Try any goddam thing you like, no matter how boringly normal or outrageous. If it works, fine. If it doesn't, toss it. Toss it even if you love it.
Stephen KingRead
Kindle, isn’t it?” the waitress asked. “I got one for Christmas, and I love it. I’m reading my way through all of Jodi Picoult’s books.” “Oh, probably not all of them,” Wesley said. “Huh? Why not?” “She’s probably got another one done already. That’s all I meant.” “And James Patterson’s probably written one since he got up this morning!” she said, and went off chortling.
Interpretation
This quote humorously highlights the prolific nature of certain authors and the challenge of keeping up with their works.
In this exchange, the waitress expresses her enthusiasm for reading Jodi Picoult's books, only to be reminded by Wesley that prolific authors like her and James Patterson are constantly publishing new titles. This playful banter emphasizes not only the immense volume of work produced by some writers but also the light-hearted frustration of avid readers who wish to keep pace with their favorite authors.
In practice
Use this quote to lighten the mood at a book club meeting.
Try any goddam thing you like, no matter how boringly normal or outrageous. If it works, fine. If it doesn't, toss it. Toss it even if you love it.
Eddie discovered one of his childhood's great truths. Grownups are the real monsters, he thought.
Hairstyles change, and skirt lengths, and slang, but high school administrations? Never.
Description begins in the writer’s imagination, but should finish in the reader’s.
That's the day's business. Thinking. Thinking and isolation, because it doesn't matter if you pass the time of day with someone or not; in the end, you're alone. He seemed to have put in as many miles in his brain as he had with his feet. The thoughts kept coming and there was no way to deny them.
Late last night and the night before, tommyknockers, tommyknockers knocking on my door. I wanna go out, don't know if I can 'cuz I'm so afraid of the tommyknocker man.
I was making my living from a joke about my appearance that I didn't understand, and in a way still don't, because when I look in a mirror it doesn't seem funny to me.
Getting out of the hospital is a lot like resigning from a book club. You're not out of it until the computer says you're out of it.
There's no real preparing at home for stand-up. You just go and you just do it.
In the end, everything is a gag.
Anywhere, anytime, I'd sacrifice the finest nuance for a laugh, the most elegant trope for a smile.
Nothing ever happened on this globe, for good, at which some people did not have their fill of laughter in the onset; and knowing that such as these would be blind anyway, he thought it quite as well that they should wrinkle up their eyes in grins, as have a malady in the less attractive forms.
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