Favorite Genre, Author, Book, Character

[Shoe]

Look familiar? I made a similar one a while ago, though it was about games. This one is about books!

So then, please post your:

Favorite Genre(s)
Favorite Author(s) who wrote (a) book(s) from that genre
Favorite Book(s) from that(those) Author(s)
Favorite Character(s) from that(those) book(s)
Anything else; interesting/funny moment, plot twists, etc.

As for me:

Fantasy
Books are written so people who wish to get away from the real world can do just that. Until they finish them. The fantasy genre is the perfect example for this in my eyes because it deals with things that we cannot comprehend, and its fun to see characters similar to us involved with those supernatural things.

J.R.R. Tolkien
He's the lord of fantasy, what else is there to say? His books are superb, he had a beautiful mind and imagination, and his stories were deep, involving, and inspiring.

The Hobbit
I place this book above all others (besides the Bible) because of its charming mood and enchanting story. I have yet to finish it, but I still love it more than any other book. Tolkien himself said he did not like how he addressed the reader personally, but that's one of the very reasons I love it so much, and what led the book to its success. It had such a captivating theme, world, and characters, and they'll remain in my memories and heart for as long as I live.

Beorn and Gandalf
I loved Beorn's character. He was a giant man with broad shoulders, black hair, and a thick black beard, and he was a "skin-changer" as described in the book. I liked him so much because he was the secretive, protective kind of person who loved animals, and he could change into one too; a black bear which retained his great size and strength. Then there was Gandalf the Gray. He was a wizard who knew a lot about the world, and he was clever and quite unpredictable.

The Riddle Game and the Songs
The Riddle Game with Bilbo and Gollum was one of the most suspensful moments in the book for me. I also loved the clever riddles Tolkien made, and it was fun to guess some of them (I got a few right). And it also explained how Bilbo came across the One Ring. I also loved the songs the Dwarves sang; how they related to and lightened any suspense in the situation at the time.

[red.yoshi]

Fantasy
Dragons, swordplay, magic, bows. I just can't get enough of it!

Chris Paolini

Eragon
Much, much better than the movie. I recommend reading it if you like a good fantasy adventure story.

Probably. . .Eragon.

(Sorry its so short, on a tight schedule. Might add more later.)

[Yoshi]

Horror.

Give me your creepy moments, your terrifying scenarios, and the things that just ain't right.

The 666th frame of every Halloween-themed movie, cartoon, or TV special depicts a basement with a corpse moldering in the corner; these frames are often removed from the final film, but one can find them on occasion. There's a movie buff who collects them and puts them in order based on the age of the film they're from. He says the corpse is obviously moving from frame to frame.

Stephen King

Man can write, son. What makes it best for me is that it's more often a normal person dropped into a very bad situation, which makes them a lot easier to sympathize with for me.

The Tower of Babel? Look closer. It was a space elevator. Somebody wants to keep us on this planet.

It, The Stand, Dreamcatcher

All for different reasons; it's really hard to describe why I like them so much. They all have very large buildups and most of the characters are likable, even the antagonists. Once I started reading these things I couldn't put them down. Highly recommended.

He would stare up at the sky at night, his head very still, stare then play the most beautiful and sad harmonica music I ever heard, wearing those crazy taped up glasses. The tape is the lines he said; the stars, are the notes.

Henry sees The Line

From Dreamcatcher, the psychologist Henry has a little mood shift in the middle of a session with a fat patient who does nothing but talk about all the food he's eaten.

“You do think you killed her, don’t you?” Henry asks. He speaks casually, almost lightly.
“I-I never-I resent-“
“She called and she called, said she was having chest pains, but of course she said that often, didn’t she? Every other week. Every other day, it sometimes seemed. Calling downstairs to you. ‘Barry, phone Dr. Withers. Barry, call an ambulance. Barry, dial 911.’”
They have never talked about Barry’s parents. In his soft, fat, implacable way, Barry will not allow it. He will begin to discuss them- at least seem to- and then bingo, he’ll be talking about roast lamb again, or roast chicken, or roast duck with orange sauce. Back to the inventory. Hence Henry knows nothing about Barry’s parents, certainly not about the day Barry’s mother died, falling out of bed and pissing on the carpet, still calling and calling, three hundred pounds and so disgustingly fat, calling and calling. He can know nothing about that because he hasn’t been told, but he does know. And Barry was thinner then, a relatively svelte one-ninety.
This is Henry’s version of the line. Seeing the line. Henry hasn’t seen it for maybe five years now (unless he sometimes sees it in dreams), thought all that was over, and now here it is again.
“You sat in front of the TV, listening to her yell,” he says. “You sat there watching Ricki Lake and eating-what?-a Sara Lee cheesecake? A bowl of ice cream? I don’t know. But you let her yell.”
“Stop it!”
“You let her yell, and really, why not? She’d been crying wolf her whole life. You are not a stupid man and you know that’s true. This sort of thing happens. I think you know that, too. You’ve cast yourself in your own little Tennessee Williams play simply because you like to eat. But guess what, Barry? It’s really going to kill you. In your secret heart you don’t believe that, but it’s true. Your heart’s already pounding like a premature burial victim beating his fists on the lid of a coffin. What’s it going to be like eighty or a hundred pounds from now?”
“Shut-“
“When you fall, Berry, it’s going to be like the fall of Babel in the desert. The people who see you go down will talk about it for years. Man, you’ll shake the dishes right off the shelves-“
“Stop it!” Barry is sitting up now, he hasn’t needed Henry to give him a hand this time, and he is deadly pale except for little wild roses, one growing in each cheek.
“-You’ll splash the coffee right out of the cups, and you’ll piss yourself just like she did-“
“STOP IT!” Barry Newman shrieks. “STOP IT, YOU MONSTER!”
But Henry can’t. Henry can’t. He sees the line and when you see it, you can’t unsee it.
“-unless you wake up from this poisoned dream you’re having. You see, Barry-“
But Barry doesn’t want to see, absolutely will not see. Out the door he runs, vast buttocks juggling, and he is gone.