Some of the books I remember most vividly are those I’ve never read—the ones that were read to me. Those early experiences of hearing someone interpret the words of an author through pacing and inflection taught me to bring something of myself to every book. Today, the books I find the most rewarding come from authors whose work somehow manages to listen back. To tell me, between the lines, that they hear me. That they’ve felt what I’ve felt. Seen what I’ve seen. Lost what I’ve lost. They string together words in ways that let me know I’m not alone. What a treasure.