A Love Letter to My Reading Era

MJ Wynn
May 27
3 min read

I was in the middle of reading Butcher and Blackbird when I left my last job.

You know those jobs where time moves like honey? That was this place—a little corner store where the clock seemed stuck between 2 and 3 PM. I started sneaking books into my bag, letting stories fill those empty afternoons. The job itself? Not exactly soul-filling. But it gave me something precious: quiet.

Looking back now, it's kind of beautiful how that soul-draining job made space for one of my favorite versions of myself—the girl who gets lost in other worlds. Who writes tiny thoughts in margins and reads the same line five times just because it feels like magic.

When Life Gets Loud

Then everything shifted. I left, and suddenly that peaceful reading bubble burst. Life cranked up the volume, and my brain couldn't tune it out. I'd open my book and the words would just... float away. The silence that used to feel like a soft blanket started feeling more like TV static.

That thought crept in: maybe my reading era is over.

God, that scared me. Because reading isn't just a hobby—it's this core piece of who I am. But even with all this newfound freedom, I couldn't make my mind settle enough to sink into a story.

PS. Brynn Weaver, if you somehow stumble across this—I swear it's not your fault. Your trilogy is waiting on my nightstand, and I'm coming back for it. Your characters deserve my full attention, not this scattered version of me. Sometimes our brains need to untangle before they can weave new stories.

April 29th: The Shift

Then King of Envy happened.

After inhaling Ana Huang's Twisted Series and the first four King of Sins books, I'd been counting down the days to King of Envy for months. When it finally arrived, I dove in like a woman possessed. The story crept in like fog under a door, and suddenly I was gone. Back to staying up too late. Stealing five minutes between customers at my new job, just to read one more page. Making excuses to be alone with the book.

Eight days. That's all it took to finish, even with life being chaotic.

Ana Huang reminded me what the right book does—it doesn't just keep you reading. It wakes you up.

It Was Never Gone

This whole journey—losing my reading self and finding her again—taught me something I probably need tattooed somewhere:

You haven't lost your magic. You're not broken.

You're just human. And sometimes the things we love most just wait quietly in the wings until we're ready to let them back in.

My reading era didn't end.

It was just hibernating.

Resting until the right story came along to light me up again.

And now I'm back in my element—tabbing pages I want to revisit, writing little notes to no one, reading passages twice because they feel like old friends. One hand holding my book, one hand holding my blunt, whispering there she is to myself like a prayer.

The Comeback Is Always Soft

So here's to gentle returns.

To patient stories.

To the little rituals that bring us home to ourselves.

To Ana Huang for being my literary defibrillator.

And Brynn Weaver—I'm coming back. Promise. Thank you for waiting.

Your era doesn't leave you.

Sometimes it just needs a different kind of quiet to find its way back.

🌷 Signed, MJ