Reasons For Reading Novels & Stories

I just moved to another painting. He followed again. "What were you doing at the library?" he asked all of a sudden. I blinked. "Reading of course." "Why?" "Why do I read?" I asked, amused. "To... gain knowledge." He studied me like the answer wasn't enough. "I mean—what made you go there in the first place?"

“What kind of books?” “Mostly biographies.” “That sounds exactly like you.” Julian stood up from the chair as well. “And you only read romance?” “Not only,” I said defensively. “Just… mostly.” “Why?” I shrugged. “Because they’re easy to get lost in.” Julian studied my face like he was trying to understand something deeper behind that answer. “Real life isn’t like those stories,” he said. “I know that.” “Then why read them?” “Because sometimes it’s nice to believe people actually figure things out.”

It makes you feel like you belong. This is also why I love reading—it keeps me engaged, gives my mind something to do, and, honestly, it prevents boredom from creeping in. Then, there’s a knock on the door. I feel a little caught off guard, so I lean over to grab my glass of wine again, thinking it’ll make me seem like a businesswoman—like I’ve got everything together. But in my haste to put it back on the coffee table, I almost spill it all over my sleepwear. My legs, still crossed, scramble to readjust.

I do it because I am committed, and love my readers here so much. I hope you understand the point where I am coming from. Have a pleasant read ahead. Thanks for reading.

We read for a long time. After a long time, I could finally once again lose myself in another world which was not the reality. Reading meant escaping reality. That was why I read. Because the reality was sometimes ugly. But in books, it was always better.

The truth was too raw and revealing, which is why I had stopped. "I'll give it a shot," I whispered softly, with resolute determination. "Good." Livia wrote on her paper and then glanced at me once more. “People's lack of interest in reading is due to their desire for flawlessness." Their motivation for reading is to prevent isolation. The warmth she expressed was as savagely strong as the words she spoke. Maybe she was right. Writing down my fears could potentially make someone feel understood. Once more, I drank coffee at a leisurely pace, experiencing the experience in varying ways.

Because sometimes, you don’t read stories for the truth. Sometimes, you read them for the hope that it might be different this time. Even in prison. Even here. Even for us.

I turned to her with a knowing smile, “We could get some freaky time after.” She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. “How about we stay back in school and read?” My smile immediately disappeared. I looked at her like she’d just said we should set the basketball court on fire. “Why do you like reading so much?” I asked, completely serious. She tilted her head at me, doing that smug, know-it-all thing she always did, that was annoying but cute as hell. “Because we need to pass exams,” she said sweetly. “And to pass, we need to read. It’s kind of important, don’t you think?”

Why and what are your reasons? Thanks for checking out my book. ;)

She told him, I am concerned about the reason why you write, I observe that you do not promote yourself or show any interest so that your works are known in other latitudes. I write for several reasons that are important to me, he told her. It serves as an outlet for me because I express part of my life in my writings, it is as if I shared a little piece of my soul with my readers. What I write leaves teaching, he who seeks finds, my books are read by people who need to read those lines, either to learn or because of the need to share with someone related to their ideas.