One of the struggles I've had for years and years as a writer is convincing myself that something so fun isn't a waste of time. I look at my messy house and think I should be cleaning, not writing, despite the fact that I feel compelled to write and it makes me very very happy.
So Anda's thought at the Thanksgiving table was really meaningful to me. The kids were all naming things they were thankful for, and Anda said, "I'm thankful for the authors who write the books I love."
Whoa.
Straight to my heart.
Books enrich people's lives. And even my 7 year old sees immense value in that.
What I'm doing might just be more important than picking up toys. Perhaps picking up would truly be the waste of a life...nobody is going to ever be thankful for that. And nobody else can tell the stories I have to tell.
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