“Good morning,” my book said to me.
“Good morning,” I answered.
“Can you believe it’s November 7th already?” my book asked.
“No,” I said. Actually, I could believe it. Because it was.
“I didn’t mean that literally,” said the book. “I was just making small talk.”
“I knew,” I said, knowingly. “You have something important to say don’t you?” I asked.
“Yes,” said the book.
“You seem different,” I segued.
“I am,” it said. “When I think back to what I was, even just a few days ago it’s…well, it’s a little embarrassing. I was so young then. So immature. So full of myself.”
“If it’s any consolation,” I said to the book, “I was kind of a jerk when I was younger, too. Full of myself. I think everyone goes through it.”
“Well, I’m glad I’m through that part of growing up, although there's probably more stupidity to come,” said the book. “What is that thing you've said to your kids: 'If you don't look back on your life and think that some of what you did was stupid, then you haven't learned anything.' Is that it?"
"It is," I said. I probably had a blog post somewhere that I could link to later. And if I didn't I could write one. I made a mental note to link or write later.
"Well," the book continued, "the good news is: I know some things about myself that I didn’t know before. I almost certainly have more to learn, but today was a big step forward. I feel as though I’ve got a new sense of direction.”
“OK,” I said, "tell me."
“It’s what you wrote—or what we wrote this morning." I'd written a lot this morning but hadn't had a chance to transcribe, edit, or post it. I made a mental note to do that, and link to it after I did. "I’m starting to see how I develop and how I can be useful, not just to you, but to other people.
"I don’t just want to be a book that you, my author, can use to help yourself. I’d also like to be a book that other people can read and use to help themselves.
"That's going to take some work," the book said. "I can’t just be what I want to be by saying I am the way I want to be.”
“You mean like what you wrote the other day,” I asked. When you said this:”
Cogito ergo sum. I think, therefore I am. You’ve heard that before, right?Well here’s my take: I think I am an awesome book, therefore, I am an awesome book. That may not convince you, but it’s a place for us to start. Am I an awesome book to you? I might be. But only if I can get you to read me.
“Oh, my!” said the book. “It’s hard to believe that I actually said that! I was so naive. I do want to be an awesome book, but I can't be one just by thinking that I am one. Or telling everyone that I am one. I've actually got to embody awesomeness or some kind. And that's going to take work.”
I smiled. “It looks like you’ve come a long way,” I said. “Maybe I should post what we wrote this morning.”
“Sure,” said the book. “Maybe that will help. But how about posting this first.”
"Sure," I said.
“Speaking of new direction, do you realize that anyone who reads me on this blog reads me backward?” Asked the book.
“I hadn’t thought about that,” I said, “maybe there’s something I can do about it.”
“Not right now,” said the book. “First things, first. Post this."
I did. And then later edited it.
"That's an improvement," said the book.
No comments:
Post a Comment