Books To Get You Back Into Reading Novels & Stories

“Like I’m choosing for myself. Not just taking what’s given.” After the mall, they hit a cozy independent bookstore tucked between a coffee shop and a laundromat. The bell above the door jingled as they entered, and the scent of old paper and fresh ink wrapped around them. Ella gravitated immediately to the fiction section—mysteries with intricate plots and fantasies filled with magic and second chances. “Maybe reading will jog something,” she said hopefully, stacking three books in Marcus’s arms. One was about a woman rediscovering her past through dreams; another followed unlikely heroes on a road trip. Marcus added a sturdy notebook with thick, unlined pages. “For when the pieces come bac

“I don’t really know, to be honest. Do you have any recommendations for someone who wants to start reading?” I blink at him. “You woke up one day and decided to become a reader, came to the library to pick up books, and now you don’t even know what you want?” I say, words spilling out before I can stop them. “You should at least know what you’re into. I’m not here to babysit your reading journey.” I grab my non fiction book from the desk, flipping it open just to keep my hands busy, to stop myself from saying the thousand creative insults running through my head. So much for trying to act professional.

I mentally curse at Ethan for being way too kind and forgiving her way too quickly. I was currently sitting alone in the lobby, waiting for Leah to come back. The bright light in the room acted as the perfect reading light as I tried to escape the loneliness by burying myself in Gone with the Wind by Margaret Mitchell. I only brought one book with me on this trip, but one thousand and thirty-seven pages were probably enough to keep me company for the reminder of the trip.

It was a small gesture, but it meant the world to me. As I read through the books he brought me, I found myself becoming more and more engaged. The stories were a welcome distraction from my thoughts, and I found myself losing myself in the characters and plotlines. It was a feeling I hadn't experienced in months, and it was a welcome respite from the darkness that had been consuming me.

His body’s gone too. For a moment, I stand still against the wall, half-expecting him to come back. Yet when I look behind me, I’m alone in the hallway. Son of a bitch. It’s morning, and I’m cutting the start of class to sneak to the bookstore. I have Debbie’s list of the popular BDSM series, but I don’t have to go far to find it. There’s a full display for it decorating an endcap. Debbie recommends the entire series, but I figure I better start with just the first. After consulting the list, I pluck the first one from the top of the shelf.

It felt strange, how something so small could pull at me like that. We kept walking. Somewhere near the corner shelf, I stopped again — a thin book caught my eye. The First Year: A Guide for New Parents. I reached for it, running my thumb along the spine. Pages soft, edges new. I flipped through — pictures of fathers holding babies, smiling mothers, small notes on feeding and sleep routines. For the first time that day, something in my chest loosened. “You know,” the storekeeper said, glancing at the book, “most fathers come back for that one. They say it helps.”

she murmured softly as she slid into the seat. He closed the door with a quiet click, circling around to the driver’s side. Moments later, the car purred to life, and they eased into the flow of traffic, heading back toward Queens. As the city lights blurred past them, Natalia found herself gazing out the window, her mind spinning with thoughts of Damien, Camila, and the life she’d carefully kept hidden for so long.

“Exactly. I mean, kids can read online, sure, but nothing beats holding a book, feeling the pages. There’s something about it, slows you down, makes you focus.” Tom leaned in, his eyebrows furrowed. “Right, but how do we get them back into the habit? Most parents just give in to the screens because it keeps kids quiet.” “I’ve been thinking about that,” I said, eyes lighting up. “What if we gamified reading? Reward systems, little challenges, like, read a chapter, get points. Make it social, too. Kids love sharing achievements.” Ben’s face lit up. “Yes! And maybe integrate some kind of digital tracker—so it’s tech-friendly but still pushes actual reading. Blend the two worlds.”

After that, I spend an hour in the gym downstairs, and then I grab some lunch before wandering into the rec room with a book my dad sent me called Finding Your Center: The Busy Woman's Guide to Inner Peace and Tranquility. I make it three pages before I start to feel antsy. It's too easy to let my mind wander while I'm reading. My thoughts keep going back to my argument with Luca last night. Or to our practice session last week. Or to a dozen other little things I've promised myself I won't think about.

I walked down the shelves that reached the ceilings, my fingers grazing the spine of the books lined there, some of the names I find familiar. I haven’t exactly been much of a reader over the past few years, but I was back in the days before shit hit the fan. In between getting my life plucked out, giving birth and raising a kid on an unfamiliar land, I found myself forgetting who I was back before it all went down.