Stories have a magic of their own.
They make you feel alive.
You stand alongside the dashing heroine, feeling her breath upon your face. You carry the humid weight of a dank cavern, hooves sink into the same sand as your imaginary companion.
Not imaginary.
Real.
Stories have the power to make things real.
Your heart races as you both try to escape the clutches of the quicksand, perspiration lightly wetting the hastily turned pages. Your eyes dance faster as the plucky adventurer frantically searches for a way out.
There is always a way out.
Your hope for the character’s fate is real.
You are convinced that if you read hard enough, hope enough, that your companion will survive, emerge from the pages victorious.
Most times they do.
The rogue knight defeats the evil sorceress, the timid outcast finds love, or harmony is restored.
Your resulting joy and satisfaction is real.
But sometimes?
Your beloved character dies. The lost foal never finds his parents. Evil reigns.
And that’s okay.
You gain satisfaction through disappointment.
Lost hope brings clarity.
These “disappointing” stories reveal truths.
About the world you live in, about yourself.
Readers are brave.
Readers dare to find themselves in uncomfortable situations.
To learn these difficult, but real, truths
To experience a higher level of reality.
That was touching to read... I'm the only one who really reads in my family and I'd love for them to see my world or my worlds that exist between the pages of a book. Now... Where's Sugar Berry!? I nearly fell outta my seat when I saw a new chapter and although its awesome to read I figured it was a long quote that opened to the story but come on! It was really good though... Good enough to earn a passage in the Bookworm's Bible!