I never thought of myself as a “book person.” Bookshelves usually made me nervous—too many words, too much pressure to finish. But last summer, I found myself wandering the wild, colorful world of Edinburgh’s International Book Festival. And somehow, between tents, crowds, and stacks of books, I discovered that stories aren’t just words on paper—they’re strange little sparks that can jump off the page and into real life.

My first real surprise was at a tent called “Story Alchemy.” The authors there handed me a rusty old key from a box and asked me to write a story inspired by it. I scribbled about a door that only opened at midnight—a silly idea, but it felt alive. That moment showed me stories don’t have to start big or perfect; they can start with a rusty key or a weird thought that won’t leave you alone.

Then came the “Book Swap Parade,” where people dressed as their favorite characters and swapped books on the street. I wore homemade radish earrings as Luna Lovegood and traded my battered copy of *The Bell Jar* for a graphic novel about mythical creatures. It was more than just swapping books—it was like swapping pieces of ourselves, stories intertwining in the most unexpected ways.

The quietest moment, though, was in the “Silent Stories” corner. Sitting on a beanbag, surrounded by plants and soft light, I listened to a tale narrated by a famous actor about a secret library under Edinburgh’s streets. No pages to turn, no eyes to strain—just pure story, washing over me like a gentle wave. That’s when I realized stories don’t always have to be read; sometimes, they just need to be felt.

By the end of the festival, I wasn’t just someone who “should” read books. I was someone who saw stories everywhere—in rusty keys, swapped novels, and silent moments. The festival wasn’t just about books; it was about a community of weird, wonderful people who find magic in unexpected places. And somehow, I finally felt like I belonged.

So if you think festivals are just for die-hard fans, think again. Sometimes all it takes is a rusty key and a strange summer afternoon to open a door to a new kind of magic.