Because of Reading

Reading has had a major impact on my life. I try to imagine a life without books. I look around at the shelves lining my room; the stacks of books upon books upon books, and try to pretend they aren’t there. The innumerable stories; doors into other worlds, other lives, gone. How empty my head would be, without those thousands of stories! I remember reading once that whilst an author may write a story, they need the reader to complete it. It is a joint effort, a combination of the imaginations of the writer and the reader. That is what makes a story.

Through reading I have learnt things; more than I have ever been taught at school. Things we don’t get taught at school (and maybe should). For example, I have learnt that life isn’t fair. That what goes around doesn’t always come around, and that it is better to accept reality for what it is than to flounder in dreams and fantasies. Sure, some might say that that is what a reader of fiction does; that they seek to escape reality by hiding in books. I say, that isn’t true. So, why do I read? I guess I read for knowledge, for learning about things that I would never have discovered otherwise. Through fiction I unearth fact. And through fact I better piece together the world around me. The more you know the less you need, as the saying goes. Knowledge is power.

And now, here’s the funny thing. I can hardly explain the impact reading has had on me. If I were to describe myself in a few words, reader would be one of them. That is how essential reading is to me. Can you really explain something that is such a part of you that it is like an arm or a leg? Friends ask me all the time why I bother reading, why I waste my time staring at scribbles on paper, when I could be watching TV, or hanging out with them? And, you know, every single time I’m asked this, I can’t give an explanation. It is like someone asking you, “Why do you breathe?” How would you respond to that?

Maybe, this lack of my ability to explain the impact reading has had on me is an explanation in itself. It demonstrates just how much I have been impacted. The word ‘activity’ hardly seems adequate to describe reading. It is far, far more than an activity. To me, reading is an adventure, a tireless, ceaseless adventure. A foray into worlds known and unknown. Stories make the intangible tangible, the unknowable known.

Reading has made me, made me who I am today. Reading and books have done more than just impact me. They are such a crucial part of my existence that they help to define me. I am who I am because of reading. Without it, I would be a whole different person.