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books

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I'm making lots of lists lately and figured I'd keep going. Since I often get asked what my favorite books are and I can never answer, here are a few books I think are worth reading. Siddartha , by Herman Hesse. The book that changed my way of viewing the world. The Stand , by Stephen King. One of the best books ever. Archetypal good vs. evil, great writing, and interesting characters. Lonesome Dove , by Larry McMurty. Never have I experienced such real and rounded characters on the written page. The Lust Lizard of Melancholy Cove , by Christopher Moore. Laugh out loud funny and strange. A Prayer for Owen Meany , by John Irving. Funny but thought provoking. I think better, but very different than Cider House Rules, World According to Garp or Hotel New Hampshire . To Kill a Mockingbird , by Harper Lee. Classic coming of age. The Prince of Tides , by Pat Conroy. I think he'll be recognized as one of the great writers of the age. This one has sentences that are abso
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what goes up, must come down

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"Once on the elevator , elevator etiquette experts strongly recommend standing as close to a wall or corner as possible to make room for other riders. You should move to the back of the elevator if you are going a long way, and stay in the front if you plan to get off soon. If you decide to stand in front of the elevator buttons, be prepared to be asked to push buttons for other elevator riders. While in an elevator , you shouldn't eat, smoke, or talk on your cellphone. Many people prefer to ride an elevator in silence, so if you have to strike up a conversation with someone, keep the topic neutral, and your tone of voice low. If other people in the elevator seem irritated or upset by your conversation, you may want to change the topic or quiet down. Step aside for people getting off the elevator , and be sure not to block the door when the elevator stops.  ~Wisegeek.com Heh heh heh.  I've discovered a new hobby.  It's called "freak out the strangers on
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imagination

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She moved to the beach to start over. After years behind a desk, processing paperwork for deadbeats, she was looking to forward some quiet. Her monthly pension from the state, combined with social security and the money her father had left her provided enough income for the full cable package on television, her book of the month club, and necessities. She didn't subscribe to the newspaper any more; nothing in there but bad news. All her working life had been dealing with deadbeats, people making excuses for why they weren't working, why they didn't take care of their children, their bills, or themselves. The newspaper was just a reminder of that. The first slug appeared late in the evening. She'd just finished watching America's Got Talent and went to check the doors and windows before heading to bed for the night. When she turned on the porch light, she saw a huge shadow on the screen door. About 4 inches long, it had worked the front half of
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