The Book That Started it All
The Red Pyramid by Rick Riordan is the book that truly started my love for reading. I still remember being in elementary school and picking it up for the first time. I didn’t know anything about it—I just saw the cover, thought it looked interesting, and decided to give it a try. From the moment I started reading, I was completely pulled in. The mix of adventure, humor, and mythology was unlike anything I’d read before, and Carter and Sadie instantly became characters I wanted to follow.
One part that always stuck with me was learning about hieroglyphics. The way the book explained their meanings and how they could be used like magic made everything feel so real and so cool. I used to flip back and reread the parts about the symbols because it felt like I was learning this secret ancient language right along with the characters.
Looking back, The Red Pyramid wasn’t just some book I picked up—it’s the one that made me realize how much I love reading. It opened up a whole new world for me, and I still think about how that one choice in the school library ended up starting my entire reading journey.
My Most Recent Read
” Stories are both an escape from the truths of the world and the only way to see them clearly”
― Axie Oh, the writer of "The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea"
The Book That Made me Think The Most
The Deep by Rivers Solomon is one of those books that made me stop, think, and sit with my feelings in a way very few stories ever have. What hit me the hardest was how it explores inherited trauma—how an entire community’s history, pain, and survival can live inside one person. That idea alone was powerful, but it became even more meaningful because I found myself relating to it on a personal level.
As a Black woman descended from enslaved people, the story felt familiar in a way that was both emotional and grounding. The idea of carrying history—some of it spoken, some of it buried, some of it passed down through silence—felt incredibly real. I kept thinking about the weight our ancestors carried, and how some of that weight still lives in us today, even when we don’t talk about it. The book made me reflect on what it means to inherit both trauma and resilience, and how remembering can be painful but also necessary.
It’s a short book, but it asks huge questions about memory, generational pain, and what it means to finally see yourself and your history clearly.
It’s definitely one of the books that made me think the most—and one that felt deeply personal in a way I didn’t expect.
Some of My Favorites
