Lee Child
Lee Child is a British thriller novelist, screenwriter, and television producer born in Coventry on October 29, 1954.
Child was educated at King Edward's School in Birmingham and later at the University of Sheffield. Before turning to fiction, he spent eighteen years at Granada Television in Manchester working as a presentation director.
He received the Anthony Award for Best First Novel and the 1998 Barry Award for Best First Novel, and his debut novel, Killing Floor, stands as one of his notable works. He has produced a number of further titles, including Die Trying, Tripwire, Bad Luck and Trouble, Gone Tomorrow, Never Go Back, and The Affair. Child writes in English and holds United Kingdom citizenship. His work across prose fiction has also extended into screenwriting, and he has worked as a television producer. He received the Cartier Diamond Dagger award in recognition of his contributions to the field.
The thriller genre runs as a consistent thread through Child's career as a novelist, and it's the framework within which his body of work, from Killing Floor through to his later titles, has been produced.
Quotes by Lee Child
Lee Child's insights on:
I write in the afternoon, from about 12 until 6 or 7. I use an upstairs room as my office. Once I get going I keep at it, and it usually takes about six months from the first blank screen until 'The End.'
I felt a little envious for a second. If I got offed in the woods late one night, I doubted if three tough guys would go straight to someone’s office, eight in the morning, champing at the bit, ready for revenge. Then I looked at the three of them again and thought, This particular perp could be in a shitload of trouble. All I’d have to do is drop a name.
She has a caller ID system,” Reacher said. “With coordinates. She’s probably watching this house right now, on Google Earth.” “But it’s dark.” “Don’t ask me how it works.” He.
Then Reacher breathed out and raised a placatory don’t-shoot palm, and he half-stood, slow and calm, unthreatening, the complete opposite of sudden, and he kept himself half-turned away from the guys with the guns, and half-turned toward the group on the sofa, and he said, “Come on, Emily, let’s get this done. They’re going to nail you one way or the other. Might as well make it easy on yourself.
Reacher was led through the door on the left and onward to an interview room. Which had no windows. Just four blank walls, and a table bolted to the floor, with two chairs on one side and one on the other. The room had not been designed by the dining room guy. That was clear. There was no blond wood or carpet. Just scuffed white paint on cinder block, and a cracked concrete floor, and a fluorescent bulb in a wire cage on the ceiling.
He drew back the string an extra inch. The arrowhead moved backward, the same inch, toward his hand, clenched tight around the grip. The bow curved harder. It sang with tension.
This is why we need more women officers. For us it’s enough to win. For you, the other guy has to know he lost.
There were pictures on the walls, all of them dime-store prints of Jesus. In all of them Jesus had blue eyes and wore pale blue robes and had long blond hair and a neat blond beard. He looked more like a Malibu surfer than a Jew from two thousand years ago.
