What attracts us to books? What makes us absolutely adore writing, like bees to honey? Why books, of all things? Honestly. I could love soccer or movies or video games or dancing or gymnastics or even painting. Or anything. But I love to write. And read. Why?

Well, I mean, come on. To most of us in the bookish community, it’s like are you kidding?! WHY books? Um, because they’re awesome. Duh. But, despite our love of books, some people just don’t like to read. (Gasp!)

So why books? Because they make us think. Because they’re relatable. Because they’re not relatable. Because they take us to different worlds. Because for those of us who can’t seem to open up to anyone, we can open up to the people we meet in books. Because the pages smell great. Because they put things we can’t describe into just the right words. Because, despite our weirdness and quirks and shames and sins and faults and sometimes just the boringness (is that even a word? I should be ashamed of my un-bookishness. That’s not a word, either) of life, in books, everything washes away and you’re not you anymore.

Once you know how to read, you officially have access to a whole world of no limits and no boundaries. The whole world is in your hands.

What are you going to do with it?