When someone tells me to 'just relax,' I wonder why they don’t hand me a book?

Read. Dream. Repeat.

The magic of reading happens when an author’s written work strings you along until your imagination, aware of your wants, molds the tale into an extraordinary world to be visited frequently—perhaps dwelt in for years.

A closed book will lie there like a dead horse. But an open book will kick, buck, and bolt through perceived adventures like a wild and free stallion. So hold on.

I read so I might live a thousand lives in a lifetime. I write to control the particulars in those lives.

Every book is its own black hole. Don’t fight the pull; find out where it takes you.

Books are carnival rides for your imagination.