My Two Favorite Books
I have two books that sit on my desk at all times. They must be there. It’s required. In fact, we take roll call every morning to make sure no one is missing.
As a writer, you tend to gravitate to things that inspire you, that help you become a better writer. And these two books have certainly inspired many dreary words. They spice up sad paragraphs; add pizzazz to sarcastic sentences.
They settle disputes, offer solutions to sticky situations and divvy out advice when absolutely necessary.
If one of them doesn’t have the answer, the other one most likely does.
They’re heavy, full of enriching information. They’re worn, loved and cherished.
Each book has its differences though.
One leans more towards descriptions and histories and origins. The other relies upon scrutinized regularity.
They often fight over who gets more attention. Jealousy and silly remarks slip out when I choose one over the other. They snap shut when they’re mad and sharpen their razor thin edges when they’re enraged.
Both have reddish tones flowing on their front covers but they often ooze green envy and resentment from beneath their protective layers.
But, nonetheless, they are my two favorite books and our struggling love triangle sets to work on the daily task of writing.
They are my two favorite books. My best friends and my worst friends, all rolled up into two, very simple stacks of published paper.
Can anyone name my two favorite books?