Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

You're a Book,The Forgotten Tome

The logic is beyond me, for years I was read daily, my pages turned over and over again and now I sit on the shelf. Why have I not felt the touch of warm human hands in literally dozens of years? I am still the heartfelt tale of overcoming trouble I have always been. Oh, I know some claim my ending is predictable and that my antagonist is more molehill than mountain but am I not still an endearing story of mind over matter. I remember my reader's eyes growing large while their pulse raced with worry about the plight of my hero. I was a book that could not be put down, now I am a book that is not picked up.

I sit here day after day, year after year wondering what I did wrong. Did I upset someone, or maybe someone misread me and then slandered me in a vile review. My pages are turning yellow and my spine creaks but I still have my story and therefore I still have value, all I need is someone to read me. I have not given up hope, I will never do that, I know some day a human will pick me up to enjoy my tale as it unfold before them.

Oh, joy, Oh joy, my wait is over I feel a hand pulling me off the shelf. I hear a man talking I listen closely,
"Here it is my son the book I told you about, my dad read it to me every day and I thought I could never get enough. Let me read it to you it is called 'The Little Engine That could."

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