So what is YOUR book. Or trilogy or series? Everyone has one. Well, the best people do. I started thinking about mine last night when I showed a teenaged boy I hold dear to my heart*my* book.
For a lot of folks I know it was Tolkein. For a lot of other folks I know it was Harry Potter.
I know some kids for whom The Hunger Games trilogy is theirs.
Mine? Well I guess I have two. And if you laugh I swear I’ll …hex you or something.
First it was The Dragonriders of Pern. I wanted a dragon so much I could taste the sky and the companionship and the safety.
except of course the Dragons always kind of look look cats in my head
And then the series that 
meant so much to me that sometimes I just walk by and touch the books. Like stroking the temple of that poor messed up kid I was.
And started my lifelong need to read every talking or telepathic cat book out there.
I bought them all with my own money. I wore out one entire set. I read them and cried and red them again. And then again. When I see those books, I see me—hiding away from everything scary, every bully and bad thing, and finding a world where I belonged.
Because yeah. I wish I could really talk to them and I always will.
And because books? Saved me then, now and always will. There is nothing better than reading except maybe a day off family snuggle. With a few telepathic cats of our own.
