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Most people who know me ask how many books have I read; when do I have time to read and also: IS THERE A MOVIE TO THE BOOK YOU READING?

Well, I discovered the wonderful Universe of books such a long time ago. I was in primary school and my dad started recommending me different stories he thought I might like. We never had bed time routine or a lovely read before sleep. I never actually knew it’s a thing until later on speaking with children my age. But that didn’t bother me at all. I didn’t know what I was missing so therefore I couldn’t imagine it would be something I would enjoy.

Seeing my father read on the sofa every day after long hours at work made me want it as well. I was staring at him like a puppy asking him so many questions about the books he was reading. He even had a monthly subscription at the post office and he was receiving new titles at all times. I found it fascinating and couldn’t imagine how many words a novel can have. I imagined writers as superheros and thought someone who reads must be an incredibly smart person.

Getting to my teenage years I discovered adventures and secret lovers, kings and queens, rich and poor. A different world with every story. I started looking for hiding places so I can just read and I refused to go outside and play because I found books far more interesting than anything anyone had to say to me.

If someone would have asked me what was my favourite genre I had no idea what to answer. I was reading whatever I could find in my dad’s collection and was happy with it.

First novels I was introduced to were The Three Musketeers, Black Tulip, Robin Hood, Winnetou and later on I fell in love with Gone With the Wind (still one of my favourite books of all times), Scarlet and obviously Shogun. These were the classics of my times and I devoured them.

I loved reading and I could have fed on books at that age. They were my ticket to freedom. I could have escaped anything just by opening a book. No more noisy and annoying brothers cause they did like to tease and upset me; no more nagging from my mum nor questions related to who got bigger grades in my class.

Later on I was just reading out of pleasure. I got to a point when I discovered different temptations and lived a bit outside books. This don’t mean I put it all on hold. I was still a bookworm but a slower one. Maybe studying kept me away a bit, maybe the job I had was taking almost all of my time if not more than legally required. Maybe I just didn’t want to escape anymore at that time.

And when adulthood hit me in the face I came back to my first love. Because first love is always comfortable and beautiful. I came back and embraced it with all my heart and haven’t let go since. I read as one breaths. I read so I can escape. I read so I can fight anxiety and I read because I love it.

I read and read and never have enough. If by any chance there passes a day without opening a book I get anxious. I look for a brief moment to be alone and just submerge into a story, travel places, imagine scenes, love, argue, walk away or come back along with incredible characters I discover.

I read because I want to and because I love it. I just read without needing a reason to read

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