These books have become so predictable lately, covers no different than the last. Always a portrait of a person in battle or on a perilous quest. It's not that these were terrible stories, I just wish that they varied. At least the ones that focused on the quests were more interesting to me. Some of them seemed poorly written. There was no life to the characters, just flat and stale. They just didn't seem like actual people. I wish for once there was one character I could relate to. "Do you want it? If not I'll just keep it on the coffee table. 

"I want it." I said quickly. "It's still something to read. Even if it isn't my favorite genre." "So, you're thinking of writing about genres that aren't allowed by the association. Don't get yourself into trouble." He wagged his finger at me as if I was a child that needed to be scolded. I was annoyed by the gestures he sometimes used on me. I know he was worried about me, it just gets on my nerves sometimes. Maybe it was childish to think the world could change after all these years. The association was said to be backed by the god who gave us knowledge." He gave us the treasure of knowing the universe and the many other worlds that existed in it. The precious orb that was said to show the feats of the universe. It was hard to believe such a thing existed. Like an inanimate object could decide what stories were important to tell. 

"I just hate that all the stories are about war and gore. That's all. I know the law. Don't worry I won't get myself into trouble." "Only let me read your stories. Don't think of showing them to anyone else. They could turn you in. You're allowed to write but you must keep it to yourself. Technically, you're already breaking the law." I felt my pulse quicken at the realization of this. I wouldn't fair well in prison. Luckily, my dear friend wouldn't tell a soul.