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.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 14:37, 8 replies)

I have no idea what mind-altering sustance/s you are currently imbibing
But do you have any to sell?

*clicks*
(Captain Placid 24/7 ball gags, brownie mix and clown porn, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 14:40, closed)

I cannot do that.
The book would not like it.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 14:41, closed)

Splendid work.

( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 14:46, closed)

Wonderful stuff.
This should win.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, 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.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 5 Jan 2012, 21:08, closed)

This
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.
( .Yeti. El amor en los tiempos del cólera, Thu 5 Jan 2012, 21:19, closed)

Neil Gaiman and Jasper Fforde
I do believe you've got a serious competitor.

^
(all my scars face forward possesses 2.5% of a hyperalloy combat chassis, Fri 6 Jan 2012, 9:26, closed)

fuck the Kindle, I want one of these!

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