James Patterson Quote

It was at night, I say. What was? What happened. The car wreck. We were driving along the Storm King Highway. Where’s that? Oh, it’s one of the most scenic drives in the whole state, I say, somewhat sarcastically. Route 218. The road that connects West Point and Cornwall up in the Highlands on the west side of the Hudson River. It’s narrow and curvy and hangs off the cliffs on the side of Storm King Mountain. An extremely twisty two-lane road. With a lookout point and a picturesque stone wall to stop you from tumbling off into the river. Motorcycle guys love Route 218. We stop moving forward and pause under a streetlamp. But if you ask me, they shouldn’t let trucks use that road. Cool Girl looks at me. Go on, Jamie, she says gently. And so I do. Like I said, it was night. And it was raining. We’d gone to West Point to take the tour, have a picnic. It was a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky until the tour was over, and then it started pouring. Guess we stayed too late. Me, my mom, my dad. Now I bite back the tears. My little sister. Jenny. You would’ve liked Jenny. She was always happy. Always laughing. We were on a curve. All of a sudden, this truck comes around the side of the cliff. It’s halfway in our lane and fishtailing on account of the slick road. My dad slams on the brakes. Swerves right. We smash into a stone fence and bounce off it like we’re playing wall ball. The hood of our car slides under the truck, right in front of its rear tires—tires that are smoking and screaming and trying to stop spinning. I see it all again. In slow motion. The detail never goes away. They all died, I finally say. My mother, my father, my little sister. I was the lucky one. I was the only one who survived.

James Patterson

It was at night, I say. What was? What happened. The car wreck. We were driving along the Storm King Highway. Where’s that? Oh, it’s one of the most scenic drives in the whole state, I say, somewhat sarcastically. Route 218. The road that connects West Point and Cornwall up in the Highlands on the west side of the Hudson River. It’s narrow and curvy and hangs off the cliffs on the side of Storm King Mountain. An extremely twisty two-lane road. With a lookout point and a picturesque stone wall to stop you from tumbling off into the river. Motorcycle guys love Route 218. We stop moving forward and pause under a streetlamp. But if you ask me, they shouldn’t let trucks use that road. Cool Girl looks at me. Go on, Jamie, she says gently. And so I do. Like I said, it was night. And it was raining. We’d gone to West Point to take the tour, have a picnic. It was a beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky until the tour was over, and then it started pouring. Guess we stayed too late. Me, my mom, my dad. Now I bite back the tears. My little sister. Jenny. You would’ve liked Jenny. She was always happy. Always laughing. We were on a curve. All of a sudden, this truck comes around the side of the cliff. It’s halfway in our lane and fishtailing on account of the slick road. My dad slams on the brakes. Swerves right. We smash into a stone fence and bounce off it like we’re playing wall ball. The hood of our car slides under the truck, right in front of its rear tires—tires that are smoking and screaming and trying to stop spinning. I see it all again. In slow motion. The detail never goes away. They all died, I finally say. My mother, my father, my little sister. I was the lucky one. I was the only one who survived.

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About James Patterson

James Brendan Patterson (born March 22, 1947) is an American author. Among his works are the Alex Cross, Michael Bennett, Women's Murder Club, Maximum Ride, Daniel X, NYPD Red, Witch & Wizard, Private and Middle School series, as well as many stand-alone thrillers, non-fiction, and romance novels. Patterson's books have sold more than 425 million copies, and he was the first person to sell one million e-books. In 2016, Patterson topped Forbes's list of highest-paid authors for the third consecutive year, with an income of $95 million. His total income over a decade is estimated at $700 million.
In November 2015, Patterson received the Literarian Award from the National Book Foundation. He has donated millions of dollars in grants and scholarship to various universities, teachers' colleges, independent bookstores, school libraries, and college students to promote literacy.