A distressed 14-year-old sits alone in his room, searching for entertainment. Perusing his bookshelf, he finds nothing, and resorts to his video games he’s already been playing for hours on end. Books don’t catch his attention anymore; the same tiresome stories, told again and again, became dull. His energy wanes and his drive slackens; his homework remains blank. The next day at school, as he stares into space, words from the people around him fade into the background and become a faint buzz. Certain words begin to cut through the monotony: book, disgusting, hilarious, amazing. These words, which were painted with an array of expletives, drew him out into the conversation. Stating his interest, the book, John Dies at the End was handed to him; he began flipping through it, reading chapter titles and the beginnings of paragraphs. That afternoon, he immediately went to the bookstore after demanding a ride from his mother. The book cost a hefty price, but it was well worth it. Getting home, he shed the book from the plastic bag it was in and closed himself off inside his room to begin reading. Sentence after sentence, page after page, chapter after chapter. Every word engrossed him and brought him deeper into the story, the story he was beginning to live himself, becoming the characters and living their lives. In three days, the nearly 400 page book was fully absorbed into his psyche, becoming part of him; but he still desired more. Right away, he read the book again. It had him.
Fast-forward a few months, to TAKS week. A dreaded week for most, it was his favorite. His TAKS week maxim of “take a test for an hour, read for four” drove him forward. He couldn’t find a book worthy of the four hours, so he went back to a previous favorite. Placing John Dies at the End in his backpack, he smiled. He was looking forward to reading it for the third time. His math test flew by, and before he knew it, he was reading. Familiar