“Some books are so familiar that reading them is like being home again.” — Louisa May Alcott
My mom said I started reading books by the end of kindergarten. Every summer, she would sign me up for the library’s summer reading program where I could read books and win prizes in reward for reading. My problem wasn’t that I did not have enough books to fill up the weekly prize, but that I had TOO many books to choose from. I would get in trouble because I wouldn’t put down my book to eat dinner, practice dinner, or go to bed. I gave myself headaches from constantly reading in the 5 minute car ride going home from the library.
High school rolled around and it wasn’t that I outgrew the library, but school took way more of my time than it had ever before and I discovered this thing called the internet. It wasn’t that I didn’t read anymore books, but my reading consumption had shifted to reading other works. I still read the obligatory novels for English class, and chanced into the world of classics and must-reads.
This summer I’ve re-discovered the joy of picking up a physical book and reading into the night, cover to cover. My beloved fantasy books, coming-of-age warrior princesses and awkward teenagers figuring out what growing up is all about, and new ventures into works of fictions so moving that they bring me to tears. There are also the books I don’t want to end and the wierd I-have-any-feelings-about-you-book.
Belle will always be my favorite Disney princess because she gets it. Books bring joy and the greatest adventures around first found in a great book. They challenge you to find your own adventures and are the substance for dreams.
“You will learn most things by looking, but reading gives understanding. Reading will make you free.” — Paul Rand