If you imagine yourself as a book as I have, perhaps a book would say things like the following:
“Fact or fiction, I can’t tell the difference, I just am.”
“I am better than a boyfriend, husband, girlfriend or wife, because when they are not there for you, I am.”
“You see me in a bookstore all bright, clean, spine straight, but you should see what happens to me in a warehouse. The horror! Speaking of bookstores, I love having people pick me off the shelve, put there nose in my creases, and take a deep sniff. Intimacy between book and reader is good. And I don’t mind being on a bargain table as long as someone buys me and gives me a good home.”
“I am like a car. I can take you on whatever adventure you want to go, you just have to find the model that suits you.”
“I hate it when they ban books. What did I do?
“For all you tree huggers who like to read, how do you reconcile saving tress with me? I came from a tree you know. When you save a tree, you kill a book.”
“Be careful how you flex me, a damaged spine causes me anguish and I have no medical. And be careful not to leave me where a dog and grab me with his teeth. That’s a pain you don’t want.”
“I don’t mind you taking me into the bathroom to read, just as long as you don’t leave me in there when you are done. It really is unpleasant. But I do love it when you take me to bed, but make it worth my while and read a few chapters. Being read, then bookmarked and put down, open and close, open and close, open and close; readus interuptus kills the mood. And if you do read me in bed and like to snack, remember to watch those crumbs. I hate it when they get in my creases. Remember to floss me.”
These are things my books have actually said over time. What do your books say?