A book's life

"Do you ever wish your life were more like a book?" John asked. He had been sitting in his chair, looking out the window, not saying much for a while as his brother worked on cooking dinner. The question came very abruptly, catching James off guard.

James looked over from the food, but John wasn't looking at him, instead continuing to stare out the window. "What brings about a question like that?" he asked his brother. "I'm sure it's a thing that most people wish for, especially when they're in the middle of a good one. You got a suggestion for what I should read next?"

John shook his head. "No, I was just thinking about it," he explained. "You read stories, and the guy always gets the girl, and he never loses a fight, and he's capable of so many things. It makes you jealous, you know? I wish I could do stuff like that."

James chuckled and shook his head, turning back to the food. "You've been reading the wrong books if those are the only things that ever happen in them," he replied. "There are all kinds of books out there about the guy failing over and over. All kinds of stories in which things don't go the way you expect them to."

"I don't read those kinds of stories for a reason, dude. I want to read a story so I can escape my life. Why would I read something that's exactly the kind of life that I'm already reading?"

"So you're saying that if you were more successful in life, you would stop reading these kinds of stories? You would be more inclined to read the stories about people who weren't as successful?"

John stopped and thought about that for a while. As he thought, there was no sound but that of James' cooking, sizzling meat and vegetables, and the quick and methodic chopping that came with preparation. As those sounds died down, with James getting close to finishing cooking, John spoke up once again.

"No," he said hesitantly. "If I were successful, I would want to read about people even more successful than me."

"Oh?" James asked. "And why is that?"

"Because that way I would have something even higher to look towards as inspiration and to shoot for."

"You know, bro," James said as he started to set the table, "every once in a while you say an actual smart thing."

"Was that one of them?"

James chuckled. "Yes, John. Yes it was. Immediately followed by something stupid, as per usual."

John frowned at his brother. "That's not a very nice thing to say about someone, you know," he complained.

James smiled and set out the food. "Maybe next time you should try actually helping with the cooking, then."

"You know I don't know how to cook."

"Yes, but someone in this house does, and he can teach you. Now quit while you're ahead and come eat."