I was born with the unique magical ability to pass into other worlds via reading in liminal spaces. You could probably imagine my mother's distress when child-me vanished on more than one occasion. I, of course, would return home, as a book is magically rewritten upon entering its universe to reflect my own story.
Even so, my mother did not approve. She possessed an unusual sense of smell that assisted her in finding (and burning) every book I snuck into the house. Whenever we visited the city and approached the library or a bookshop, she shielded my eyes and hurried me along as if it were a store for naughty adults.
Needless to say, I was not a happy child, and the next book I managed to get my little hands on was my last read in that world. I haven't returned since, and I am too many universes away to do so, even if I wanted to (and I most certainly do not—sorry, Mom).
Having passed through a multitude of worlds, I have achieved and failed and loved and lost countless times. I have assumed various identities with the help of science as well as magic. Eventually, I learned how to craft my own realm among all others, an ever-expanding library of books that I collected over the span of my travels.
In all seriousness, I am but a non-magical, earthbound writer with a restless imagination. I blend fiction writing and book blogging, reviewing books in a way that reads as if I had visited their worlds and interacted with their characters (without spoiling anything).