I’m on break. I’m on a school-work hiatus known commonly as Winter Break. It’s a disrupting four weeks in which everything in my life pauses, I move back into my childhood bedroom, and suddenly I have a lot more time for Netflix.

Though I am already missing my friends and my busy schedule, I’ve really enjoyed adventures with J.K. in her adult mystery novel The Cuckoo’s Calling and watching Bones episodes with my mom. Books and movies are a really important way to refresh and feed over-stressed, over-worked brains. They give meaning to the empty spaces.

I began college an un-declared English major. I wanted to major in English for two reasons: 1. I love to write and 2. I love stories. The major has changed, but my love for fiction never will. I was that kid lying under the covers with a flashlight and a Harry Potter book, though I usually did not have to resort to secrecy. I learned very early on that strict bed times were for loud children, whereas reading children were allowed to finish their chapters first, and the longer the chapter, the more luxurious the night became.

There was a program at my local elementary called “literary guild” that gave trophies to successfully nerdy children who read a certain number of books from multiple genres. It was fun and interesting and something that this horridly-uncoordinated little body could be proud of. Let’s be real: I was far too busy picking dandelions to ever be a soccer star, but I loved stories. I read poems and plays and biographies and fables. They were rich and fun and decadent. Fiction fed my appetite for life and adventure. Dragons and fairies and magical wands made anything seem possible, and my short suburban life much fiercer than it ever was in reality.

But stories aren’t for children. Stories are for anyone who likes to dream. Life is not always as exciting as a Stephen King novel or a Bones episode, so imagination and escape are essential to maintain sanity, as well as a healthy sense of fun. Netflix anyone? If I have to study statistics for days on end, I am also going to watch a healthy portion of Gilmore Girls. It could be that I’m lazy or unproductive that way, but I like to refer to my brief escapades into the realm of fantasy as healthy bites of brain candy. Stories take us away; they inspire us; they excite us. They save our brains from rotting in some of the more mundane details of human life. If I only ever focused on problems, assignments, work, paper, money, and other subjects that do not breathe, my creativity would die, and with it my ability to solve anything.

Stories also bring us together. One of the many details I love about my little bro is that he is the chilliest human being I know. There is no drama with Noah, and he never changes. One of Noah’s favorite activities has always been watching TV, and we grew up hanging out together in front of the TV set. Dude breathes Netflix, and Stranger Things is one of our favorite things to do together. We get to experience the suspenseful moments together, after turning off the lights and gathering snacks (of course.) We speculate on what’s going to happen, shushing each other when one of us speaks out of turn. There’s lots of gesticulating and muffled noises that come with experiencing an adventure into a fantastical world together. Those moments are the sort of magic that stories were written for, and they’re the reason why I am waiting (not very patiently) for Noah to make time out of his high school final’s schedule to watch the next episode.

I think some people have the impression that stories take away from time we could spend living our own lives, but I disagree. I’ve learned a lot from book characters over the years. I don’t think I’d be half so gutsy without the spurring tales of the notorious Jackie Faber or the palpable imagery of Ginny Weasley’s brazen look. I still think about her stout courage, unflappable character, and unquenchable love on especially bad days. Some of my favorite people are characters, and I remember the little details that made them special to me. I emulate them in my daily life, whether by choosing the most effective words to calm someone down, or having the gumption to start a dance party in a boring moment.

Stories are more than empty pockets of entertainment. They are timeless vessels of wisdom and charisma, personality and fun. Stories convey thoughts and ideas, political expression and secret dreams. They are beautiful histories and cherished art pieces. When we read or watch something that really captivates us, those stories come alive.

So catch up on your shows! Peel open a book you haven’t touched in a while. Use whatever time you have to immerse yourself in something beautiful and well-crafted, something that brightens your day or makes you think. Stories are only as important as we, our lives, our thoughts, and our common experiences are. So take care of your story by hearing someone else’s. I don’t think you’ll regret the experience, not in those moments when you share a reference with someone who knows EXACTLY what you’re talking about, and not in those times when you’re as motivated to act by a fictional character as you have been by someone real who shared in your life. Enjoy a story and live outside of yourself. I think you’ll return with something extra.u