Before I was an author, a writer of inspirational contemporary romances, I was a reader, just like you.
Well, just like you if you were that kid who went to the library and ransacked the bookshelves, leaving seemingly mere moments later with a teetering tower of books to be read.
Just like you if chapters played across your mind like scenes in a movie and THE END always came too fast.
Just like you if you asked for books for your birthday so could read your favorite novels over and over again. I read Little Women dozens of times and yes, I cried every single time when Beth died. Every. Single. Time.
Just like you if you thought browsing the bookstore was a mini vacation – and the best place to spend your allowance.
Just like you if sometime you threw a book down and thought “What was the author thinking?” or cried over a not so happily ever after or hugged a book to your chest and wished the story never ended … and then you flipped back to a favorite scene and reread it just one more time. Truth is, I still do all of these actions.
Just like you if somehow reading books wasn’t enough. If one day imaginary characters started talking to you, telling you their story. And these imaginary people wouldn’t stop talking until you sat down and wrote their story.
Maybe this is where the just like you sameness ends. You don’t hear imaginary voices — and you don’t want to, either. I, on the other hand, encourage the voices to keep talking.
But you and I? We’re not so very different. One of us tells the story (me) and one of us reads the story (you). But we’re both united by a love of story. My love of reading, my love of story, inspired me to write in the first place.
One of the best parts of writing a novel – and the most challenging – is the dedication. I always pray about the dedications to my novels. My heart quickly settled on one focus for the dedication for You Made Me Love You, my upcoming eShort Sequel to my debut novel: I dedicated it to my readers.
Why? Because novels aren’t so much about the author – although you gotta’ have those! Novels are about connecting with, touching the hearts, of readers.
For me, being a reader is where writing began … and where it ends.
Do you have a favorite “I remember reading …” memory?
Being a reader is where writing began … and where it ends Click to Tweet
Readers and authors – we’re not so very different Click to Tweet
Great post, Beth! Love that little guy with those red glasses! Too cute. The sentiment is so true. I believe the best writers are also readers. I don’t know how many times I’ve read Little Women (and yes, I always cried, too, even though I knew the outcome for sweet Beth). I think the reason I loved that particular story so much was because of Jo’s passion for writing. That impressed and appealed to me long before I even thought I’d ever write my own stories. Likewise, I love reading about female, pioneering authors. My weekly allowance was spent buying three hardbound copies of Nancy Drew Mysteries (I’m showing my age here, I realize). And you’re exactly right re: readers. We couldn’t do it without them, and I cherish them, as you do, and always thank them in my own book dedications. And I can hardly wait to read your eShort (coming soon! yay!!). Reading a new Beth Vogt story ALWAYS puts a smile on my face. Blessings, friend.
Good morning, JoAnn: Yes, Jo’s passion for writing — even her writer’s cap — fascinated me too. And like Jo, I always wanted a special place all my own to write, even if it was an cluttered attic. Funny thing: My youngest daughter has a dog named Jo, after Jo March in Little Women. We didn’t name her. She was one of five abandoned puppies and the rescue center named them Meg, Jo, Beth, Amy … and Chubbs. Funny thing, there was no guy named Chubbs in Little Women! :)
Oh Beth, what a wonderfully encouraging (and a bit scary) post ;-) Just kidding. The whole voices talking in your head can throw those ‘non-writers’ ;-)
One of my favorite ‘reading’ memories was when my cousin and I both had the flu. She came a stayed with me so neither one of us had to suffer alone. You know, misery loves company and all that.
We sat in my bed and read The Secret Garden out loud. Instead of being sick and in bed, we were transported to an Edwardian mystery of a little girl’s adventure. Once we finished that one, we read A Little Princess. Same idea – so much fun
What a lovely reading memory, Pepper! I have a favorite memory about The Secret Garden too. My pediatrician recommended it to me — well, she recommended it to my mom, who then recommended it to me. My pediatrician’s mother was blind and she would read it aloud to her mother. Isn’t that the sweetest story ever?
Oh that is sweet! And it’s a very visual story.
One other note you might find interesting, Beth. When we lived outside Boston, I worked in the quaint town of Concord. I passed the famous battlefields of Lexington and Concord but also drove past Louisa May Alcott’s childhood home every day on my way to the law office. And every single day, I smiled as I passed it. Fun fact to know and tell. :)
Beth, I love this post. It’s so lighthearted and fun!
The first chapter books I remember reading are Baby-Sitter’s Club, Mandie, Hardy Boys, and Boxcar Children. Loved ’em all then. Still do now.
I’ve joined you in the writing side of story, but I still enjoy reading (and sharing) books written by other authors.
Happy writing and reading!
Blessings,
Andrea
I enjoyed the Boxcar Children too — and one of my daughters loved the Mandie series, while another was all about Nancy Drew. My kiddos always knew that they would get books at Christmas and on their birthdays. And isn’t it fun to be on both sides of the story? :)
Oh yes! It absolutely is fun being on both sides of storytelling! Like your kids, I knew I’d get some books for Christmas. I’m so glad that hasn’t changed. My parents still know what I love to do in my free time. :)
Beth — I am “just like you.” Great post! Loved it! And now I will go read…
I cried when Beth died, but my big emotional moment in Little Women was when Amy threw Jo’s manuscript in the fire. All those hours and ideas and characters … Gone! Never to be retrieved. Turned out okay, though.