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I know that somewhere out in the world, there are people who don’t like to read. Generally, when I come in contact with these people, I quickly cover my mouth to keep from shrieking, “How do you survive?

See, I recently reread The Magician’s Nephew which is (depending on who you ask) the first or the sixth book in my favorite series of all time. Really, it takes nothing more than the mere mention of Narnia to reduce me to a pouting six year old. Why? you may ask? Well, my dears, the answer is one simple but earth-shatteringly tragic realization I came to upon finishing the series for the first time: I can never go to Narnia. Believe me, I have tried. I have closed myself in my sister’s wardrobe more times than a grown girl should probably admit, but never has it yielded a trip to a magical world filled with fauns and centaurs. All I’ve gotten out of it is a lot of wary glances from my sisters upon my exit from said wardrobe.

There’s just something about a fantasy story that really makes me wish I could be a part of their world. It’s impossible not to get drawn into it. I liken my experience reading fantasy stories to the phenomenon that occurs when someone enters the world of Narnia- time on Earth stops, and until that person’s adventure is through, time here waits for them. Maybe that’s not exactly what happens when I read- my to-do list is never very happy when I push it aside to read instead. But when I read, life stops and I’m in a magical place. Everything is more vibrant and in the end, all of the jumble of a storyline comes together into a satisfying conclusion.

So maybe my feet aren’t exactly firmly planted it reality, but then I don’t think I want to be. Where would I be without the stories I’ve lived vicariously through? If I had never watched as Aslan created the world in The Magician’s Nephew, or seen how evil was defeated in The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe? Or what if I hadn’t been there when Aslan destroyed all of Narnia in The Last Battle? Maybe it’s not reality, but to me it’s a memory, something that stretched my mind and helped me to imagine something further than what’s right in front of my eyes. And that’s never boring to me.

What about you? Do you like to read, or do have another form of escape?

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