My love affair with books started during the pandemic. For some reason, I struggled to connect to reading when I was younger. I never did finish the Harry Potter series (I’m sorry!), and my reading was mostly limited to non-fiction books like National Geographic’s Weird, But True. But this all changed with Pride and Prejudice. That book sparked something in me, and a frenzy ensued. I fell in love with all the stories I discovered, all the characters I met and all the adventures I went on.

Being back in school for sophomore year felt similar to being isolated on remote school. I struggled, like most people, to figure out where I fit. But I always felt like I fit in stories. Between the start of freshman year and the end of this year, I would estimate that I’ve read well over 300 books. At some point, I stopped keeping track since I’m reading every day.

And throughout this time, not only did I fall in love with stories, but I fell in love with love stories. Not many people know this but at least half of the books I’ve read have been romance novels.

Regrettably, oftentimes    things that young girls enjoy can get played off as silly, dumb, or immature. I think that my favorite genre of books falls into the same category. But I’ve always been a hopeless romantic and nothing puts a smile on my face quite like a good love story. Romance books became a buoy for me during the turbulent time of high school. When everything felt uncertain, just seeing the words “guaranteed HEA” (happily ever after) gave me an outlet, a place of guaranteed comfort.

Soon, my love of reading transformed into a love of writing. I decided to attend the Iowa Young Writers’ Studio and discovered a whole community of writers from all over the world.    Now I edit for The Stirling Review, an international literary magazine run by young writers, for young writers.

Reading has given me more than an escape—it has broadened my world.