However, books in themselves have inspired me. When I was young, I had a book that I loved - although I sadly can't remember the title or the author. But, for the purposes of this post, it doesn't matter.
You see, I only read the book once or twice. What I really loved about the book was the pure white pages, slightly thicker and smoother than the paper in other books I had at the time. I'd hold that book, feel the weight of it, flip through the pages, and I imagine my own words between the hardback, fabric cover. Just the feel of something so beautiful made me want to write, and not just write... it made me want to write something worthwhile, something mind-blowingly brilliant. Not just any story would be printed on these pages. They were reserved for something special.
I'm not sure I've written anything worthy, yet. But in the back of my mind, those pages of that book keeps me striving to be better.