It’s not a real book, so I can’t recommend it to any of you.
The co-authors are relatively unknown.
But it’s a “book” that took years to write.
It’s still in progress, the last update leads me to believe.
It’s one of those rare and beautiful things that makes you smile before you even realize you’re elated. You only notice when your cheeks start to grow sore.
Indeed, it’s most certainly a feel-good read. But it’s everything more.
Whilst reading I embarked on a tour of human emotion: I felt pain, aching, longing. I laughed. And laughed more. I felt humility and humiliation. Shame and security. I felt remorse, but I felt hope and hope and hope.
I was warm at every turn.
I could smell tiny rosebuds, faint in color and scent, and that sent was love, as yet unblossomed.
I hope all of you will find a “book” - a something or anything - that can bring you all these gifts in excess.
Everyone deserves one. Everyone can find one. Maybe you’ll first have to build a bookcase deserving of such a treasure. You’ll get there, and you’ll do it. Because once you know the time is drawing nigh for the point at which the book’s prologue will end, and chapter one will finally…finally…begin, you’ll want everything to be just right. Because your book deserves the best, too.