Do you remember when you loved reading? When you went to the library and picked up the next Nancy Drew mystery, simply because you remembered how much you loved the last one you read, and the one before that, and the one before that. Or popping into a bookstore and picking up a book. Holding it in your hand, feeling the heft or maybe the lightness of the book. Feeling the cover, letting the smoothness, the embossing, the subtle dips glide under your fingers. Smelling the fresh print (my personal favorite). Then simply buying it because it was by your favorite author, in your favorite genre, because it felt good in your hands, or simply because it was a Tuesday and you needed to home this book. This piece of art, this work of fiction, to help you, to hold you, to engross you, it called out to you.
And no one’s opinion mattered.

And mine doesn’t either.
I’m reading books in a certain place and time. In a specific headspace. Because I’m happy, sad, or because my therapist told me to (yes, Sophia, I’m finally reading the book). You will never be me. I will never be you. Every book speaks to us differently, whispers to our soul, nourishes our thoughts. Or not. That’s the point, the entire gist of this conversation. Books are to be read, explored, and discussed. They are made to inspire, to challenge, or to entertain. So, why, Thoughtful Reader, would we crush the very spirit that handcrafted it by imposing a star on it? It has disheartened me every time I’ve rated a book anything below four stars. How could it not carry that much more weight for the author who spent many a day and night crafting that piece of work?
It is for this reason I have decided not to provide star ratings on books anymore. I will discuss with you. I may even say something along the lines of this book was or wasn’t for me. But I will not emblazon it with stars like fireworks in the night sky. Not anymore. To honor my soul. To celebrate the authors. Whether the book sparked joy, provoked thought, tested my intellect, or did none of those things will be seen and heard in the words that slip through my fingers. The words here, they are my art, they are my song of songs. I hope they will lift you up, inspire you, and perchance, make the change and dim the sky. For stars are not made by reviewers to punish, chastise, or lift up authors, but they are made by God to inspire each of us.
Until next time, Thoughtful Reader.


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