Stories are magical. They are open and wild and crazy and imaginative. There’s really no end to what can be done within just that one broad title, and it’s so great to see authors and their different takes on it. So here you are, ten reasons I why love books.
Arya’s Ten Reasons That Books Make the Best Friends:
1. You’ll never get bored with a trusty book by your side- whether it’s waiting in a line or just lying around at home, there’s always that option of jumping into a totally different universe.
2. Story characters, unlike certain friends you may or may not have, will never judge you for obsessing over them.
3. Camouflage is an easy thing to achieve by simply peering over the top of book pages while inconspicuously sitting on a park bench.
4. The book is yours. All yours.
5. Stories can make a very good conversation topic.
6. But then again, who needs human interaction when you can just read the book? Avoiding social situations is easy with a book on hand.
7. In a pinch, books make good headrests.
8. Books can serve as good shields in an unplanned duel- and in addition, stellar weapons as well.
9. Need to look smart and studious? If you’ve got the right book, you’ve got the right look (that slogan doesn’t quite rhyme, but it’s close enough).
10. You’ll never feel alone with a good story in your hands.
There’s just too much to do in life and not enough time to accomplish it.
At least, that seems to be my excuse.
I was talking to my mom the other day, and she was telling me about how she watched a video (or read an article? I don’t quite remember to be honest) about procrastination, and the reason that people don’t get things done. According to whatever it was that she watched or read, the reason is the reasons.
At first I was a bit puzzled. I didn’t know at all what she meant. After all, procrastination is just finding reasons to do anything but the-
And that’s when I got it.
I wish I could run away
Into a forest rid of weeks and days
Where time is gone
And I’m in a safe space
Fly on the wings
Of a paper plane
And find myself in a place
Where the end is the start and the start is the end
Yet there is not a trace
Of regret or remorse
Sadness and suffering
No stress or anger or chase
I wish and I want
But I’m here to stay
There truly is no escape
I have this weird obsession with old stuff.
I realized this when I went with my mom and my sister to this little shop in downtown. Well, actually, to be honest, I’ve kinda known it since I was a wee munchkin- I’ve just started embracing the weirdness now.
I’ve been a bit of a packrat since I was a little kid (just ask my mom). Whether it was an oddly-shaped box or a piece of string, I would stash it away in my room. And now, maybe four or five years later, I’m still finding little items from when I shoved them in the corners of my bookshelf or drawer.
Anywhoozals, my family and I were in this quaint little place that was like an art studio and gallery smushed into one. As soon as you walked in, there were multiple tall table-counter-things that had typewriters on them. There were stacks of paper next to these typewriters, and I just immediately had the urge to type on them.
I’ve found that I have this thing where I just get really excited about old vintage-looking stuff. Somehow typewriters, quills, and old cameras with real actual film in them make my imagination open up in different ways than it does with my computer. Maybe it’s because I start to feel like I’m in stories like Harry Potter where they write on parchment, or that I’m like Lemony Snicket in the way he writes the story of the Baudelaires on a typewriter. I don’t even know for sure, but old stuff gets me inspired.
What are some strange things that inspire you?
Just a quick little story I typed up on a whim. It had no outline or plan, it just started off as a writing prompt I found online and turned into something. It’s completely unedited, so excuse any typos, bad grammar, word choice, any of that fun stuff. I might just come back to it later on. (:
“Uh… I just… I just really like trees.”
The words were out of my mouth before I could think of a better excuse to why I was always spending my time up in the large tree’s branches.
Jenna raised her eyebrows. “Really, Conrad?”
I blinked. “Yeah, for sure! Trees are… Um… My passion.”
“Yeah. Totally. And I’m a magical pony.”
I shrugged. “Well, you are kinda-”
“Don’t say it.” A threatening finger was pointed in my face. I just laughed. Jenna is one of the strangest people I had ever met (and probably ever will meet in the future), but she is one of the people I can call my closest friends.
We stood in silence under the oak tree for a minute.
“So what’s up there?” Jenna finally asked again, gesturing upwards with her left thumb.
I glanced up into the branches uneasily. This was my tree. No one but me had ever been up there. I never even let my mom tell the gardener to trim the branches- actually, if those branches got trimmed, the secret would be revealed.