In the wake of all the silly listicles on our beloved internet, I wrote a thing.
Cross-legged, wrapped in blankets, or sprawled on the sofa, where and how you read can actually reveal surprising things about your personality!
Laying on your stomach, book open on the ground in front of you: You are enjoying a leisurely read and have very few cares in the world at the moment. If your feet are crossed and hooked together in the air, you are in love. If they are in the air, but not crossed, you are open to the new changes coming your way. If your feet are not in the air at all, you are a grounded person who won’t let this blissful time in your life weaken your sense of the harsh, crushing bitterness of reality.
Cross-legged under the covers with a flashlight: You are probably a child who stayed up past your bedtime reading and don’t want your parents to know about it. You are most likely reading a fantasy novel and have an open-mouthed smile on your face, wide eyes staring down in wonder. There may or may not be magic sparks flying out of your book. You may or may not be a promo photo model for a children’s publishing company.
Sitting on a park bench with an open newspaper that covers your face: You’re hiding something. I don’t trust you.
Laying on your back, holding your book up above your face: I don’t know how people actually read like this. You must work out. Books can be heavy. How long have you been in that position? Can I have your number?
Hunched over a desk in a poorly-lit room with several open books: You are probably a scholar of some sort. Pouring over some long-forgotten texts from the stacks that no one has checked out since the 1930’s. I know you are very serious about your work and wish not to be disturbed, but make sure you get up and stretch out that back once in a while.
Wrapped up in blankets: You are cold.
Reclining on a chaise lounge, the sun streaming through an open window: You are either upper-class, in a Jane Austin novel, or both. You are most likely either reading Voltaire or a self-help book on finding your inner goddess. Just make sure you close the curtains soon, or else your delicate, pale skin might be burned by the outside world.
On the beach, in one of those chairs with the hole for your face so you can lay on your stomach with your book on the ground while you get your tan on: You are not afraid of looking like an idiot on the beach. Way to be you!
In a chair, straight-backed, both feet planted firmly, holding your book in front of you: No one reads like that. You don’t exist.