They’re never just books.
They’re whole worlds bound in paper and ink and spines. They’re the friends who never left you behind, the ones who were always there when the rest of the world wasn’t, the ones who turned a rainy day into an adventure.
They’re the ones that didn’t care that you were a little overweight, that you had glasses or flat feet or had to use an inhaler at the thought of a mile run.
They’re the ones that didn’t laugh or make fun.
They’re the ones who encouraged you to think, to work, to create, that showed it was a worthy endeavor to put words to paper. They’re the ones who inspired, pushed you to make your own worlds, your own stories.
Like a symbol of scientific notation, stories are an immense force of the universe bound within the confines of something as small as a paperback.
There is an under-representation of our stories, just as there is an under-representation of us in politics and in business and everywhere. That’s what feminism is [to me] right now - the recognition that we are still not equal.
I absolutely love guys. I love hanging out around them - well, not all of them, some of them are dickheads - but you know, the ones that I love, I love.
But you have to recognize that the playing field isn’t even yet, and it does have to be even. And you can still like clothes.