I am writing to ask if you have seen the girl I love. She left home years ago. She left her sanity here and I am sure she is missing it. She sometimes wears a funny hat. She has sad hazel eyes. Her smile is a(more) frown. Her tears are heavy. Her hair is short and messy. She sings off key all her beautifully depressing lyrics while playing a guitar too big for her frame in coffee houses around Nevada City. Please, tell her I love her. Please, tell her to come home. I'll keep her sanity safe until she returns.
I'd like you to open the pages of these books with passion and imagination; I want you to drown in the seas my characters drown in, feel the panic, the adrenalin, and let these words quicken your heart rate and take you through a spiraling journey al(more)l while sitting in your favorite sofa. I want you to cry with the characters at their worst heartbreaks, smile with them when they find love, and fall in love with their best friends.
But most of all, I want you to take this opportunity to discover your own world beneath my words. Create an escape in my utopia, or dystopia. Because all I can do is write the words on paper. It's you who must delve into it's depths, question perfect characters or acknowledge the least recognized. It's you who brings my story to life.
Hats off to you, my dear reader.
Now flip the page, begin your journey. I promise you won't regret it. (less)
The pages of the aging book felt thick under my fingers as I turned them over, eagerly absorbing the words that had been written over a hundred years ago. The smell that you can't easily get anywhere else - that old book smell - wafted up to me as(more) I read.
Then I reached the end. There was a letter from the author to the reader.
The hardest part of writing something is the necessity of bringing it to a close. Just as much as you, I do not want the lives of the characters to cease; I do not wish to bring them to such a sudden stop, that we know nothing else of who they are and who they are to become.
Nevertheless, it is a necessity. All lives draw to a close - even those of the people on these pages. In parting, therefore, I wish to say that although you cannot see them, their lives do go on. They live outside of our realm, in a different place where they are so real. A place that we can only travel to in our minds, as we read the stories.
May your travels be bright, and may you always have a new book to read.
The author's signature followed this note at the end. Carefully I closed the book and replaced it on the shelf from which I had plucked it a few hours ago, and I sank back thoughtfully into my chair.(less)