Standaard Boekhandel gebruikt cookies en gelijkaardige technologieën om de website goed te laten werken en je een betere surfervaring te bezorgen.
Hieronder kan je kiezen welke cookies je wilt inschakelen:
Technische en functionele cookies
Deze cookies zijn essentieel om de website goed te laten functioneren, en laten je toe om bijvoorbeeld in te loggen. Je kan deze cookies niet uitschakelen.
Analytische cookies
Deze cookies verzamelen anonieme informatie over het gebruik van onze website. Op die manier kunnen we de website beter afstemmen op de behoeften van de gebruikers.
Marketingcookies
Deze cookies delen je gedrag op onze website met externe partijen, zodat je op externe platformen relevantere advertenties van Standaard Boekhandel te zien krijgt.
Je kan maximaal 250 producten tegelijk aan je winkelmandje toevoegen. Verwijdere enkele producten uit je winkelmandje, of splits je bestelling op in meerdere bestellingen.
"My four legitimately published thrillers, and the four works collected here. It's like a brood of eight children - four conventional offspring, and four rambunctious foster kids. Four who have enjoyed all the easy benefits; striding proudly and blithely forward on publishing's straight and narrow - toeing the line, earning their dutiful reviewer A's (well, a couple of A's, mostly B-pluses), attending the best (well, decent) schools, handsomely clothed in their hardcovers, standing at timeless, dutiful, alphabetical attention on library and bookstore shelves. The children you never have to worry about. Versus four that have been battered around by the world. They deserve better. They bring out my protective instincts. They deserve a home. Here is their home. And these unconventional children - the "unsuccessful" ones, the adventurers, the wanderers, aren't they more interesting? Aren't they the ones you want to hear about? The ones who are wreck divers, ski instructors, bartenders, cabbies, aren't their stories more interesting than your law partner, your radiologist, your financial-analyst kids?" These are my foster children. My stepkids. My orphans. A little wild. A little unpredictable. More than a little unwelcome in the world. But come say hello, at least. Tussle their hair. Pinch their cheeks. They won't bite. Well, no promises.