I've been a bit lost. In books that is. You open the first page of a fresh new book. You take in the pages; the smell, the crispness of each sheet, and that knowingness, that I will soon be within the depths of a story, perhaps so unlike my own, overwhelms me with joy. It... Continue Reading →
Why I Read
Someone recently said to me what a waste of time reading was. That they needed to actually 'be doing something;' like reading wasn't an appreciable concept. I was stunned. And for someone who usually can find the words to construct an argument as to why reading is not (a waste of time), I said nothing.... Continue Reading →