Why I read
I read to experience a more interesting life. I read to leave my mundane everyday life to go to a more "intense" place—the small, tight pill, the "fix", of the novel or short story. I can feel emotions there not readily "available" to me in the here and now "real" world. I can connect again to feelings of being in love, being in lust, longings of the heart, anger, betrayal, heartbreak, joy. But it’s all fake/fiction. And, conveniently, I can lay it down as quickly and readily as I picked it up. Sometimes thankful it’s someone else’s story...sometimes wishing it was mine.
I read to see how others "do" life. A peak into others’ lives and routines and heads.
