SNYDERMANIA: The First Review of The Eight Fingered Criminal's Son

Sunday, September 18, 2011

The First Review of The Eight Fingered Criminal's Son

Here is the first Amazon review, written by Bryan Frank.

"Not just funny, but laugh-out-loud funny, insightful and touching. The life of William R. (Buzz) Snyder growing up in the City of Hawthorne, California is perfect in its' honesty and heart.

Buy it and read it and tell everyone you know about it. That way, when the movie comes out and Buzz is getting the Academy Award for best screenplay, he might mention your name like he sure as heck better remember to mention mine.

Yeah, that's me listed in the dedication. Doesn't mean what I'm saying isn't true."

http://www.amazon.com/The-Eight-Fingered-Criminals-Son-ebook/dp/B005NWH8L4/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1316398752&sr=1-1

You can download the book at Amazon by clicking on the funky configuration above. You can read the book without a Kindell. Just download the free Kindell app at Amazon.com/

5 comments:

#167 Dad said...: Rick, will do as soon as the dead tree copies. I can only offer the ebook for now. It's good to hear fromyou, Rick...; September 19, 2011 at 8:33 PM
#167 Dad said...: Final report for day 2: 22 books sold. Number 10,105 on the Amazon best seller list.; September 19, 2011 at 8:34 PM
#167 Dad said...: The book is only five bucks, ladies and germs...; September 19, 2011 at 8:37 PM
Midlife Roadtripper said...: Just purchased and already loaded on my Kindle. Congrats. And I always told you I'd buy it.; September 20, 2011 at 9:07 PM
#167 Dad said...: Midlife Jobhunter,
THANK YOU!
I hope you enjoy the stories. Please review the book on Amazon and spread the word, but only if you don't hate it. THANK YOU!!!; September 21, 2011 at 7:58 PM

NORTHERN EXPOSURE

Goethe's final words: "More light." Ever since we crawled out of that primordial slime, that's been our unifying cry: "More light." Sunlight. Torchlight. Candlight. Neon. Incandescent. Lights that banish the darkness from our caves, to illuminate our roads, the insides of our refrigerators. Big floods for the night games at Soldier's field. Little tiny flashlight for those books we read under the covers when we're supposed to be asleep. Light is more than watts and footcandles. Light is metaphor. Thy word is a lamp unto my feet. Rage, rage against the dying of the light. Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom Lead Thou me on! The night is dark, and I am far from home- Lead Thou me on! Arise, shine, for thy light has come. Light is knowledge. Light is life. Light is light.

FIELD OF DREAMS

Well, you know I... I never got to bat in the major leagues. I would have liked to have had that chance. Just once. To stare down a big league pitcher. To stare him down, and just as he goes into his windup, wink. Make him think you know something he doesn't. That's what I wish for. Chance to squint at a sky so blue that it hurts your eyes just to look at it. To feel the tingling in your arm as you connect with the ball. To run the bases - stretch a double into a triple, and flop face-first into third, wrap your arms around the bag. That's my wish, Ray Kinsella. That's my wish. And is there enough magic out there in the moonlight to make this dream come true?