James Patterson
James Patterson
James Brendan Pattersonis an American author. He is largely known for his novels about fictional psychologist Alex Cross, the protagonist of the Alex Cross series. Patterson also wrote the Michael Bennett, Women's Murder Club, Maximum Ride, Daniel X, and Witch and Wizard series, as well as many stand-alone thrillers, non-fiction and romance novels. His books have sold more than 300 million copies and he holds the Guinness World Record for being the first person to sell 1 million e-books...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionNovelist
Date of Birth22 March 1947
CityNewburgh, NY
CountryUnited States of America
I flipped down the visor so I could check myself in the mirror, and something small and heavy dropped into my lap. I froze, my breath stuck in my throat. What—? Gingerly, I looked down. It wasn’t a grenade. It was a key ring. One key was for this van. I looked at it blankly. “Well, that’ll simplify things,” Fang said.
When did they start coming after you?” “Was it—was it after the oil- slick Hummer crash?” the Gasman asked Iggy tentatively. My eyes widened. Oil-slick Hummer crash? Iggy rubbed his chin, thinking. “Or maybe it was more---after the bomb,” the Gasman said in a low voice, looking down. “I think it was the bomb,” Iggy agreed. “That definitely seemed to tick them off.” “Bomb?” I asked incredulously.
They aren't the brightest crayons in the box -Max(saving the world and other extreme sports)
Max-Dogs, dogs, go away, let me live another day.
It gets so tiring, this strong-picking-on-the-weak stuff. It was the story of my life -literally- and it seemed to be a big part of the outside world too. I was sick of it, sick of guys like these, stupid and bullying.
Yeah, and so Max and Dylan are supposed to, like, go to Germany and have kids together," I heard Gazzy say. My eyes popped open and I bolted upright. "What?" Fang said, his voice icy. "Gazzy!" I yelled. Wide blue eyes looked at me in surprise, then back at Fang's stoic face. "Oh. Was I not supposed to say anything?" Gazzy asked.
Gazzy sniffed the air. "That's explosives. It smells like Christmas!" Okay, so we've had somewhat untraditional Christmases. With explosives.
Listen, street punk. You're a guy, and you're a couple inches taller, and maybe forty pounds heavier, and ooh, you're in a gang. But I've survived ten years of Catholic school, and I will cut you off at your knees without a blink. Do you understand?
I had to give him props, but how annoying of him to be a hero when I was trying so hard to dislike him. It was downright selfish.
I have an idea. It’s risky, and Max will kill us when she finds out.” Iggy raised his head. “Sounds like my kind of idea.
I do 30 to 40 books a year, so it's a fair amount of reading. Back and forth between nonfiction and fiction. I usually have three or four things that are open on my desk, on my bed, on audiobook in the car.
With my adult books, for the first six weeks or so, it's about 60 percent ebooks in terms of sales. The kids' books, it's like 5 percent. Which means that the parents, the ones that aren't going into stores now, they're no longer buying books for their kids, which is not great.
What you have to understand is that Michael's film isn't really a documentary. It's a portrait,
The fact is that our kids aren't reading books - or frankly, much of anything lately. Schools are under funded, some schools even closing their libraries. Parents have to realize that it's their job, and not the school's job, to get kids into the habit of reading for fun.