I have been a reader for most of my life. The days of my childhood were spent dissociating from the world around me, choosing to dwell instead between the pages of a book. Worlds crafted by some of the most imaginative people that have ever lived are where I spent a majority of my time. Tolkien, Lucas, Martin, and Paolini were the forgers of my youth. By the time I was 13, I had experience hundreds of years and a million destinations. I had felt the scorching heat of Tatooine’s dual suns. I had wandered the vastness of Middle Earth, walking the path to Mordor and Erebor. As a dragon rider I had freed a people oppressed for a thousand years, and all thus within the pages of a book. My dreams were ruled by the words I had read. It was within these words that I learned the great lessons of life. Those pages taught me that sometimes you don’t get to choose but instead are chosen. Sometimes, your life is bigger than just you. A hundred lessons were taught within thousands of pages. I may never become a Jedi or a Dragon rider, and I may never save the world, but that doesn’t make the words on those pages worth anything less.