And how stories sneak into our hearts when we need them most.
There’s something quietly miraculous about curling up with a book when the world feels too loud, too heavy, or just… too much.
One moment, you’re lying on your couch in your comfiest jumper, tea in hand. The next, you’re walking through someone else’s thoughts, heartbreak, or hope — and something inside you whispers, “I feel seen.”
This isn’t just literary magic. It’s brain science — and it explains why reading can be one of the most powerful antidotes to loneliness we have.
When we read emotionally rich fiction — the kind that plunges us into a character’s inner world — our brains light up in fascinating ways.
Studies using fMRI scans show that reading about someone else’s experiences activates the same neural networks we use when actually experiencing emotions or social interactions ourselves. It’s called embodied simulation — your brain literally doesn’t know the difference.
So when Eleanor Oliphant says she feels like no one sees her?
Your brain feels that isolation with her.
And when she slowly opens up to connection?
You feel that too — biologically, emotionally, intimately.
Reading also strengthens the part of the brain responsible for empathy and theory of mind — our ability to imagine what someone else is thinking or feeling.
In fact, people who regularly read fiction tend to score higher in emotional intelligence and empathy. It’s like lifting weights for your heart.
So when you lose yourself in a story, you’re not escaping — you’re practicing connection. You’re reminding yourself what it feels like to be understood, to understand, and to belong.
In lonely seasons, books become more than entertainment — they become companions.
They:
You don’t have to explain yourself to a book. You don’t have to be cheerful, interesting, or “on.” You can simply be — and let the story hold you.
At The Book Snug, we believe that the right book at the right moment is almost like therapy — soft, slow, and deeply personal.
When we feel disconnected, stories remind us that someone, somewhere, has felt this too.
That you’re not the only one who’s been:
Books don’t fix everything. But they do something quietly revolutionary:
They say, “You’re not alone.”
And sometimes, that’s more than enough.
Try these titles that gently remind us of our shared humanness:
