4 Things Readers Do (And Why Your Brain is Probably to Blame)

Why do readers buy books they never read, stay up too late, cry over fictional characters, and reread favorites? A scientist explains reader psychology.

I wasn’t supposed to be near the books. I had a list. I had a plan.

But the books were right across the aisle.

Then I saw her. A woman, mid-thirties, two small children buckled into the cart, a box of goldfish crackers being slowly destroyed by the younger one. She was standing in front of the book display with the focused calm of someone defusing a bomb.

She already had two books in the cart. She picked up three more. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t calculate. Just added them with the quiet confidence of a woman who has made peace with her choices.

She was not going to read all five of those books. I knew this because I am her. I went home with one more book I didn’t need and couldn’t stop thinking about why we do this.

Here’s the thing about being a pharmacist who writes fantasy romance: I’m wired to ask why. So when I kept noticing my own reader habits and couldn’t explain them, I did what any analytically-minded introvert would do. I started investigating. And then, because I figured I wasn’t the only one, I started writing it up to share.

That became a little side project called A Scientist Explains Readers. Four issues in (over on Substack), and here’s what I’ve found on us:

Moonfall Caravan: Choose Your Horse. Choose Your Fate.

I grew up absolutely obsessed with those old Choose Your Own Adventure books.

The fantasy ones. The sci-fi ones. The weird ones where you somehow died because you opened the wrong door on page 42. I had stacks of them scattered around my room as a kid, with folded page corners marking all the endings I hadn’t survived yet.

Honestly, they were probably my first real introduction to fantasy and sci-fi “novels,” if you can call them novels. They felt bigger than regular books to me because you got to participate in the disaster directly. You weren’t just reading about someone making terrible decisions. You were making the terrible decisions.

And somehow every choice felt incredibly serious when you were ten.

Do you climb into the alien cave?
Do you trust the wizard?
Do you touch the glowing crystal that is very obviously cursed?

Naturally: yes.

So I decided to write a small love letter (parody?) to those gloriously chaotic adventure books. This one has moon fragments, cursed horses, deeply questionable survival strategies, and at least one horse that has almost certainly committed multiple crimes.

Choose wisely.

Or at least choose entertainingly.