“It’s just words on paper.”
“What’s the point of reading when there are movies?”
“Reading is overrated.”
“Books give you unrealistic expectations.”
Many people have told me these phrases when I sit down to read, wishing only to escape reality briefly. I keep my mouth shut, wanting to tell them just how wrong they truly are.
I always thought reading was the biggest waste of my time because who wanted to read when the world was right outside their door? It got so bad that my mom put paper clips in my book to give me a goal to work toward every day. Then middle school happened. Walking into the library for my English class, rolling my eyes and complaining to my friends that there’s no way I will find something that keeps my interest. Until I found “A Curse So Dark and Lonely” by Brigid Kemmerer, it felt like the cover called to me when I picked it up, waiting for me to pick it up and open the world within. I shrugged my shoulders and decided that I should try it. Because there’s absolutely no way I would finish it.
Now, five years and over 100 books later, I can’t go a few days without wanting to read a book. Reading became an escape for me; it allowed me to leave reality, put myself in someone else’s shoes and see the world through their eyes and mind. As soon as I get home from school, I disregard the homework I know I have and pick up my book, with the characters still frozen in time, and join them yet again to continue the story. When I first start a book, there is no guarantee that I will like it, but once I get into it, there’s no stopping me. I tune out the world around me and picture the words in my head like a movie. When I start a series, I know that I will be heartbroken when it ends, but clearly that never stopped me before. When I finish a series, it feels like I’m leaving a home that I got used to and friends that will forever be frozen in time until I pick up the book again, missing the experience of that book.
No matter how many books I read, I’ll never forget about “A Court of Thorns and Roses” by Sarah J. Maas, “Throne of Glass” by Sarah J. Maas, “Powerless” by Lauren Roberts, “Fourth Wing” by Rebecca Yarros and “Shatter Me” by Tahereh Mafi. These books made me cherish the fact that I love reading. Nothing will top these books on my list, they are very well written and helped me escape reality when I needed it the most. The authors did an amazing job at making the characters relatable and someone that you could imagine being friends with in real life.
I absolutely love having friends who relate to my love of reading, along with being someone to debrief with when we read the same book. One of the best feelings about this is when one out of the three is not finished with the book and everyone else is dying to talk about it together, but they keep hinting at something terrible that’s only a few pages away. So it must be enjoyable for them to stress me out just to make me read faster. It’s okay, though, I do the same thing. Nothing like having friends lie to your face in a sweet and innocent tone saying, “No, he doesn’t die.” “It’s such a good ending.” “You’re going to love that part.” All were lies, I just didn’t know it until it was too late.
Readers have a certain type of mind that only they can understand. There’s no way to explain how I escape reality without sounding like I should be in a padded room, but it’s an experience that I will always remember no matter how old I get. When I open a book back up after years, I can still remember the feelings I felt when I first finished it, and can’t wait to go back. It’s like rewatching a movie that you love, there’s no difference. Now it’s time to finish my book and ignore reality once more, because why not? I totally don’t have anything important I could be doing instead.
