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This is a question Books

We love books. Tell us about your favourite books and authors, and why they are so good. And while you're at it - having dined out for years on the time I threw Dan Brown out of a train window - tell us who to avoid.

(, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 13:40)
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I have a book at home.
Its spine is straight and steadfast, and its words are gilt. Many times the voices of its characters have sung to me from the smudgy half-sunlight of a hungover morning, telling me of diabetic princesses, rich and gravy-laden chieftains and the fact that I am about to miss the 07:28 to London Bridge.

It squeezes its Falstaffian calfskinned bulk into a gap on my bookshelf that is always curiously warm, even when the Daily Mail is mentioned within earshot. It likes milk of magnesia, essential oil of sandalwood and the string quartets of David Blunkett, but spurns the company of Wisden, silicone-based lubricant and ferrets. When I dine alone, the two calligraphed globes on its cover spin in the cosmic winds to the rhythm of Daft Punk; when in company, the dust of its pages blows as a monsoon over the neighbours so that their ears can no longer even tell them who wants to be a millionaire.

This book has saved my life: when stationed in El Alamein I took a stray bullet to the crotch from a passing regiment of the Afrika Korps, but at that very moment the book was pouring out the wealth of its knowledge to massage and soothe my blistered testicles, and the bullet melted upon contact and dripped onto the sand, setting in the form of a tiny Paschal Lamb. The enemy snatched me up and roasted me for my name and number, but the book told them nothing, for its pages are Plasticine.

When I am hungry, my book holds the recipe for the finest turnip martini known to man. When the wind howls and I tear at my Wallace and Gromit nightshirt from lack of sleep, the book breaks forth into throat-song and lulls my aching limbs to rest. That famous night when I was almost burgled, I awoke to find the finest red trace along the book’s pages, and an undigested sock.

I have not yet read the book. We are waiting until I have made it an honest book, with a ring on its binder.
(, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 14:37, closed)
I have no idea what mind-altering sustance/s you are currently imbibing
But do you have any to sell?

(, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 14:40, closed)
I cannot do that.
The book would not like it.
(, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 14:41, closed)
Splendid work.

(, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 14:46, closed)
Wonderful stuff.
This should win.
(, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 19:44, closed)
A finer work of prose I have yet to see this week, sir...

If you wrote a book I would definitely read it.

I wouldn't understand a single fucking word, of course, but I'd still give it a good go.
(, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 21:08, closed)
is the motivation I need to quit my day job and get the fuck on with it.

There is a book simmering inside me, somewhere. I just need to take the instant noodles off the boil and put the right saucepan on the heat. Finally.
(, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 21:19, closed)
Neil Gaiman and Jasper Fforde
I do believe you've got a serious competitor.

(, Fri 6 Jan 2012, 9:26, closed)
fuck the Kindle, I want one of these!

(, Sat 7 Jan 2012, 15:35, closed)

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