As the holiday season approaches, I find myself reflecting on the simple pleasures that bring meaning to life—moments with loved ones, the comfort of a warm meal, or the soft glow of holiday lights. These reflections remind me of the themes in Elizabeth Berg’s The Year of Pleasures, a book I recently re-read. For me, reading is one of those simple joys that make life richer and more fulfilling.
Whether I’m revisiting an old favorite story or discovering a new story, books have a way of grounding me, sparking my imagination, and expanding my understanding of the world. Reading isn’t just a pastime—it’s a journey into self-discovery, an escape from the ordinary, and a source of inspiration—one page at a time.
My Journey from Reluctant Reader to Book Lover
Believe it or not, I wasn’t a natural reader. As a child, I was a talker—the kid who couldn’t sit still because there was always someone new to meet and something new to share. In first grade, my teacher moved me from one seat to the next, hoping to quiet me down. What she didn’t realize was that every move was just a fresh opportunity for me to get to know someone else, to hear their story and tell mine. Finally, out of sheer frustration, she put me under a table.
It won’t surprise you to hear I didn’t learn to read that year. My teacher wanted to hold me back, but my parents weren’t too thrilled about the “under-the-table” strategy. Instead, they hired a tutor. And once I was away from the fascinating distractions of other six-year-olds, I quickly learned to read. What happened next changed my life.
Suddenly, every question I had could be answered in the pages of a book. Biographies introduced me to people I’d never heard of and revealed a life beyond the borders of my small town of 1,200 people. Discovering Beverly Cleary’s Ramona Quimby books helped me realize I wasn’t the only little girl getting into trouble. Books didn’t just entertain me—they expanded my world, ignited my imagination, and showed me lives and ideas far beyond my own.
As I grew older, reading became a source of confidence and curiosity. It made school easier and life richer. Today, it’s more than just a habit; it’s my sanctuary. Curling up with a book after a busy day feels like a gift to me—a way to unwind, reflect, and dream.
How Reading Led to Writing
But reading isn’t where the magic ends. Writing fiction has become just as important to me. It fulfills that same need to escape while giving me a way to work through ideas and emotions inspired by the stories I read or the moments I experience in life. I love exploring the decisions people make—what leads them there, how different choices might change their lives, and what it all means in the end. Writing allows me to create, process, and imagine, just as reading has always done.
It’s funny to think that the same little girl who struggled to read has grown into someone who can’t imagine life without books or storytelling. Reading and writing are my way of connecting with a world far bigger than I ever imagined. What about you? Has a book—or maybe even writing—ever changed your life? I’d love to hear your story.