And then there was one.

One book to rule them all.

One book that set the world on fire.

That ended all doubt of life in the stars.

That answered the reason for Death.

For Life.

One book that brought peace.

That fed the masses.

That brought balance to the world.

The universe.

That gave everyone a happy ending…and a pony.

That book came into being,

And life was good.

The End.

***

And then we wake up.

OK, that was a kind of harsh transition, but you get the gist.

No such book.

BUT!

There is a favorite book, or books. Or series. Or author. Or kind of book. Or genre of book. Or binding of book (I prefer a good trade sized paperback with big chunky lettering I’m not squinting at in bad light.).

There is this idea, and I have found myself floundering in the self-victimization that is purely in my own noggin, that there is a very, very favorite something——book, in this instance as this is a reading blog (go figure)—that is the pinnacle end-all, be-all of a reading experience.

And then I come to my senses—thank the Lord—and realize…

Why the heck-a-doo in all the pages in all the world would I ever want there to be one greatest book I will ever read?

Since once I have read it, it is all reading downhill from there.

Yes, it would be a pinnacle experience since it was a pinnacle book.

But one of the great things about mountain climbing is that when you reach the top, you have accomplished this incredible thing, had this amazing experience you can treasure for always…and there are still more wonderfully tall and challenging mountains to climb.

You aren’t left at sea level going, “Well, that happened. I guess I can only reclimb that mountain/reread that book again. Everything else is flat earth walking from here.”

*sigh*

No!

No, no no, no nono, nooooooooo.

There are so many favorite books out there still to be discovered.

Heck, still to be written!

Great authors to be born!!!

Oh my, so many existing and future possibilities for a truly glorious reading experience to be discovered.

And I love that feeling of a discovered new favorite book.

I start reading, and I am unsure yet gently hopeful. Like a kitten exploring out from underneath the shadow of a bed hiding spot in a new home. Little nose nosing the carpet, aware of every word, every sound and smell.

And then the lint is spotted. Or the new mouse toy. Or a cat fairy we can’t see. And the kitten is off! Bounding about, unaware of anything but the joyous thing in its sights and between its paws.

Because then I am off and reading—in the world, in the character, in the moment.

No longer on my couch, the bus, the park. I am swept away.

And then a couple chapters well and in, panting with glee at the new toy between my paws, I look up and acknowledge Yes! This is a new favorite book.

This is SO good.

And I bask at the numbers of pages and hopefully many hours of gleeful reading I get to romp about in as the pages fan through my fingers with a puff of wood pulp, ink and promise.

So, fear not, dear readers.

If you are currently plodding through the desert of no new favorite books. If your reading buffet of options taste like sand as it seems like every book you come across is lacking. Missing that thing, that spark. That kitten toy glee—

Know it is coming. There are many more favorite books out there.

There is hope!

You have not climbed your greatest mountain.

The clouds will part and you will find your next favorite book.

I know it.