it doesn’t have to be your favorite book or anything. It can be any book that you find yourself thinking of with a sense of pride for having read it.
Personally, I am really proud of myself for not DNFing A Little Life and pushing forward. I read a very good chunk of that book with tears running down my face–mind you, I was reading it on my phone during lectures for the entirety of my first semester last year–and I was always on the verge of putting it down just because of the horrible content. Also, it was pretty long; too long, actually. So when I was done, I was simultaneously Heartbroken, broken (just like in general), and relieved. It was truly a feat.
An honorable mention is A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens, because I swear to God I did not understand a single thing about it even 10 chapters in. Charles Dickens is too much.
Les Misérables when I was 13/14. Man I wish I had that drive as an adult. I was absolutely obsessed with that book.
I feel like my brain is not developed enough to fully understand that book yet, how tf did you read it at 14??
Honestly… no clue. I just needed to. I remember when I finished it at 3am at a summer camp and just stayed up crying until it was time to get up. I was a massive nerd is how, and once I was obsessed with something there was no escape until I’d exhausted the subject.
Now? At 25, I lose focus after reading an email and my eyes are too tired to look at a book without falling asleep most of the time. Burnt out disappointment of an ex “gifted” child, prime example, right here :’)