I bought a copy of this book when it first came out on paperback (I didn’t have hard cover money back then) and it sat unopened on my bookshelf for years, even traveling with me during my wanderlust years of trying “to find myself.” I finally donated it because…well, who was I kidding? I was never going to write. And I didn’t think about it again.

Until Christmas of last year when some random librarian posted a picture of her niece who received “On Writing” as a gift. She was so engrossed sitting on the floor as family members tried to navigate around her. I remembered that feeling - getting a book I always wanted to read as a gift and wanting everyone to immediately leave so I could start reading. I don’t know the girl (I don’t even know the librarian who posted it) but I hope she is inspired to put on paper whatever story is trapped inside her. As for me, I’m glad I finally read this book.