There I was sitting on my bed surrounded by a circle of books in the deadly silence of the night. The book in my hand was, How to Write a How-to Book. I had been sitting there staring at this book for hours. My editor gave me, what I thought to be the simple task, write a “how-to” book. I sat down thinking this would be easy and I could finish in a few hours but the longer I sat there, the less I knew what to write.
It was nearly 3:00 AM and I was no closer to writing this book than I was 8 hours ago. My eyes were heavy, my head was drooping and I was about to make this useless book my pillow. Then suddenly, a jolt of fear rushed through my body when I heard the soft creaking of the stairs leading up to my bedroom.
My first thought was to run into the bathroom and lock the door, that probably would have been the smart thing to do, but I didn’t. Instead, I closed the book, got up and quickly tiptoed over to the door. As I stood beside the door, I watched the doorknob turning so slowly that I almost couldn’t see it moving. The door open and a tall figure stepped into my bedroom. Before I knew it, I had sprung into action. The figure was on the floor and I was beating it over the head with the book.
As the figure screamed and told me to stop, I recognized the voice, it was my older brother. I jumped up and turned on the overhead light, I scolded him for sneaking into my house but then I thanked him for giving me an idea for my book: How to Make a Useless Book Useful.