox, even at his young age, and the last time they had fought, he'd given these boys a beating that had laid them up for the past few weeks.
But they were ready for him this time, and the gang was sure that they were finally going to even the score.
One of them hit Justice with a heavy pipe: the sound of it hitting his flesh was a sickening thud in the cool morning air.
He beat that kid's face with his beefy fists, while the others fell upon him.
They hit him with chains, boards, and even a brick, while he unflinchingly kept pounding on the gang leader. He was going down, he could feel it, but he wasn't going to go down alone—and he refused to waver.
However, he did worry. What would his sisters do now, with no one to protect them?
He was screaming inside; he was beyond rage. His family had fallen apart. Their parents had failed them and he had done everything he could for two years now to make up for the lack, to protect them, but now even he had failed them.
He bellowed like a wild animal, screaming his rage at the sky. His entire world was gone, and now theirs would be too. For without him, they wouldn't last long.
This gang hated him too much to let this end with him.
He screamed, bloody and beaten: screamed his frustration—screamed his rage. He had failed them. His chest burned, his body burned: he was on fire. He'd never felt anything so painful. The gang members just kept beating him down. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move anymore. He knew he was dying.
He wasn't prepared for what happened next. He was a sensitive: he knew things, sensed things the rest of the world didn't believe existed. But even he wasn't prepared for the change that suddenly came over his body. He stared at the claws that had unexpectedly ripped out of the end of his arm. For a moment he could only stare. The members of the gang stared too, and first, and then, when he rolled easily to his feet, they backed warily away from him. He let out an eerie cry: the cry of a jungle cat. The gang backed farther away, glancing down the alley, clearly trying to gauge their chances for escape while shock turned their faces to chalk.
Menace filled his veins. He felt no pain now—and neither did he feel mercy. Nothing could stop him; and he didn't stop, not even when they screamed, not even when their blood sprayed across the clean, white snow like art gone crazily awry. Everyone who witnessed the aftermath was left with a horrifying sense of nausea once they realized what must have taken place here this day.
He didn't stop, not even when their blood filled his senses. He didn't stop until they all lay in shreds—and when he finally did, he could only stare at what he had done.
He stared down at his now-human form, unable to absorb what had happened, what he had turned into, what he had done. He bent over double, bile filling his senses, along with the smell of their blood.
He had killed them.
He had killed them all. He couldn't grasp the enormity of it. Nothing made sense; his head whirled and his heart pounded. He couldn't absorb what he had become. Nothing could have prepared him for this, for what he'd changed into.
It started to rain, as though the Goddess knew exactly what he would need here, now, on this day: this day that would mar every other day of his life for years to come. The rain felt warm and melted the snow even as it washed away the blood. He stared up into the sky, amazed at how the cold, crisp morning had suddenly turned warm enough to allow the rain, even more so than he'd been by the beast that had ripped its way out of his body. He stared, letting the rain drench his skin, washing him clean.
He stared at the lifeless bodies of his enemies, watching their blood run down the alley in rivulets, and it finally occurred to him—with the sense of self-preservation finally pulsing through his brain—that he should get out of here before someone saw him.
He looked wildly around, expecting to see horrified faces staring at the monster he'd become: but no one was there—no one had seen what he had become. No one had witnessed his murderous acts: well, at least, no one who had stuck around afterward.
He straightened up and stumbled back down the alley like a drunk. He bent and ran, watching behind him, expecting at any moment for someone to chase him, for someone to scream, "There he is, the murdering monster, there he is, let's get him…."
But they never came. No one ever came for him.
He'd just made it to the end of the alley when he saw her small face peeking out, staring in horror at her gentle, loving brother, her yellow-green-gold eyes wide with shock and terror, and he knew that she had brought the rain.
She controlled the weather, and whenever she was really upset, storms were sure to follow.
She was his youngest sister, and he had no idea how it was she had escaped from her other sisters, but there she was, hiding behind some cardboard boxes, staring at him in horror, with her small body shaking—but whether that was from what she had just witnessed or from the fact she was drenched, wet, and cold he couldn't tell.
She looked at him as if he was the monster he now knew himself to be. And when he stepped toward her, she started screaming, her screams shaking him worse than anything else that had happened there that day. And then she ran.
He somehow made it home, although he wouldn't remember how he had managed it for many months, nor would he remember how the people he had stumbled past had stared at him in horror and fear, often quickly crossing to other side of the street. He found his way into the bathroom, where he stared horrified at his own reflection in the mirror and touched his face. It felt surreal; he felt surreal. He felt numb, carefully touching his face while staring at—and watching himself—in stupefied horror. How could he possibly look the same? He'd become a monster. How could he look the same—ever again?
He tried to clean the blood off of himself using the buckets of water they had hauled from a friend's house, since their water and electricity were now shut off. He tried to clean and examine his wounds. He peered through bleary eyes at his head. As near as he could tell, his head was split in five separate places.
He needed to go to a hospital. But how? How could he take himself to the hospital? Wouldn't they connect the brutal slayings in the alley to him, because of the beating he had taken? He stared at the splits in his scalp. He didn't have a choice. These would never heal by themselves. He stared at the gashes on his arms and on his chest. Blood covered him everywhere. Finally, with despair, he began to walk the six city blocks to the hospital. People stared at him, as they had before, giving him a wide berth.
By the time he stumbled into the emergency room, he'd lost too much blood. He spent the next three days in a hospital bed, and received more than eight hundred stitches. They sewed up the gashes in his arms, the knife wounds to his chest and ribs, and the gashes in his head. They told him he was incredibly lucky to have survived whatever had killed those gang members. They said it looked like an attack by a wild animal, and whatever beast it had been had cut those young men to shreds. They couldn't imagine what kind of wild creature would have come this far into a large city, or how it had avoided detection. But it had, for sure, been a large, wild animal.
The police questioned him. The doctors questioned him. The news questioned him. And then it seemed as though all the wildlife, fish, and game experts in the US had come to question him. Finally, even the government came to question him.
They said it was the gang's fate, for they were some of the worst scum around and had a reputation for not showing mercy.
As for Justice, they repeated that he was lucky to have lived. He had escaped both the gang and the crazed, wild animal, and he was the luckiest young man alive.
They couldn't have known just how true those words were—or how he'd managed to stay that way. They couldn't have known that the monster that had killed those gang members—had also saved his life.
But now Justice had a problem. How had he transformed? And why?

I grew up in Montana, and Alaska, and currently live in central US. I hold a BA in Sociology, from the University of Northern Colorado, with a minor in writing, and I am student of the Shaman path. And in spite of my struggles, I am living my dream by being able write and market my writing, and that's a wonderful blessing. Find Lenore Wolfe at: Her Website: http://lenorewolfe.comBlog: http://authorlenorewolfe.blogspot.com/The Fallen One Blog: http://sonsofthedarkmother.blogspot.comTwitter: https://twitter.com/#!/lenorewolfeGoodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4368571.Lenore_Wolfe
This tour was put together by Full Moon Bites Blog Tours.
For a chance at winning a copy of The Fallen One tell me what your favorite paranormal/supernatural being is and please include your email address.

Interview with Mari Mancusi, author of The Blood Coven Vampires series

1. Did you always know you wanted to be a writer or was there something else you wanted to do as a career? I knew I always wanted to write, but I didn't think I could ever turn it into a real career. So I studied film in college and ended up becoming a TV news producer. Working in TV is really great--you get to go a lot of places and meet a ton of people--even famous ones. I used to interview celebrities all the time in NYC and go to red carpet events, etc. But still, I had this burning urge to give it all up and write books! There's just something about being able to sit in front of your computer and make stuff up for a living! Best job in the world. So I'm very thankful I have a chance, now, to do it full time. 2. Is there one author that you have read every book that they have written? That's a good question! I'm not sure there is. My husband likes to tease me that I always watch one season of every TV show. And I'm kind of like that with books, as well. I like to read so many different books, sometimes I don't get to read EVERY book by a certain author. I will say there is an author named Marion Zimmer Bradley, who wrote my favorite book ever -- The Mists of Avalon -- which is a retelling of the King Arthur story from the female point of view. I would like to read all of the books she wrote, but I haven't gotten there yet! 3. In you opinion what is the best movie adaptation of a book that you've read? That's a tough one. It's so hard to watch a film after you've read the books. They just have to leave so much out! I guess I'd have to say The Shining, which is a horror film, based on a Stephen King novel. Both the book and the film are so good—but so different. 4. When you are browsing book stores what is the first section you go to? I usually go the young adult section to check out the new releases. I have a lot of friends who write young adult so it's fun to visit their books, even if I, myself, don't have a new release. I also like to go to the sci-fi/fantasy section. Nowadays I read most of my books digitally so I don't hit the bookstores as often. Which is too bad, in a way. I love browsing through shelves on a rainy day. 5. If your book was being made into a movie do you already have actors in mind for each role? What bands/singers would you put on the soundtrack? I know a lot of my readers have actors in mind to play the parts—sometimes I see them post photos of them on Facebook, etc. I think Ben Barnes would make an excellent Magnus. Maybe Emma Stone could play Rayne? She's a little old, but has the right attitude. Jareth—maybe the character who plays Jasper in the Twilight films? I don't know. I'm sure my readers are better at picking and choosing than me. As for a soundtrack, lots of goth and 80s alternative for Rayne and maybe some happier songs for Sunny. Sisters of Mercy, Bauhaus, VNV Nation, Muse, Death Cab for Cutie, The Cure, Depeche Mode, and, of course MCR. Sunny might want a little Dave Matthews, but that won't be happening, thank you very much! 6. When you're creating characters do you incorporate traits from people you know?
I've definitely done that in the past, thought often not intentionally. An author can't always help fictionalizing things from everyday life. For example, I'd say Sunny and Rayne both have a little of me in each of them. But they're also different.
7. If you had the chance to have a sit down with any author alive or deceased who would it be and why?I'd love to sit down with Anne Rice. She's such a great author and her Vampire Chronicles changed my life. Plus, she seems like she'd be an interesting person to talk to, as well. Very informed and opinionated about the world around her.

The Priest and The Peaches by Larry Peterson promo post

Larry Peterson's blog:
http://www.ThePriestandthePeaches.com
        Larry Peterson's Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/#!/larrytpbx
        Larry Peterson's Twitter:
http://www.twitter.com/slipperywillie
 
Tribute Books website:
http://www.tribute-books.com
        Tribute Books Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/pages/Archbald-PA/Tribute-Books/171628704176
        Tribute Books Twitter:
http://www.twitter.com/TributeBooks

The Priest and the Peaches Book Summary
Historical fiction novel set in the Bronx in the mid-1960s
        Take a seven day journey with the five, newly orphaned Peach kids, as they begin their struggle to remain a family while planning their dad's funeral.
        They find an ally in the local parish priest, Father Tim Sullivan, who tries his best to guide them through the strange, unchartered and turbulent waters of "grown-up world." A story that is sad, funny, and inspiring as it shows how the power of family love and faith can overcome seemingly insurmountable obstacles.

Larry Peterson's Bio:

Larry Peterson was born and raised in  the Bronx, New York. A former Metal Lather/Reinforcing     Iron-worker, he left that business after coming down with MS. He, his wife and three kids moved to Florida 30 years ago. Larry began doing freelance newspaper commentary after graduating from Tampa College in 1984.
        His first children's picture book, Slippery Willie's Stupid, Ugly Shoes was published in 2011. In 2012, his full length novel, The Priest and the Peaches was released and he is presently working on the sequel.
        He also has a blog (http://www.ThePriestandthePeaches.com) where he posts weekly commentary. He lives in Pinellas Park, Florida and his kids and six grandchildren all live within three miles of each other.

eBook
        ISBN: 978-0-9837418-4-8
        ISBN: 978-1-4658-6327-0
        Pages: 285
        Release: January 1, 2012

Kindle buy link
http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B006P0EYI8/ref=as_li_tf_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=tributebooks-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=9325&creativeASIN=B006P0EYI8

        Nook buy link
http://click.linksynergy.com/fs-bin/click?id=dcSBhG3Rj8w&subid=&offerid=239662.1&type=10&tmpid=8432&RD_PARM1=http%253A%252F%252Fwww.barnesandnoble.com%252Fw%252Fthe-priest-and-the-peaches-larry-peterson%252F1108051518%253Fean%253D2940013858190%2526itm%253D1%2526usri%253Dthe%252Bpriest%252Band%252Bthe%252Bpeaches
       
        Smashwords buy link
https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/116166?ref=tributebooks

        PDF buy link
https://www.payloadz.com/go/sip?id=1538819

May I Misquote You On That?

"Have you ever observed that we pay much more attention to a wise passage when it is quoted than when we read it in the original author?"
- Philip G. Hamerton,
The Intellectual Life
As a writer, I'm very cautious about checking my sources of information. As a reader, I'm thrown off by anything I know is obviously false, so it's important to my inner editor to be as accurate as possible. For example: In my work-in-progress, my character fumbles with a gun and an old cellphone, at the same time, ready to drop the phone in an instant if she has to fire. Now, in your average movie, that wouldn't be a problem. We see it all the time: the good guy whips out two Desert Eagles, and starts firing rounds from both, (somehow, magically hitting the bad guy). As a woman who's fired a pistol, however, I know this is impossible. First of all, firing a pistol one handed will most likely break your wrist, as the gun recoils. Second, the Desert Eagle is a huge gun, and notoriously hard to hit a target with. Even with my experience as a target shooter, I searched out a firearms advisor, to check my accuracy in the manuscript. After all, I haven't fired a pistol in twenty years.
I ran into a similar problem with using quotations. At one point, my protagonist is questioned by the police. In a moment of levity, she remembers an old TV show and a famous quote from it. As always, I looked up the quotation, to be sure I had the exact wording. The result of my research surprised me. My "Just the facts, Ma'am" was wrong! You see, the original Dragnet never used that wording. The real quote is "All we want are the facts, ma'am."
"Misquotations are the only quotations that are never misquoted." - Hesketh Pearson

A quick search will net you hundreds of instances where famous "quotes" are, in actuality, famous misquotes.
"Famous remarks are very seldom quoted correctly." - Simeon Strunsky, No Mean City

Here are just a few of the famous misquotes I found in a search:

"Elementary, my dear Watson."
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle never penned this line. Near the beginning of The Crooked Man (1893), Sherlock Holmes does say "...my dear Watson", but it is several lines of dialogue before he says, "Elementary." The word is spoken alone, in response to an exclamation by Watson. This is the closest these four words ever appear together until P. G. Wodehouse wrote the phrase in his novel Psmith, Journalist (1909)

"Hell hath no fury, like a woman scorned."
This one isn't terribly far from the original. Eighteenth century playwright, William Congreve, composed the original, "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned / Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned."

"My momma always said, life was like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get."
If you're quoting the 1994 film of Forrest Gump , you are correct. However, the author of the novel, Winston Groom, wrote an entirely different line: "Bein' an idiot ain't no box of chocolates." It's been said that Groom wasn't happy with the change.

"Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar"
This is one of the most confused examples I found. I'll break it down for you. First of all, the quote is attributed to Sigmund Freud, but it can't be found in any of his writings. It was more likely written by an anonymous journalist, long after Freud died. The story was that Freud was giving a lecture on oral fixation. One of his students made a sassy remark about the pipe Freud always had with him, and Freud supposedly replied, "Sometimes a pipe is just a pipe." So not only is the quote merely a rumour, but it was misquoted as well.

"Theirs is but to do or die!"
The correct quote, from Tennyson's The Charge of the Light Brigade , is only different by one word, but that one word changes so much. The original read: "Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die".

"Beam me up, Scotty!"
This phrase was never uttered by any character in the original Star Trek television series. Interesting to note, however, that the misquote became so popular, it was included in Star Trek: The Animated Series and Star Trek IV: The Voyage. James Doohan even chose the misquotation as the title of his 1996 autobiography. {Ah, the power of a misquote! :D}

"Play it again, Sam."
One of the most famous movie lines, never spoken. The actual quote, from Casablanca: "Play it once, Sam, for old time's sake..." Another popular misquote that became so accepted, it was used as a title. Woody Allen used the title Play It Again, Sam in homage to the original film.

"You dirty rat!"
Every time someone attempts their impersonation of James Cagney, they drag out this popular misquote. The closest Cagney ever came to the phrase was in Blonde Crazy (1931), where his character calls another a "dirty double-crossing rat!" The misquotation likely comes from Cole Porter's musical Anything Goes (1934).

"Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him well."
William Shakespeare is one of the most misquoted authors I've seen. Much of that likely stems from the numerous attempts to translate his work into today's common English. Any student of Shakespeare can tell you the actual quotation from Hamlet should be: "Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him, Horatio – a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy." Although it's difficult to pinpoint the exact source of the misquote, I've heard it used by professional and amateur comedians so often, I've given up trying to correct people when they employ it. ;)

"Music hath charms to soothe the savage beast." Or more commonly, "Music can soothe the savage beast."
From William Congreve's play, The Mourning Bride (1697), the actual quote is: "Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast. To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak."

If you are a writer, it's up to you to decide whether to staunchly defend the "true" quotes, or to use the more commonly known misquote. As Hesketh Pearson wrote, in the Introduction for Common Misquotations : "Misquotation is, in fact, the pride and privilege of the learned. A widely-read man never quotes accurately, for the rather obvious reason that he has read too widely." On the other hand, Alfred North Whitehead said, " I have suffered a great deal from writers who have quoted this or that sentence of mine either out of its context or in juxtaposition to some incongruous matter which quite distorted my meaning , or destroyed it altogether." What do you prefer, as a reader? Would you rather read the familiar misquote, or the accurate original?

Researching this post reminded me of how careful I must be when choosing my words. Should I ever become famous, (Ha, ha, ha, ha! Excuse me.), the phrases I write may one day become twisted into fad phrases. How awesome would that be? ;D

Review and excerpt of Evil Ambulance by Mark Rinker

Review
Evil Ambulance by Mark Rinker starts off at a decent pace and the evil ambulance makes an early appearance but then the suspense slows down considerably. On the plus side, I did like the cast of characters that were created by Mark Rinker, particularly the bookstore owner Bern because he was so quirky and interesting.  Given the title I was expecting more suspense and fear but I found it to be somewhat lacking.
Blurb Eighteen-year-old Eric Donnelly moves to a small town in Pennsylvania, to live with his uncle, Dan, while his parents finalize their divorce. Dan has recently purchased an old house which sits atop a three-mile hill overlooking the town of Riverwood; a house which is host to the decades-old presence of Victor Devlin, a homicidal ambulance driver responsible for a series of brutal murders years before. Eric soon finds himself alone, as the spirit of the ambulance driver begins to inhabit his uncle's body, and each night Devlin's ambulance appears in the driveway, eerily glowing, calling to Eric.  He stepped past Eric and crossed the short distance between their rooms. He found Eric's room bathed in a most unusual glow. Something about the light seemed to move, like fish swimming through it, or waves caressing one another. Waves of dull light. What could possibly be going on here? he thought again.He crossed the room, to the window. Eric stood in the doorway, watching him. Dan placed his hands on the window ledge, propping himself up, because he most definitely felt like he might collapse again.The ambulance, the source of the glow, waited in the driveway. It sat there, still, its engine purring, in terrific shape for a vehicle many decades old. The lights atop the ambulance didn't light up or spin, but were enveloped by—and at the same time, exuding—the yellow, murky glow which consumed the rest of the vehicle.Dan was only able to look at it for about ten seconds—ten seconds in which he was transfixed, absorbed entirely—before a sudden pain, worse than any he'd felt yet, attacked him, hit him square in the forehead, and knocked him to the floor."Dan!" Eric was crossing the room in a hurry.Dan faintly registered the sound of the ambulance pulling out of the driveway. He held both hands to his forehead, tears spilling out of his eyes, the pain driving into his skull, into his brain. He was unable to scream, though he'd never known anything as terrifying as that sudden hellish jolt.
Author Bio Mark R. Rinker was born in California, but has spent most of his life in eastern Pennsylvania. His short story, "Dog Mask" was published earlier this year by Dark Gothic Resurrected magazine, and Evil Ambulance is his first novel. Sites
markrrinker.blogspot.comfacebook.com/markrrinkerpa(twitter) @markrrinker

Interview with Jessica Brody, author of My Life Undecided

Did you always know you wanted to be a writer or was there something else you wanted to do as a career?

The short answer is yes. I've always wanted to be a writer. Although it took me a long time to figure that out. In second grade I turned in a four page book report (the assignment was to write one paragraph) and the teacher made such a huge deal about it. I really couldn't understand why. Writing just came naturally to me. At that moment I remember wanting to be a writer. But somewhere along the way I convinced myself that I needed to get a "serious" job…you know, one that comes with dental insurance. So I majored in Economics in college (very serious!) and went on to be a financial analyst for MGM Studios. It wasn't until later that I realized "serious" wasn't for me. So I quit to pick up where I left off at age seven.

There are a few, actually! Here's a list: Emily Giffin, Sophie Kinsella, Alyson Noël, J.K. Rowling, Christopher Pike (I used to be obsessed with him as a kid!), and Jennifer Bosworth (technically she only has one release so far, but I'm lucky enough to be her friend and to have read her next book too!)

Well, it hasn't released yet but I have VERY high hopes for THE HUNGER GAMES. I love love love the book series and so far, the movie trailers look excellent. It's just a book that really lends itself to being a movie. It has a very cinematic plot. So I'm hoping that will be my answer in about two weeks! But until then, I'll go with THE HELP. I thought they did an amazing job of capturing the magic of that book. And the Harry Potter series also made fantastic movies. But no matter how good an adaptation is, the books are always better, aren't they?
Young adult! I love this section. Actually nowadays it's all I read. And not just because I write in this genre, but because I really think some of the best books out there are YA books. They have faster plots, more action, and great characters!

For My Life Undecided¸ I've always pictured Shailene Woodley as Brooklyn Pierce. She has this great innocence about her look which I love. And she's an amazing actress. For The Karma Club, I would really love to see Selena Gomez in the role of Maddy. As for bands for the soundtrack, well, I actually already did a soundtrack for The Karma Club. It's on iTunes and it even has four original songs that were written JUST for the book. You can check it out here: http://itunes.apple.com/us/album/the-karma-club-original-book/id407598156

When you're creating characters do you incorporate traits from people you know?
Yes, all the time! MY LIFE UNDECIDED actually has a few real people in it. I set it in my home town of Parker, Colorado, at a fictitious representation of my own high school. Mr. Simpson, the Algebra teacher in the book is based entirely on Mr. Simpson, my own high school algebra teacher.
If you had the chance to have a sit down with any author alive or deceased who would it be and why?
I definitely think it would have to be J.K. Rowling. I would love to see how her brain works. I'm in total awe of that imagination of hers!


Thanks for the fun interview! These were great questions! I hope you and your blog readers enjoy my answers! 