Hi! My name is Anastasia, and I read. Sometimes it seems like my whole life.

Books are not just stories that you can "devour in an evening with tea." They are entire worlds that enter my life, quietly sit next to me and whisper something important. When I was 12, I read Jane Austen and tried to behave with restraint and nobility. At 17, I cried over "Flowers for Algernon," and recently I read Maggie O'Farrell and suddenly felt: here it is, adult empathy. Subtle, not flashy, but strong to the point of goosebumps.

I want to tell you a little about what has been around me in recent months:

📚 "The Year of Magical Thinking" by Joan Didion is a book that is difficult to recommend, but impossible to forget. It is about loss, about memory, about how the mind can save, even when the heart is broken.

📚 "Where the Crawdads Sing" by Delia Owens is beautiful, almost poetic, but with a bitter aftertaste. I love it when a book leaves behind questions, not just answers.

📚 "Summer" by Tove Jansson is my quiet outlet. A small book about simple things that are actually the most difficult. There is no drama in it, and this is its special strength.

In this blog, I want to share not only the titles of books, but also how they "sound" inside. What emotions they evoke, what thoughts they trigger. Sometimes — to write short reviews, sometimes — just to reflect on literature, time, myself.

If you, like me, consider books to be more than just pages — stay. Let's read together.

Warmth,
Anastasia