And now we pause to ask ourselves a Philosophical Question, viz., is there anything more enjoyable, more ineffably satisfying than pointing out other people's mistakes? Judging from the comments I receive at work, I must conclude that the answer is no. In that spirit, then, I direct your attention to the following exhibit:
The above was a MyPoints offer that landed in my inbox this morning. I've never belonged to any of the book clubs in question--at various times I've been a member of the Book-of-the-Month Club, the Literary Guild, the Mystery Guild, the Quality Paperback Book Club, and the Detective Book Club (which in many ways was the best of the bunch)--and so I render no judgment upon them. Well, one judgment: True, my children are now teenagers, and so I am not as conversant on the topic of children's books as once was the case...but I am almost positive that James Patterson's work is seldom categorized as children's literature (see the second item in the illustration above).
As we say in the trade: Whoops.
As we also say in the trade: Glad it wasn't me, hee-hee-hee!