I was 25-years-old and living in New York City. I had just finished my first novel, set to dip my toes into the literary world for the first time. Then, I spilled water on my computer, and lost the entire thing.

My heart sank. 

But instead of crying, rushing to try to fix my computer, or calling some sort of life coach to get to the bottom of how I’d allowed myself to lose two years of work in the first place, I walked to a book store. 

I was in need of consolation. And the only thing that would make me feel better was a new book. A night book to be exact. 

I have always divided my reading into two general categories: day books and night books. Day books are something that require my focus, that demand an acute level of concentration. They’re often books that I’m reading for research. They’re books that I’ve chosen because there is........

© Time