If a Louis L’Amour novel were a pair of boots, they would be cowboy boots, of course. Well worn but finely crafted out of brown cowhide. A medium heel, a bit worn but with many miles left of serviceable wear. Hitting between mid-calf and the knee, their stitching is subtle, blending into the dust-coated surface.
They live on the cowboy's feet, with an occasional rest, though remaining upright and alert, next to a simple wrought iron bed. More often than not, they lay in a heap next to an unfurled bedroll. Lit by the flickering light of a fading campfire, they will eventually be upended in case a wayward scorpion or snake has found sanctuary from the cold desert night.
If an Edward Abby novel were a bit of nature, it would be a swift-flowing stream, high in the mountains. Grey blue as it tumbled over water-worn rocks, deepening to jade green when trapped in pools behind massive granite boulders.
Breaking free, it would hurl itself over a precipice with wild abandon, a mist of lingering droplets catching rainbows of sunlight before rejoining the torrent at the base of a cliff. There, in a slick tumble of stone, a flower clings, roots tenacious, petals small and yellow. Delicate beauty birthed into a wild, wild world.
If a Barbara Kingsolver novel were a bolt of fabric, it would be a densely woven plaid. Not scratchy wool but of the softest organic cotton, heavy and warm. It would be moss green with strands of mauve, coral, mustard, and bluebird blue, with the yummiest chocolate brown thrown in for good measure.
It would be carefully cut and sewn into a hooded cape, like one an elf would wear - hood deep and wide to shadow the face, hem hitting just above the knee for an elegant swoosh when entering and leaving a room. To keep it secure, a wooden button, carved into the shape of a fox, would slip through a slot embroidered with brown silk.
As I write this, I wonder if anyone else personifies books this way. Do you ever clutch a good book to your chest in adoration? Shed tears as you turn that last page and start all over again as soon as you blow your nose? Perhaps you turn down an evening out with friends because you would rather curl up with a newly purchased best-seller. At any rate, a good author can change your life, expand your horizons, inspire, admonish, entertain, soothe, and educate. If you haven't read a good book in a while, let me know, and I will send you one of my favorites. (:
As a recipient of your many books I am grateful.
I'm always reading! ❤