A Little Book About Novels & Stories

Alie The invitation says Conversation on Story: Building Worlds for Real Life which is the kind of title that makes you feel smart while you drink tea out of a paper cup and pretend the folding chair isn’t a folding chair. The bookstore is small, all honeyed wood and lamps that try to be kind. Someone strung twinkle lights between nonfiction and essays, like stars got cozy in the ceiling.

It’s not a particularly good smell—no one would make a cologne out of it—but it eases my chest and makes me feel languid and weightless, like I’m floating in space. I’m hardly paying attention as Justus takes all the books out of the crate to get a hardback at the very bottom. I hadn’t noticed it earlier. It’s an old children’s book. Thumbelina. The fabric cover is threadbare in places, and the gold embossed lettering is tarnished. I remember the story vaguely from the early years at Moon Lake Academy. It’s a human fairy tale.

I said, grinning from teeth to teeth like a child. We walked into the library. It looked like it had been a while, since it was in use. We went through several sections which included, finance, self-improvement, ethics, business amongst all. I caught a glimpse of a book I had been wanting to read, “Atomic Habits” by James Clear. I picked it immediately, and started going through it. After a while, I noticed I wasn't hearing any sound from the cook. I looked around and found her wiping tears off her eyes with the hem of her apron.

There was something about it that made me want to record every detail. "What's your book about?" he asked suddenly, without taking his eyes off the screen. I looked down at the book in my hands. "It's about a woman's journey to find herself." He stopped typing and turned his head. "Sounds interesting." I smiled faintly. “Interesting. Not because the story is extraordinary, but because the small details feel close. Everyday things that turn out to have meaning.” He stared at me for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “I see what you mean.”

"Word of advice? The good stuff isn't kept with the dusty old books." Before I could ask what she meant, she was gone. Disappeared into the shadows like she'd never been there at all. Who the hell was that? I shook my head and went back to searching. I didn't have time for mysterious women with probably glowing tattoos. Hours passed. My eyes burned from reading by candlelight, but I kept going. Most of the books were about pack laws and territory disputes. Nothing helpful. But then my fingers found something different. A thin book wedged between two larger ones.

“Now, about this climbing bookcases business…” ____________________

Her wanderings led her to a momentary pause, her gaze fixated on a room visible through the translucent Thai glass. Intrigued by the mysterious room, Hazel gingerly turned the knob and stepped into what appeared to be a sanctuary of knowledge, lined with towering bookshelves. The air inside was laced with the scent of aged paper. What is it? Is he really fond of books? Her fingers traced the spines of the books. Unable to resist the allure, Hazel reached for a book titled "Little Women." Leaning against its edge, she resisted the urge to sit and instead propped herself up, opening the book to its first page.

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this book is on a temporary Hiatus. I will be back to it as soon as I am able, but I hit some writer's block on it and I have my other ongoing books as well as a new, short project and a new contest book in the works. so while, I am puttingit on a brief Hiatus, it will not be left hanging for too long. I have a chapter half written and then my brain just got stuck on how I am approaching the next part.

I finished recounting my little evolution so far. ************* Note: Don't forget to like, comment and share the book! This really helps it grow on the platform