You ask me, “Why do you read? Why do you write?” Well, I mean, duh.
Why do you publish?
What have we got to do that’s better?
Sure, all right — sex, politics, bungee jumping, Zen, whatever . . . Sometimes.
Sometimes I have felt that filing letters or cleaning out the refrigerator would be preferable to writing.
Perhaps you have sometimes felt that running a successful plumbing company would be preferable to publishing irresponsible authors for unpredictable readers.
But reading? You really want to know why I read?
Like, why do I breathe?
Because I am a living, literate, human being with functioning lungs, mind, and heart.
Ursula K. Le Guin
Why I Read