I am by definition an avid reader. If I am being honest, I can take interest in almost any book, but only because reading to me isn’t a pastime, it is an escape from reality. With that being said, my absolute favorites include: anything Jane Austen, all Harry Potter, and Perelandra by C.S. Lewis. Also, I possess an insatiable limerence of writing. I often say that if I was stranded on a desert island (with the typical limitations) I would want an empty book as one of my three items…as long as my never-ending-ink pen is included with it. Writing is what keeps me sane, yet probably adds to my quirkiness. I cherish all forms of writing so long as I am given the freedom to make it my own, yet I never really feel like I am done with composition. I could improve upon my writing for years if I could. Now I feel rather narcissistic so this paragraph will come to a close.