On his blog today, Nathan Bransford asked: “Which book would you want to be in?” One of his suggestions, HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE TO THE GALAXY, is one of my long-time favorites. I read it almost every year, starting on Towel day. (This year I was busy studying, but it’s back in my TBR pile.)
But to be IN that book? Oh please, no. While I have entertained the idea of learning to fly by throwing myself at the ground and missing, I have yet to actually try it. I’m a bit too opposed to pain. Besides, what the character goes through in this five-book trilogy (yes, trilogy – don’t ask) are things I’d rather not experience. Who in their right mind would want to be stranded on a planet full of marketing reps and phone sanitizers?
In all fairness, that part wasn’t in HITCHHIKER’S GUIDE, but rather in one of the books further down the series. Still, Dear Readers, Arthur was not having a good day from the moment he rolled out of bed and had to throw himself in the mud to keep his house from being knocked down by a big, bad bulldozer.
In all honesty, I loved those books. The current copy has an embossed cover and gilded pages. It looks nicer than most people’s family bibles.
So which book would I like to be in?
This is going to sound pretentious, but I would want to be in my own book. Why else write, but to submerge yourself in your own imagination? When I write, I share my private little world with you, the reader. When I write, I dictate the voices in my head that make me wear that strange little smile that makes you ask what I’m up to. When I write – even the stuff that makes my characters hate me – I’m happy.
Of course, that’s where I’d want to be.