Why We Are Reading 소설 & 이야기

It is my hope that my words will find a resonance with readers, that they will evoke emotions, provoke thoughts, and spark conversations. In the process of writing, I have come to realize that storytelling is not a solitary endeavor. It is a collaboration between the author and the reader, a dance of interpretation and imagination. Each reader brings their unique perspective, experiences, and emotions to the narrative, breathing life into the words on the page. It is this beautiful symbiosis that transforms mere ink on paper into a living, breathing entity.

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.

Luxiana Sommeris Work had been exhausting, but I felt a quiet satisfaction at the end of the day. A steady stream of students and middle-aged readers had come to the library, eagerly searching for books to immerse themselves in. I’d always assumed that technology would take over even the simple joy of reading. With ebooks and online platforms offering instant access to stories—often for just a handful of coins—it seemed inevitable. Yet, seeing people choose the weight of a book in their hands, cherishing the earthy smell of its pages, and savoring the anticipation of flipping to the next chapter made me undeniably happy.

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?”

Damian asked. “Nah, I’ve got it all under control,” Mark said easily. “So, how do you guys usually spend your days?” “I actually borrowed a book from the library,” I said, “so I’ll probably just read all day.” “You still borrow physical books?” Mark asked, genuinely curious. “Why not just get it on your phone?” “Because it’s not the same,” I replied with a smile. “There’s something different about holding it, about the smell of paper and ink, and swiping pages.”

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.

Makes humans rapted in an imaginary world, completely forgetting what reality brings. But I doubt so. I think books are more of an extension of real life happenings. Not a disease but a cure. Most people read books to escape reality and not to forget it. We don't get trapped in our own imaginations, we just foresee images that we want our lives to become. Saliently, we learn from books. If I can't associate with anyone, I thought at least I should be permitted to read books. After all, books can't capture the identity of the one reading it, can it?

The words didn't blur. Her phone buzzed. Idris: What are you doing? She typed: Reading. The book again? The book again. Why? She looked at the page. The words she'd read a hundred times. The sentences she thought she understood. Because I think I missed something. That's what reading is for. She set the phone down. The room was quiet. The street below was quiet. She turned the page.

Someone had asked her this very question before. "I do not know why I read." Micah said calmly after giving the question a thought. Drigo smiled wearily. "I read because I love to gather knowledge. I like to chip in words that people cannot comprehend and watch them stutter while trying to fathom the meaning of the words I speak. I read because…it is the only thing that gives me value in this palace; without my knowledge…I am nothing." His words wormed their way into Micah's skull. "Maybe you read because you see it as an option to drive away loneliness. You and your thoughts woven into a book, left to your imagination… quite entertaining."

I murmured to myself, feeling the need to read I once again. “Day 1 of 41.” I started reading aloud. I do not care anymore if there may be someone who can hear me reciting a poem but no one can stop me. I am absolutely on the point of mu=y life that I have to read something for me to gain back the lessons I have lost, the metaphors I forgot to use and the feeling of having those butterflies inside my stomach. I just miss that point in my life and now I am giving myself a favour. Stars gone falling down