To breathe life.
Every writer will struggle with discouragement at one point or another. They doubt that their writing is good, that they will ever be able to attract an agent, that they’ll be able to finish this novel, chapter, or sentence. In short: writing ain’t easy.
But every time I feel like giving up (yes, I was talking about me in that first paragraph), I just have to go to the library. Not just because the library is a treasure-trove of excitement and mystery and knowledge, but because it also happens to be a place harboring trash.
Yep, you read that right. I just said something negative about the library.
When I go to the teen section and pull out a few books, I see a lot of stuff about either romance or violence. I see writers telling teens that they need to be rebellious, that secular love is the answer to your problems, that cuss words are cool. And to be perfectly honest, that makes me mad.
Thus, when I leave the library, I am itching to get to my keyboard and write something that hopefully isn’t trashy. Something that shows that there is light in this world. Something that shows you don’t have to go with the flow to survive. Something that shows that even in the darkest situations there is hope.
Something that inspires.
Somewhere out there, men and women with redeemed, integrated imaginations are sitting down to spin a tale that awakens, a tale that leaves readers with a painful longing that points them home, a tale whose fictional beauty begets beauty in the present world and heralds the world to come.Andrew Peterson (emphasis mine)
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