Today I'm grateful
for my favorite book.

The only man I will ever love is Mr. Darcy. I’ve re-read Pride and Prejudice so many times, my copy is matted like a well-loved teddy bear. It’s swollen to twice its normal size from many hours spent over a steamy bath, the dog-eared pages have dog ears of their own. The spine is cracked and peeling so you can’t read the title and the pages fall out like subscription cards from magazines. Somewhere in Winchester Cathedral, Jane Austen is rolling over in her grave.

To plagiarize the first line of her book "It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single girl in possession of a ratty copy of P&P, must be in want of a new one." So I grabbed a fresh copy and headed for the Barnes and Nobel register then…I realized something was off. It seemed lighter, not as many pages. The thought that I could’ve picked up an abridged version struck me with horror, what could be worse? Little did I know, it would get a lot worse. Eyeing the cover, I gasped out loud – I held a copy of Pride and Prejudice and Zombies.

Some blasphemer has taken my favorite book and added elements of modern zombie fiction. The author says “You have this fiercely independent heroine, you have this dashing heroic gentleman, and people are always walking here and there and taking carriage rides here and there. It was just ripe for gore and senseless violence.”

After my blood stopped boiling I realized, that maybe this was good thing. I’m grateful my favorite book can give a new generation of readers pleasure, and if it takes the un-dead and ninjas to introduce teenagers to Elizabeth Bennet, then that’s a good thing. To encourage reading, schools need to get creative. I would’ve paid a heck of a lot more attention if we were studying The Constitution and Brain-Sucking-Aliens from Hell or Calculus and Vampire Zombie Pirates. I don’t think Ms. Austen is rolling over in her grave, I think she’s getting a kick out of this because she enjoyed satirizing her aristocratic society, where the wealthy were, and still are, mostly blood-sucking monsters.

That’s why I’m grateful for my favorite book.




Forget about rainbows and unicorns, I’m grateful for double martinis, single men and pretty much anything covered in chocolate or cheese. This gratitude journal is anonymous because the stuff that tends to fall out of my head and land on the page makes HR departments cringe -- and guys lose my number.
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