Have you ever looked at people reading books in the metro, spending hours in libraries, or reading a few pages before bed and wondered what makes reading so fascinating that people get completely lost in it?
Well, I have. Quite often, actually.
I’ve always wanted to be someone who reads. Someone who picks up a book instead of scrolling through Instagram for hours. Someone who gets so lost in a story that they forget there’s an entire world outside it. And, most importantly, someone who actually finishes what they started.
But here’s the thing: I’ve never really been that person.
I’ve never really been a reader!
I buy books, get excited about them, read a few pages, and then somehow forget they exist.
A while ago, I even bought a few self-help books that promised to teach me how to build better habits. But somehow, I couldn’t develop the habit of reading.
And honestly, I’m still trying to change that.
I’ve always loved trying new things and exploring different hobbies, though. And reading was something I genuinely wanted to experience for myself.
How does a story written by someone you’ve never met become something you look forward to returning to? How does a writer become your favourite? And how do you reach a point where you casually find yourself quoting something you once read in a book?
I don’t think I’ve figured all of that out just yet.
But I did find a book that made reading feel a little less intimidating.
Days at the Morisaki Bookshop by Satoshi Yagisawa.
It’s a short, comforting novel about Takako, a young woman whose life takes an unexpected turn when her boyfriend casually tells her that he’s getting married to someone else.
And no, she’s not the bride.
Heartbroken and unsure of what to do next, she eventually finds herself living above her uncle’s secondhand bookshop in Tokyo.
And that’s where things slowly begin to change.
Now, if you’re someone who loves dramatic plot twists, shocking revelations, or stories that keep you guessing until the last page, this might not be the book for you.
Because not much happens in the way we’re usually taught to expect things to happen in stories.
People talk. They read. They spend time together.
And somehow, that’s enough.
It’s a wholesome little book that doesn’t rely on tragedy or a heartbreaking ending to leave an impression on you.
What I liked about this book is that it doesn’t try too hard to be extraordinary.
It’s simply a story about finding comfort in unfamiliar places, making peace with things that didn’t work out, and realising that sometimes the things you thought would end your entire world might just lead you towards experiences you never expected.
It’s about figuring out what comes next, even when life doesn’t go according to plan.
It’s been a while since I read it, and I don’t remember every little detail. But I do remember how it felt.
Warm. Simple. Comforting.
And sometimes, that’s all you need from a book.
There’s also a sequel, More Days at the Morisaki Bookshop, if you find yourself wanting to spend a little more time in that world.
So, if you’re like me, someone who’s always wanted to get into reading but never quite managed to make it a habit, maybe start here.
Not because this book will magically turn you into a reader.
But because your first book doesn’t have to change your life. Sometimes, it just has to make you want to pick up another one.