Just finished reading the last of a series of books on my Kindle...the usual sort of cops and murderers stories. But goodness gracious was the proof reading appalling...actually I suspect they weren't actually proof read by anyone...
So I've sent him an e-mail and asked if he'd like me to run through the next book he writes before he has it published...
The spelling mistakes drove me quite crackers and his use of upper case lettering was decidedly eccentric...then he happily stated that one of the main characters in the last story was the stepfather when he was nothing of the kind...he was the father-in-law.
It's a pity, because the stories themselves are good...certainly enough to keep me reading until the wee small hours...and the main character, who is a dissolute policeman, is believable.
Now I've started a book by another unknown...an authoress this time...and she uses the word 'smirked' every other feckin sentence...I counted it three times on one page last night. And it was in reference to three different people...just had a vision of all these folk standing around smirking...not a disarming picture.
These books are either freebies or cost pennies so I suppose it really serves me right, after all, the old adage is that you get what you pay for. But it is also a bit of a shame because underneath the howling spelling errors and the lack of a Thesaurus lies a decent thriller with enough twists in the plot to keep you guessing and a side-story of the internal politics of a busy inner-city police station.
My Uncle Alan, who is rapidly approaching his hundredth year, used to be a proof reader...he'd give me his proof copies of the books he read and I have them still. Luckily, they had innocent titles hiding the contents of a novel probably totally unsuitable for a twelve year old voracious reader...but Uncle Alan didn't much care for Mother so I suspect he was passing them on to me deliberately... I do know he used to exaggerate his Yorkshire accent because he knew it drove her quite demented...and he'd play cards with me for money and eat raw onions just before suppertime when he came to stay. Then he'd belch discreetly and my little brother and I would laugh and kick each other under the table...
Funny what comes back to you after many years isn't it?