THE TANGENTIAL BOOK REVIEW

THE COMPLETE GUIDE TO THE TANGENTIAL BOOK REVIEW

How to write a tangential book review. As a pro book reviewer I grew weary of the standard book review, I hate critics so I only choose books I enjoy or at one time enjoyed and then I review them with out prejudice. Now just because I have make up things does not mean I am a liar, all my reviews are based on fact, see poetic license.

What I do is find a story that I need to tell and I write it down without much thought so as not to upstage the book I am going to review. I finish my story and then I go to my book shelf , sometimes my memory and decide on a book I have read and choose it for the review. I then mention that I like the book and then try to segue my tangent best I can. (again no need to get anal with this) Perfection is what motivates me as a reviewer. Most of the time nothing really makes sense to anyone but me and whoever may have been present or been offered the repetition of the story to the point they would rather open a vein than hear the story again. Some story’s have never been recounted then I count on people to trust me and my good friend poetic license.

Bullet Points: * Give a short intro about the book. (brevity at its shortest)
* Tell the reader it "reminds you of the time".
* Tell your tale.
* Wrap it up about how much you liked the book.
· Done and done.

Don’t lose heart it is not as complex as it may sound, so give it a try if you feel inspired, it don’t cost nuthin.’

EXAMPLE:

17 of 26 people found the following review helpful:

Read the book, March 25, 2005

Reviewer:

Jonathan W. Williams (usa) - See all my reviews

It was around 1971/72 that I first discovered an alternative to how to determine if your motorcycle had spark or not. I credit my brother Charles Chadwick with this revelation and I will soon explain. This was in the days of Nixon's Watergate, Hunter S Thompsons prime, Dark Side of the Moon's debut and me learning once again that my brother cared so much about me as to teach me to trust no one. I had been riding bikes for awhile and being a child of nine/ten I cant blame myself for being ignorant of the workings of a two stroke internal combustion engine. I knew how the method of testing for spark if your bike would not start, just take the plug out lay it on the head and kick her over, you see spark you have spark. Good ole Chuckles ever mindful of my education taught me a shocking method of discovery. This was along time ago so patience please, my bike would not start, I did everything I knew mechanically to diagnose the problem. The bike had gas, the fuel petcock was turned to the on position. I checked for spark...nothing. Chuck came to my rescue and started to work on my bike kick it over and over as if it could be flooded, mumbled a number of ridiculous hypothesis why my bike would not start, then I should have recognized that dreadful glint of discovery in his eyes, he had a solution. "Josh hold onto the plug while I kick it over I need to check something"...Although my last Doctors visit did not indicate I am in imminent peril of going into cardiac arrest , I learned from my beloved brother at the tender age of nineish what it must feel like when you hear from the cold distance a paramedic yell CLEAR! A shocking revelation, and a lesson well learned. Travel through time abit to 1976 and I am riding in North Carolina with me Da and my brother, we always visited in the summers and Christmas since this was where my grandparents lived. Always a good time and always a good story , if I could only remember them all. This year it was Christmas and me da had the state of the art Yamaha 1976 360 mono-shock motocross bike. Set him back a pretty penny, I agreed not to go to college so he could indulge himself. The bike was awesome! I being a prime example of neoteny could only ride the bike if someone would start it for me and then I would run along side it and jump on when I felt I could balance the beast. The thing was a brute but my god what a blast, I can still can feel the power and glee piled upon glee and...Where was I?...Yea North Carolina, me da, Chuckles (Charlie does not like this nickname, nor do I like being shocked by a live spark plug, paybacks) were out riding on public land, a big sand field really, I dunno, this was 1976 for crying out loud and lawyers/environmentalists had not gained a foothold on the proper methods to bleed us of our freedom to ride around and have fun. Me da took a break, gassed up his new 360 and then promptly could not start the thing. So being the father of my gene pool he naturally pulled the plug on the bike and laid it on the head to check for spark, which it did indeed have and the bike suddenly fired up, not in the traditional way but in the way when kicked over a bike reeking of gas and set a live spark to it will fire up... I missed all the excitement , the futile efforts of throwing sand on the burning pyre of sport , the profanity and the facial expressions, National Geographic cover worthy facial expressions one can imagine. I road back only to find that the nitrogen shock had exploded and it was pretty cool but not worth the price of admission me da assured me. We drug our bikes home that Christmas the blackened carcass of the 360 among them and listened to the truckers and the hip crowd with CB's make comments on the two bikes with the charred remains of something...My mom was a good sport , my da did not cry (at least in front of me) and for awhile ole Chuckles and myself had to share our bikes with Da. ">