I was the girl in elementary school who read the eight hundred-page books. I read the book in the course of two days. I read it in the living room, while I was eating, and while I was supposed to be sleeping. I was the girl who cried when I dog-eared a page. I was the girl who had to glasses because I read in the dark.

I was the girl in middle school who was at the media center whenever I had the free time. I was the girl who laughed when the Kindle came out. I was the girl who was on the reading bowl team because it was one of the best things I had in a dark period of time. I was the girl who had five checked out books in my locker and two books in my hand while I had one in my hand while I walked from class to class.

I was the girl in high school who never picked up a book for herself again.

I've read books of course, but for crying out loud I've had to annotate them. In a way, I appreciate Lit classes for forcing us to read certain books, books I know I will read over and over again for the rest of my life. I appreciate my IB Lit class for teaching me the new ways to read books, a way that has changed me.

It frustrated me when I went to the public library this summer picked up five books, and didn't read past page two on any of them. I don't read anything but articles with gifs, tweets, and textbooks. It kills me that something I was able to love so much doesn't do anything for me. I miss being able to open a book and escape into the pages where heroes, love, adventure, and excitement existed.

I want to blame it on something. I want to blame my lack of passion on school and how it has taken over the every aspect of my life, rendering me with zero free time and too much stress. I want to blame it on technology and how we as people want to just watch Netflix more, and I do watch a lot of Netflix. I get angry when my brother picks up his video game rather than books, I get angry when he reads the same comic book with improper grammar over and over and over again. I get angry when my friend types away on her laptop with her headphones rather than reading.

I want us as a society to slow down, do something that actually takes time, and a mental effort to do. I'm making a public commitment to reading again right now. I will download three books on my phone (I know phone but at least it's something) and read whenever I feel like scrolling through twitter. I challenge all of you to take some time out of your life and dedicate to the lost art of reading.

I thank Cornelia Funke whose book, Inkheart, taught me to love the ink on the pages.