If I had a choice. I'd pick a book without a voice. A book of comfort, who, lay open bare. Wet pages, I'd skim, decipher and fill in Its own blank pages. All the while, ripping out my own spine, to seal a crooked title on an unpainted canvas.
And now.
If I had a choice I'd pick a book that had a voice that kept me reading, even after the first chapter. No more *******, happily ever afters. There would be sequels, and short conclusions. To a tale that is never-ending, Because they were brave enough, to fill their pages.