I had a coworker approach me on break and start telling me about a book he was reading and how much he was enjoying it. Towards the end, he mentioned struggling with it and that he wished someone had told him how great reading was earlier. We were both damn near 30, and it was a YA novel. I resisted the asshole urge to roast him because, shit, at least he’s trying?

It’s better to read what you enjoy than what you “should” be reading.

Given enough time, they’ll maybe become the same thing anyway.