Books: My Favorite Escape Plan

 Cao,  how are you doing?

I’m not going to tell you that reading is good for your brain, improves your vocabulary, or helps you live longer—blah blah blah, science stuff. You’ve probably heard all that a thousand times.

Instead, I’ll tell you this: read when there’s a storm of thoughts in your mind and absolutely nothing will make it shut up. You know what I mean—that chaotic mental spiral where every idea, worry, and imaginary conversation decides to show up uninvited. In those moments, a book can be the perfect escape.

When you find a book that’s interesting enough, it creates a temporary peace treaty with your brain. Suddenly, your mind isn’t obsessively overthinking or spiraling anymore—it’s curious. It wants to know what happens next, what’s on the next page, in the next chapter. That shift? That’s priceless.

There’s just something so beautiful about it. Reading gives me access to other worlds, other minds, other timelines. It helps me feel connected to people I’ve never met, and even to parts of myself I didn’t know existed until I saw them mirrored in a sentence. I can’t fully explain it, but if you’ve ever been truly pulled into a book, you’ll know what I mean.

If I had to pick a favorite, I’d say Russian literature absolutely has my heart. There’s this depth, this heaviness, this raw humanity in it that I can’t resist. Dostoevsky, Tolstoy, Chekhov… their characters stay with me for months, sometimes years. But that doesn’t mean I only stick to one genre.

Actually, I read across all genres because I genuinely believe that every genre exists for a particular mood.

Historical fiction or nonfiction? Perfect for those rainy days when my brain is calm, unbothered, and ready to soak in information like a sponge. Lighthearted comedy? That’s for when I need to give my brain a break and just enjoy something silly, something that makes me smile without trying too hard.

Right now, I’m reading The Petty Bourgeois (Les Petits Bourgeois) by Honoré de Balzac. What I love about it is how honestly it portrays the social dynamics of 19th-century France.It’s not romanticized or sugar-coated—just brutally real, and I kind of love that. There’s something satisfying in seeing how deeply literature can reflect society, even from centuries ago.

And here’s a little reading ritual I always recommend to anyone who enjoys books even just a little: make your own bookmark for the book you’re about to read. I try to create one that matches the book’s vibe, color palette, or theme. If the next book feels similar, I’ll reuse the same bookmark. If not, I make a new one. It sounds simple, but it really adds a personal touch to the reading experience—like you’re honoring the story before you even begin it.

Also, a small update—if you’ve read my second post Why I Write, you might be happy to hear that my essay was recently published on a Russian literary website! That meant a lot to me, especially considering how much Russian literature has influenced my own writing and thinking.

So no, I won’t lecture you with brain studies or statistics. I’ll just say: when life feels loud, find a good book and let it carry you somewhere else. Even if just for a chapter.

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies . . . The man who never reads lives only one.”
— George R.R. Martin

Nena