Growing up as sheltered as I had, books provided a much-needed window into worlds I would never experience. They could afford me the comfort, safety, adventure, and glamour that I didn’t have access to but so deeply craved. I could travel anywhere in the world, even if in my real life I was barely allowed to leave the house. My dad would have to force me to stop reading at night so that he could turn off the light and let my sister, whom I shared a room with, finally sleep. Once he was gone, I would take my book out from under the covers and squint to make out the words by the light of my
...more
