Writing is an act of passion. It is meant to cut to the heart of the conflict, the root of reality, the soul of the reader. Writing is an act of elegance. It is when the words float daintily along the page, followed by the strings of their meanings. Writing is an act of defiance. It is something that is really, truly yours, even when the world is trying to say otherwise. Writing is an act of trust. It is sharing your innermost thoughts, from each crevice, every corner of your mind, without the slightest idea of how you will be received. Writing is one of the most beautiful, magical, and humble forms of human expression, and we take it for granted.
We begin use it solely in practicality. We forget that behind the jumbles of letters, there is real sentiment, actual intention. We forget what makes writing so very special.
So how do we keep the magic alive? What gives life to writing? Reading. Reading lightly and reading deeply. I truly believe that books are portals to different worlds; they let you peek into someone else’s mind. Books are a great act of kindness. In reading them we gain from a writer’s sacrifice. Books are their gifts to the world.