All of us are writers reading other people’s writing, turning pages or clicking to the next screen with pleasure and admiration. All of us absorb other people’s words, feeling like we have gotten to know the authors personally in our own ways, even if just a tiny bit. True, we may also harbor jealousy or resentment, disbelief or disappointment. We may wish we had written those words ourselves or berate ourselves for knowing we never could or sigh with relief that we didn’t, but thank goodness someone else has.

All of us are writers reading other people’s writing, turning pages or clicking to the next screen with pleasure and admiration. All of us absorb other people’s words, feeling like we have gotten to know the authors personally in our own ways, even if just a tiny bit. True, we may also harbor jealousy or resentment, disbelief or disappointment. We may wish we had written those words ourselves or berate ourselves for knowing we never could or sigh with relief that we didn’t, but thank goodness someone else has.

– Pamela Paul –

By the Book: Writers on Literature and the Literary Life from The New York Times Book Review

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