Last week, I decided to organize the bookcase in my bedroom.

This bookcase holds hundreds of books.

Most are of an elementary reading level — "The Tale of Despereaux," "Inkheart," and though "Junie B. Jones" has moved to a storage closet, three books by Roald Dahl, "The Chronicles of Narnia" series, and the first installment of "A Series of Unfortunate Events" also find refuge here. Other books include high school reading books such as "The Great Gatsby" and "To Kill a Mockingbird." I also have "The Wizard of Oz," "Little Women," and "Alice in Wonderland." "The Twilight Saga" and—I’ll admit—a few Nicholas Sparks books are stacked just below.

I cannot claim to have read every book on these shelves. However, I can say that it was incredibly nostalgic for me to see some of them again after a year at college. It was just as easy for me to forget about their existence, as it was for me to remember.

I remember that my third grade teacher read "Inkheart" aloud to my class and that I loved it so much that I asked my parents to buy it for me—that and Inkspell, the second book in the series.

I remember doing a project in fourth grade on a book called "The Wish."

I remember trying to read "The Valley of Secrets" on at least three different occasions throughout middle school but getting bored each time and never being able to finish it. I only bought the book in the first place because I liked the cover.

I remember absolutely loving "The Invention of Hugo Cabret" — in part because of the story, but also because the incredibly thick monster of a book was mostly pictures and captivating ones at that.

I remember reading "Animal Farm" the summer before eighth grade and trying to understand the metaphoric Lenin, Trotsky, and Stalin.

Regrettably, I still have a paperclip on page 250 of "Les Miserablés." I underestimated the difficulty of the 1862 French classic.

I would highly recommend reading "The Things They Carried." I had to read it the summer going into eleventh grade and I waited until the last minute. I should have enjoyed it more.

My favorite babysitter bought me "The Alchemist" for my thirteenth birthday, only I didn’t read it until I had to do a project on it in twelfth grade. I am not a "Lord of the Rings" fan but I did read "The Hobbit" one summer and it was one of the greatest books I’ve read. If you get the chance, read them both.

I remember annotating The Odyssey — my first high school reading assignment — and I remember skimming a couple of short stories from Raymond Carver’s "Where I’m Calling From: New and Selected Stories" —my last high school reading assignment.

I have read "The Time Traveler’s Wife" three times.

When I was in third grade, my best friend — an incredibly avid third-grade reader — suggested on several occasions that I read the "Harry Potter" books. I didn’t listen for a long time. Truth be told, I didn’t like to read, and I wasn’t very good at it.

Eventually, I took her advice, and though I didn’t realize it at the time, it was probably one of the best decisions I’ve made. I owe her big time for that.

After making it through the "Harry Potter" series, I was open to reading all sorts of things. Youth books: I definitely wasn’t checking New York Times bestsellers off of any list. I loved receiving books as presents, as well as going to Borders or Barnes & Noble to comb the shelves and pick out new books to begin.

I should cite one caveat: I was not the greatest reader. Though I always understood the big picture, there were elements I overlooked when I read. For example, there were always details I wouldn’t pick up on in middle-school reading assignments. I would discover this, of course, when I would lose points on quizzes. Naturally, I was too stubborn to admit to missing these details.

Nevertheless, I liked being able to declare a book finished. I liked the satisfaction and glory of completion when I could close a book and tell someone about it.

I liked the stories, the characters, the mysteries, and the settings.

I loved being able to escape into an author’s fictional world and reside there for a while.

I feel like reading helped expand my imagination, it allowed me to think more creatively, and it provided me with content to consider when I was bored.

For example, I wanted to be just like Hermione from "Harry Potter." I still do. And I learned a lot about history, and more specifically, women in history, from Ann Rinaldi’s historical fiction books.

Additionally, reading outside of school definitely helped me with reading in school. I became a faster, more observant reader. I treated in-school reading as though it were outside-school reading, and thereby enjoyed it more. I made it a part of my daily life.

I would even go as far as to say that reading made me smarter.

Another thing that started to happen in my early "Harry Potter" days was that I started to write. I didn’t realize until several years later that this was the direct result of my sudden interest in reading.

I really don’t want to tell you that I was that ten-year-old kid who would write stories for fun and planned on becoming a child author… but I kinda was. It’s fine. I’ve accepted it. Let’s move on.

Writing gave me a hobby — something to do in my free time. It helped me refine my writing skills, albeit slowly, because I was doing it by myself. It allowed me to put my imagination on display and think creatively. To this day, it is something that I like to do.

It is important to read like a writer and write like a reader.

I recently had a conversation with the same friend who recommended "Harry Potter" all those years ago.

I said to her that I felt “dumber” than I was when I was younger, referring to the fact that I do not read nearly as much as I used to. I’m not sure if “dumber” is the appropriate word here, but I do think that that not reading creates a certain void: I don’t think as creatively as I once did and my imagination doesn’t have nearly as many worlds to wonder off to. I don’t feel as aware or as complete.

Reading — though I do think schools and universities choose excellent books for their curricula — has become rather school-sanctioned: it is required, tedious, and not always enjoyable. It has become a sort of chore.

Regardless, reading is important. It fills our minds, and gives us different perspectives to consider. It gives us insight into the minds of authors and it allows us to connect with people who have read the same or similar material as us.

It allows children to grow and explore. It teaches them to become better readers, writers, and informed individuals.

I wish to argue one other point. Books not only give us insight into historical and fictional worlds, but into our own worlds as well.

Looking at the books on my shelves, I not only remember the contents of the books but of my life at the time that I read them.

Books find us at different points in our lives, and depending on when these points occur, we understand the books differently. They hit us in certain ways and cause us to reflect on various things. They inspire us.

They remind us of the school reading we waited until the last minute to do, the project we worked hard on, and the time we finally decided to listen to our friend and read "Harry Potter."

Perhaps, the greatest stories that books tell are ours.