My Book Has A Very Simple Surface,

My Book Has A Very Simple Surface, But There Are Layers Of Irony And Paradox All The Way Through It.

People Think That Alien Spaceships Would Be Solid And Made Of Metal And Have Lights All Over Them And Move Slowly Through The Sky Because That Is How We Would Build A Spaceship If We Were Able To Build One That Big. But Aliens, If They Exist, Would Probably Be Very Different From Us. They Might Look Like Big Slugs, Or Be Flat Like Reflections. Or They Might Be Bigger Than Planets. Or They Might Not Have Bodies At All. They Might Just Be Information, Like In A Computer. And Their Spaceships Might Look Like Clouds, Or Be Made Up Of Unconnected Objects Like Dust Or Leaves.

Usually People Look At You When They're Talking To You. I Know That They're Working Out What I'm Thinking, But I Can't Tell What They're Thinking. It Is Like Being In A Room With A One-way Mirror In A Spy Film.

Mother Used To Say It Meant Christopher Was A Nice Name Because It Was A Story About Being Kind And Helpful, But I Do Not Want My Name To Mean A Story About Being Kind And Helpful. I Want My Name To Mean Me.

From A Good Book, I Want To Be Taken To The Very Edge. I Want A Glimpse Into That Outer Darkness.