If you follow me regularly on Twitter or Facebook, you probably know I’ve left the fabulous mystery blog Murderati. You can read all about it here. In a nutshell: if I’m going to write three books a year and raise five kids, something had to give.

I’ve talked about social media in the past, the pros and cons (and there are pros and cons, don’t let anyone tell you it’s all good or it’s all bad.) Blogging is part of “social media” but I think it goes a step beyond. It’s easy to Tweet a comment or retweet a link or great writing quote; it doesn’t take a lot of time to post every morning on Facebook and scan the News Feed for updates from friends. Blogging, on the other hand, takes a bit more thought and time. Not just the hour or two to write and edit my bi-weekly post, but to participate in the community. And I feel a blog IS a community of like-minded readers who like to talk about books, entertainment, and the writer’s life.

Six years ago, a five of us founded this blog. Jennifer, Karin and I are still here. Over time, some of our bloggers left, we brought more in, and a couple years back we were all overwhelmed and thinking of shutting down Murder She Writes. That’s when we shook things up and added more bloggers to free up our time to write and be with family. It was that or disband, and none of us truly wanted to shut down the blog.

Change can be a very good thing.

Six years ago, my first book was published by Ballantine. December 27th, 2005 THE PREY hit the shelves. My 17th Ballantine book, IF I SHOULD DIE, will be released on November 22. The book marks the last with that publisher, and I’m moving to Minotaur/St. Martin’s Press.

Change can be a very good thing, but it’s also scary.

I’ve been thinking a lot about how I wrote six years ago and how I write now. I’ve always been a fast writer, but I’ve slowed down over the last few books and I haven’t been able to pinpoint why. I still write fast, but I rewrite more. I used to write 4-6 hours a day; now I write 8-10 hours a day but end up with fewer net words when I shut off for the night. And often, I delete everything I wrote the day before.

Mariah Stewart once told me that not only does writing not get easier, but we are constantly striving to write a better book than the last, yet fear the last was the best we had to give.

She is a wise, wise woman.

Six years seems like a long time, but then I look at my seven year old son and realize that it’s not long at all. I was pregnant with Mark with I got the call in March of 2004 that Ballantine wanted to buy my book. He was 18 months old when THE PREY came out. I’ll never forget jumping up and down and crying when my editor overnighted the first finished copy of my first book.

And today, when the UPS driver walked down my driveway with a large box from Random House, I met him halfway. I didn’t jump up and down or cry–but my heart skipped a beat and I had to open the box and take out a copy of IF I SHOULD DIE.

Though this book is an ending with on publisher, I’ll be continuing the Lucy Kincaid series with my new publisher. I’m revising SILENCED now, which will be out on April 24, 2012. It’s slow going. I like where I’m taking the story in revisions, aided by fantastic editorial notes, but it’s not easy. I used to whip out extensive revisions in two weeks. I suspect these will take longer.

I used to think writing would get easier the more books I had under my belt. But Marti was right. Each book is harder than the last.

Last year, the girls and I had some big plans to celebrate Murder She Writes fifth anniversary, but we were all on tight deadlines … and it seems this year, nothing has changed.

But today, in celebration of getting my author copies and my revision notes, I’m giving away an EARLY COPY of IF I SHOULD DIE to one lucky commenter. Do you want it? If so, just comment — say hi, say congrats, say happy anniversary, or tell me what you’d like us gals at Murder She Writes to blog about this coming year. Anything we haven’t tackled? Anything you particularly liked and want more of? Just let us know.

I posted an exclusive excerpt here at Murder She Writes, just for you

Thank you for helping make the Murder She Writes community a great place to be — for our readers, and for all of us.

It’s no surprise to long-time MSW readers that I love television. I use TV as a reward. I get my work done, I can watch TV at night. (Late at night, usually after midnight.) I haven’t watched commercials outside of football or kids shows because I no longer watch television shows when they’re on. I don’t even DVR them (and even if I did, they’d be quickly erased because of all the shows my kids DVR.)

I spoil myself because television is a reward. I buy the shows I like through iTunes.

A series can cost anywhere from $5 to $40, depending on the popularity, the number of episodes, and whether there’s a promotion. Most series, however, are between $20-25, less than the cost of waiting for the series to come out on DVD three months after the season is over. At $25, that’s the price of one movie and popcorn for a couple, and to me worth the price because not only can I watch at my convenience, I can re-watch.

But because I pay for television, when most people watch for free, I tend to be a bit more critical than I used to. My time is valuable, but so are my limited television dollars. I’ve very much appreciated that television, like much of the entertainment business, is making necessary changes: they’re releasing new series mid-season so summer is not just reruns; they’re running edgy and experimental series with both stars and young up-and-comers; they’re taking changes and cable networks are competitive with network. In fact, almost all my favorite shows are on cable, with only a few exceptions.

Some shows have blown me away—not just in the quality of production, or the actors, but the storylines are head and shoulders above most everything that’s out there.

Two years ago, I “discovered” JUSTIFIED and have evangelized for this show ever since. This year, I found HAVEN, a brilliant supernatural drama loosely based on the Stephen King book THE COLORADO KID. But today, I want to talk about LUTHER.

First: no spoilers! I’m only halfway through the short season two. But already, I am mesmerized by the raw, brilliant storytelling made even better by the quality of both filming and acting. I love it.

LUTHER is a psychological crime drama produced by the BBC. It’s set in England, and for the first episode or two I had to get used to not only the accents, some of which are quite thick, but the different police procedures in that country. (And, to be honest, I don’t even know if they get them right, but there’s a feel of authenticity so I’m definitely willing to go along for the ride.)

From IMDb:

“Luther” follows the cases of a troubled yet brilliant English police detective, DCI John Luther (Idris Elba). Separated from his wife, whom he loves passionately, he is torn between an unrelenting approach to solving serial killings and his attempts to rekindle his marriage. Luther is a highly charged emotional man who is not above stretching the law to solve a case or save a life. In episode one, Alice Morgan (Ruth Wilson) proves she is equally brilliant by committing the perfect murder of her parents, which challenges Luther as never before. Alice develops a strange fascination for Luther and their continued exchanges and interplay serve as a backdrop for the rest of the season. Luther’s edgy police tactics make him a serious concern to his superiors, who feel that he is a threat to their reputations and that of the Police force. From the opening credits to the end of season one, “Luther” is a fast paced mystery presented with many plot twists and insights into the human psyche.

The scripts are tight, gritty, and multi-dimensional. The filming compliments the tone and feel of the show. A crime drama like CASTLE is lighter, with brighter colors and a deeper hue, but less contrast and artistic framing. LUTHER, which is a much darker show, is as overcast and gray as England’s reputation. There’re no bright colors, but the sharpness of the imagery even in the grayness adds depth and emotion. (I’m sure Toni, or resident photography expert, would be able to explain all this better than me.)

But to be honest, Idris Elba, the actor who portrays DCI John Luther, makes the show. Not only is he a physically imposing character compared to all the others around him, he is a flawed and tragic hero.

I’ve been thinking about this show a lot while teaching a class over at the Kiss of Death chapter this month. Participants have been asking a lot of questions about how to create flawed characters that readers will still like. Today, I pointed them all to John Luther.

In the first episode, he’s coming back to work after being on administrative leave while being investigated for the injuries a suspect sustained while Luther pursued him. The suspect, a child murderer, is a loathsome person. Did he, or did he not, wait a fraction too long in trying to save the killer from a fall? While the killer is on life support at the hospital, Luther is investigated. The day he returns, he’s called to investigate a double homicide, introducing him to Alice Morgan, one of the most complex and compelling psychopaths created in a long, long time. The intelligence of Hannibal Lecter without the crudity and rather disgusting habit of cannibalizing his friends.

Luther is far from perfect. But what draws me to his character is that he it’s his drive to do what is right for others that ultimately puts him into danger or forces him to choose between two morally or ethically reprehensible choices. Sometimes, there is no good answer, only a lesser evil.

Luther is a brilliant cop. Sherlock Holmes without the arrogance or drug habit. He doesn’t smooth things over or play nice just to get along, but he’s not deliberately or intentionally abrasive. He’s extremely loyal, and his loyalty is also his Achilles Heel.

For example, in the second season he’s guilted into helping an underage prostitute get out of a vile fantasy rape (where a pervert pays to rape her, but where often the prostitute is killed in the process.) Guilted because, while underage, she’s still 17 and as Luther said, she’s made her own choices. She chose to do drugs, to be a prostitute and to leave home. But, as her mother says, Luther drove her to drugs and prostitution because he arrested her father for “accidentally” killing a prostitute, and while in prison he killed himself. Luther goes to the location, talks to Jenny, she doesn’t want to leave, and he walks out. The agony of his decision is evident on his face you can almost hear his internalization.

It’s Jenny’s choice. No one is forcing her.

She’s too scared to leave. She’s going to be killed. She’s only 17.

In the end, he walks in and grabs her while she fights him.

That decision sets up a whole chain of events that are still playing out as I’m about to watch the third of four episodes.

Luther does many illegal things, always for the right reasons. His ethical dilemmas are complex and torture him. Luther is an amazing character, and while Idris Elba deserves much of the credit for his creation, the show itself is truly a well-done masterpiece blending the lead character with an equally talented supporting cast, and compelling, top-notch writing. Crime drama lovers, you won’t be disappointed. And writers? You’ll learn a lot.

It doesn’t get much better than LUTHER. I am hugely thrilled they have contracted for a third season. Two, four, six, ten episodes — I’ll take whatever they want to give me.

By Philip Hawley, Jr.

Before sharing a few reflections about my improbable literary journey, let me acknowledge that this is my first-ever blog post. I have refrained from blogging not because it’s time-consuming, not because it eats into writing time, not because I’m reclusive, but because I just don’t have much I want or need to say. Not having much to say is, I’ll admit, a seeming contradiction for someone who has written a novel, but it’s perfectly consistent with the idea that I’m an unlikely novelist.

My dear parents (and they are very dear) taught me to stand in the background when photographed, and to speak only after everyone else had their say. I took those lessons to heart, perhaps too well. At social gatherings, I’m the quiet and curious observer who stands a considerable distance from the party’s epicenter. The only people less chatty than me are the Mayan Indians I work with in the remote jungles of northern Guatemala.

In another era, those latter traits might have been considered “writerly,” but in this age of blogging, Twitter, Facebook fan pages, and LinkedIn—none of which I do—I’m the literary equivalent of an Amish farmer.

When I scribbled the first few pages of STIGMA, I had no idea I was starting to write a novel. Not an inkling. My novel’s improbable birth occurred during a family vacation, when I was jotting down some random musings to fill unused pockets of time. That in itself was unusual for me, because prior to that moment I had never revealed to myself or anyone else any inclination to write anything.

In fairness, I knew I had a dollop of writing talent, a God-given (read “unearned”) ability I had squandered during the first 50 years of my life. It was not a well-developed talent, mind you, just enough to fool college philosophy professors into believing that my hastily rendered term papers reflected an understanding of their course work. I had a knack for quickly stringing together sentences and throwing in an occasional (but often strained) metaphor that allowed smart people like my professors to see depth and nuance where none existed. It was a savant-type skill, and, as I later learned, one that is particularly well suited to writing fiction.

Ultimately, mine was and is a modest gift, nothing so profound that it gives rise to pride or vanity. And throughout the first half century of my life, I used my Lilliputian talent to dispatch the occasional writing tasks as quickly as possible, treating them as unpleasant penances. Ironically, up to that point in my life I had applied my writing skills to avoid the occasion of writing, in a manner similar to how I applied my Catholic faith and teachings to avoid the occasion of sin (though I was far more successful at the former than the latter).

But an odd thing happened when I began scribbling those random reflections—the ones I mentioned before wandering off topic and into my college years and sinful life. As I wrote and rewrote, my doodles slowly morphed into a short story, or what I initially thought was a short story. Bear in mind, I’d never in my life had an inclination to write fiction. This was all very peculiar, and I didn’t know what to make of it.

And as Alice in Wonderland would say, it got even curiouser. For reasons I still cannot fathom, after returning home from vacation I became obsessed with writing. It wasn’t the notion of being a writer that grabbed hold of me. I’m not one who feels that I was born to write, or that the world needs me to write—that should be obvious by now, right?

But write I did, and with the energy and delight of a toddler discovering for the first time how Gerber purees can be splashed and thrown to form all sorts of intriguing designs on nearby walls. My story probably resembled a splatter of mashed peas at that point, but I was blissfully unaware of its structural and narrative problems. I was having fun and that was all that mattered.

My naiveté not only sustained me through the highly suspect early drafts of my ill-defined composition, it prompted me to expand my ambitions. Weeks into my improbable journey, I was reading Robert Ludlum’s The Matarese Circle and I thought, “Hey, I can do this. I can write a thriller novel!” Looking back, this was my Mr. Magoo moment (for those old enough to remember the happily oblivious and near-blind cartoon character who was repeatedly saved by absurdly implausible events). Then and later, lady luck rescued me from my ignorance and nearsightedness. The nit-wittedness that allowed me to so grossly underestimate Mr. Ludlum’s accomplishment also protected me from giving up when a well-informed appraisal of the challenges ahead might have caused me to quit.

My nearsightedness revealed itself in many ways, and, curiously, most of its manifestations proved beneficial to my writing. For example, I discovered I’m the kind of writer who has no idea what’s going to happen next in my story. Even while writing the final chapters of STIGMA, only rarely was I able to see through the creative fog and glimpse into the next scene. Wondering what was going to happen next became an irresistible force that propelled my writing, and wanting to know how the story would end kept me in my seat.

What made my journey a bit unnerving were the nightmares.

Well, I suppose they weren’t nightmares in a literal sense, but they were deeply unsettling. These dreams comprised scenes from my story, but the actions and words were twisted and warped by Dean-Koontz-style effects. Now, let me be clear: my novel STIGMA has no paranormal or supernatural elements. The story portrays real people in the present day world. But several nights each week during the three-year period of my book’s creation, the scene I was writing by day morphed into a kaleidoscopic miasma at night.

I’d often wake from these dreams in the middle of the night, groggy and disquieted, but with a new insight into my story’s characters. Early on, I kept a pad and pencil on my bed stand to capture these ideas, but by the next morning my “epiphanies” invariably turned out to be gibberish. Not once did the dreams yield a coherent clue that I could use consciously in my writing, but as it turned out that wasn’t their purpose.

Clearly, my subconscious used dreams to work out the emotional elements of the story, albeit in a quirky, offbeat manner. The dreams wreaked havoc on my sleep, but they seemed a necessary element of my writing process.

An even more unexpected aspect of my novelistic journey was my transformation from a get-it-done-with-the-least-amount-of-effort sort of writer to an it’s-never-good-enough writer. By all accounts, Raymond Chandler was never satisfied with his manuscripts, and his editor had to rip each one from the writer’s hands to meet publishing deadlines. I became a poor imitation of Chandler and was obsessed with matters of style and expression. I couldn’t leave a sentence until it was just so. After completing a paragraph, I’d immediately rewrite it a dozen times and then tweak it again and again during each of 25 editing passes. I would agonize over an adjective, removing it, putting it back, removing it . . . on and on this would go through countless cycles of editing and polishing. The biblical Abraham probably had less doubt about sacrificing his son Isaac than I had about the placement of a comma.

This, of course, was not a healthy circumstance for a first-time novelist. I had given birth to, and unwittingly nurtured, an internal editor of Herculean muscularity. But happily, I didn’t know any better and welcomed his presence! (this must have annoyed him greatly)

Like many of you with fulltime non-writing jobs or young families to care for, my writing time was constrained. Despite those limitations, I wrote 5-6 hours every workday—that is, almost every waking minute that I was not at work. On weekends, I usually wrote at least 10 hours a day, and often more (it’s nice having grown children).

For all that effort, my daily word production was just 2-700 words. Not two hundred to seven hundred words; the lower end of my daily word count was two (as in, one plus one). Only when I was having an out-of-body writing experience did I reach 700 words in a single day.

Like many novelists, I started each day by editing the previous day’s work, which often meant changing the order of the two words I had produced the prior day. You’d think I’d grow weary of endlessly editing the same stretches of narrative. On the contrary, I was as happy as a pig rolling in . . . my words. I enjoyed every moment of the process. Except the nightmares.

With very few exceptions, I wrote seven days a week. At the end of three long years, when I finally wrote “THE END,” I was completely spent. I was the untrained, unfit marathon runner crawling across the finish line long after everyone else had gone home.

But it was a good feeling. I had written a novel.

Wow, let me say that again, louder . . . I had written a novel! My early scribbles had germinated in my subconscious and become a 500-page thriller with layers of intricate mystery elements and characters I had grown to love. Lest that last statement sound self-congratulatory, I don’t intend it as such. Using a God-given skill for which I can take no credit, I merely wrote down what seeped from my subconscious—and voilà, out came a book.

Well, perhaps I’ll take credit for bringing a mysterious energy to the task.

And putting up with the nightmares.

Mine was a most improbable journey: a baby doctor with no yearning to write, no goal, no writing experience, no writing group to focus his efforts, and a bad habit of inserting too many parenthetical asides into his writing. And contrary to all logic, the elixirs that sustained me during this journey were my wickedly sadistic internal editor, and my boundless naïveté.

Oh, and just in case you’re wondering, the dreams that I’d never had before writing STIGMA vanished as soon as I completed the book. My nights were once again peaceful and dreamless—that is, until a few weeks ago when I started doodling ideas for a new novel.

Uh Oh.

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And so, my question to you is: What event or endeavor in your life has brought about unexpected changes in your attitudes or behavior?

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SPECIAL OFFER! Several gifted authors, including MSW’s own Allison Brennan, contributed their time and talents to the fabulous anthology, ENTANGLED. And it is fabulous! As many of you already know, all royalties earned from the sale of ENTANGLED are being donated to the Breast Cancer Research Foundation, which funds clinical research projects around the world.

A friend of Allison’s has offered to make a matching donation to the Foundation. Starting today and continuing through October 20, all royalties earned from the sale of ENTANGLED will be matched. For the next 7 days, every donation will be doubled, so tell your friends to act now and buy this great anthology.

In addition, Phil Hawley will give a copy of STIGMA to anyone who purchases the anthology during this period. Just send him a message at Philip@philiphawley.com, specify whether you want your copy of STIGMA in Kindle or Nook format, and attach a copy of your purchase receipt for ENTANGLED.

For the price of a cup of coffee ($2.99), your get two great books and the Breast Cancer Research Foundation receives $4.10. I hope you’re tempted by this incredible deal—you should be!

Please support this wonderful cause!

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From Allison: Phil Hawley is an amazing author, and an even more amazing doctor. I read STIGMA in 2007 when it first came out and could not put it down. I remember standing in the airport in Sacramento eager–desperate–to read the final 30 pages, even though my luggage had already come off the conveyor belt. I’ve told people that if Phil was a girl, he’d have been marketed as romantic suspense and his hero and heroine would have gotten to have sex … I even know when and where … LOL.

Seriously, STIGMA is one of my favorite books of the decade, and I don’t say that lightly. I am beyond thrilled that he’s “doodling” a new book. I’ll be the first in line to buy a copy. And if you don’t believe me, here’s what others had to say about STIGMA:

Tess Gerritsen: “STIGMA pulses with tension and drama. Philip Hawley has written a top-notch thriller!”
John Lescroart: “STIGMA is a blast of a read from start to finish. Phil Hawley is the real deal and the thriller world has an authentic new voice.”
Ridley Pearson: “Philip Hawley delivers a rare combination of taut plotting and brilliant writing. Sit back and enjoy. Phil Hawley is for real.”
Jonathan Kellerman: “Action-packed . . . rich with authenticity. Philip Hawley tells a great story.”

Here’s the cover copy for STIGMA:

When science surrenders to man’s darkest impulses, who will protect the innocents?

In Los Angeles, a young Mayan boy with a blue-crescent-moon tattoo dies mysteriously. In Central America, a puzzling illness is spreading among Mayan tribal villages.

And soon, E.R. physician Luke McKenna will discover the link between these events and demons from his dark past. The secrets that haunt Luke are about to pull him and the woman he loves into a terrifying house of mirrors where nothing is as it first appears. Time is running out, and only by reawakening the ghost of Luke McKenna’s past can they discover the truth.

His enemies may also discover a truth: When threatened, Luke McKenna is a very dangerous man.

On Saturday I posted my involvement in the Banned Books Week Hop. You can read it here, and check out the prizes I’m offering! Remember, one entry a day!

Today, I wanted to talk about some of the most challenged books.

It’s important to understand that when we talk about “banned books” these aren’t books banned across the country by the government. Banned books are often challenged books that are banned in limited schools and public libraries because a vocal minority spoke up.

I believe in freedom of speech and these citizens deserve every right to stand up and denounce a book they don’t like and articulate why.

I believe in the rights of parents to approve what their child reads. No child should be reading material for school that their parents find offensive or antithetical to their religion or personal beliefs. In these rare instances, I believe the teacher should strive to offer an alternative, or dialogue with the parents to find out what the specific issue is. Parents have the right to ban certain books from the house, just like they can ban certain movies or video games.

However, no one person should have the right to deny everyone else the right to read a book. Not in a free society.

Banning books is not a liberal or conservative issue. It’s not a religious issue. People of all political and religious stripes seek to ban certain books. And I strongly believe that no one should be forced to read a book, as much as I believe they have the right to read any book.

This is not to say that age-inappropriate books should be placed in libraries, but I think our librarians are smarter than that. No one is seeking to put the Joy of Sex in elementary schools. The books that get challenged the most are classics, or books written for the children’s market. (This includes YA books.)

Other than the obvious, perennial “banned” books like To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain, and Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger, here are some of the most challenged books of the last decade:

•  The Harry Potter series by JK Rowling
• I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings by Maya Angelou
• Captain Underpants by Dav Pilkey
• Killing Mr. Griffen by Lois Duncan
• Bridge to Terabithia by Katherine Paterson
• Draw Me a Star by Eric Carle
• Junie B. Jones series by Barbara Park
• Goosebumps series by R.L. Stine
• A Wrinkle in Time by Madeline L’Engle

And here’s a neat little list from the ALA of the ten most challenged books in 2010:

And Tango Makes Three by Justin Richardson and Peter Parnell

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

Brave New World by Aldous Huxley

Crank by Ellen Hopkins

The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Lush by Natasha Friend

What My Mother Doesn’t Know by Sonya Sones

Nickel and Dimed by Barbara Ehrenreich

Revolutionary Voices by Amy Sonnie

Twilight (series) by Stephenie Meyer

Now, I’m preaching to the choir. So what I want from you is to talk about ANY book you’ve read that has impacted you in any way. It can be a book with a moral lesson that has stuck with you, or a laugh-out-loud feel good book, or a classic that you have never forgotten, or a non-fiction book that taught you something valuable. Share, because remember, everyone who posts this week is in a drawing for one of five great prizes, including an advance copy of my upcoming IF I SHOULD DIE.

And one more thing … the amazing and talented Mariah Stewart has a new book out this week in her Chesapeake Bay series. HOMETOWN GIRL is a must read. I pre-ordered my copy and it’s sitting on my desk waiting for me to finish writing my next book.

Check out this wonderful trailer for Mariah’s book.

I can not wait! And you don’t have to—you can go buy it now and read it before the end of the weekend! Here at Amazon or BN.com BN.com or wherever you like to buy your books.

And, I’m teaching a rare on-line class. I usually teach only one a year. This one is on romantic suspense for the Kiss of Death chapter. I don’t take remuneration for these type of classes, so all the money goes back to the chapter for their scholarship fund. The more people who take the class the greater chance more scholarships KOD can offer so members can go to the RWA conference! More information here, but if you’re interested don’t wait because it starts on Saturday!

P.S. — A special thanks to Rocki for posting my blog this morning! Some of you may have noticed we’ve had some technical issues. You’ll be happy to know we’re moving providers and getting all this fixed–hopefully it’ll be all done by the end of the weekend! Thanks so much for your patience

I’m thrilled to participate in Banned Books Week.

Murder She Writes had joined more than 250 blogs in the effort to raise awareness that books should not be banned. Scroll to the bottom for a list of ALL participating blogs … many of whom are giving away prizes!

I’m giving away prizes, too … click here for a list!

From Ray Bradbury and FAHRENHEIT-451 (one of my all-time favorite books):

“Somewhere the saving and putting away had to begin again and someone had to do the saving and the keeping, one way or another, in books, in records, in people’s heads, any way at all so long as it was safe, free from moths, silverfish, rust and dry-rot, and men with matches.”

I’ve always found it ironic that a book about the tragedy of book banning (through the total physical destruction of books-fire) has been banned by different people for different reasons.

Parents should be the arbitrars of what their children read. If I, as a mom, ban a book from my house, that is my right. (And I have. Some books are inappropriate for kids. Some books are inappropriate for me!)

But please, in a free society, no one has the right to ban a book for ALL.

Benjamin Franklin said, “Those who give up essential liberties in order to protect a little temporary safety, deserve neither liberty nor safety.”

The First Amendment, as is the entire Bill of Rights, is essential for our country to be free, and books are the permanent foundation of free speech. Our military men and women have fought and died for more than two hundred years to protect our freedoms–freedoms many of us don’t think about, or take for granted.

There are countries where people are killed or imprisoned because of what they say. There are countries where people are killed because of what religion they practice. There are countries where women have no rights, where women are punished when they are raped because, in the eyes of the government, their rape was their fault.

These are countries where government bans books and information.

Censorship is not a liberal or conservative issue. Banning books and ideas affects the left and the right equally.

But it all starts with banning one book.

Visit as many of these blogs as you can — many are giving away books and other prizes throughout the week!

Tell me: what’s your favorite banned book?

Follow me on Twitter @allison_brennan for tweets of favorite banned books all through the week.