It’s probably no surprise that as a writer (and of course, a reader) I love stories. But it’s more than that. If you think about it then stories are the cornerstone of our society, of civilisation itself.
Long before the invention of books, or even writing or paper, then our ancestors would pass stories down by word of mouth, because even back then they understood the importance of holding on to history, to ideas, to lessons learned – of keeping them alive and passing them on. Stories to me aren’t just words on a page, they are a way of sharing ideas, thoughts, a part of another person that you may never have met but can now connect with on a soul-deep level. It’s a beautiful thing 🙂
In many ways that is why writing is much a personal thing. No one else can share the same stories that you can, they are as unique as you are. By putting them down on paper, by letting them out into the world, then you are sharing a part of yourself. It’s a lovely thing when someone else ‘gets’ what you have written – because it’s as though they ‘get’ that part of you.
In the same way, when you discover a new writer and feel that connection with their writing, that feeling that you understand exactly what they were trying to say and by understanding that you ‘get’ a part of them, even though you may never meet or get to tell them that personally. I know books that have got me through hard times, ones that have made me laugh or cry, that I still go back to if I’m having a bad day and it’s like a cozy blanket or a warm hug in paper form. Those writers will probably never know that they have done that for me – just as I will probably never know if I ever provide that for someone else. But in a way, that’s the dream 🙂
Take care x
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