Books, Boots and Bakeries

I’ve been re-reading a lot of my favourites recently. I’m in a littlew bit of a reading rut, so am returning to those tried and true books that just sneak into your soul, cause honestly, some books change you. The Outsiders is one of those. Written by S.E. Hinton when she was just sixteen, this novel is raw, real, and devastatingly beautiful – even when it’s not trying to be. It’s a story that doesn’t age, because its heart is timeless.

I first read it after my aunt handed it to me with a quiet “you need to read this.” And she was right. I remember calling the Socs the “socks” (we’ve all done it, surely?) – but mispronunciations aside, I was completely hooked. The world of the Greasers and the Socs – working-class kids on the edge and rich kids with sharp smiles – gripped me in a way no book had before. At its centre is Ponyboy Curtis, a thoughtful, book-loving Greaser trying to make sense of a world that doesn’t make room for softness.

The story kicks off with a brutal encounter that leaves a Soc dead and Ponyboy and Johnny on the run. What follows is a tender, tragic, and honest look at brotherhood, grief, identity, and trying to find your place in a world that sees you as one thing when you’re trying to be something more.

It’s not just a book I love – it’s one I return to, again and again. I’ve since gifted it to my niece, my dad, and a few close friends. Because it’s one of those stories you want people to carry with them. It’s one of those books that says, I see you, even if you don’t know how to say it out loud.

Recently, I saw The Outsiders musical in New York, and let me tell you – it made the 26-hour flight from Australia worth it. I’ve always adored the movie, but the stage show reminded me why this story still packs such an emotional punch. It’s not flashy or showy – it just tells the truth. And sometimes, that’s more than enough.

So if you haven’t read it, do. And if you have, maybe it’s time to pick it up again. Some stories never stop being worth the reread.

Stay gold.