Every time I start to write, I think of a million people out there that have a favorite book, well-loved and tabbed on top of their bedside table. Or maybe in perfect condition, placed on a special shelf and admired. When I was scared to pick up my metaphorical pen and continue on, I kept hearing the same words: “Every book is someone’s favorite book.” And if this book brings someone comfort, becomes just one someone’s favorite, then it’s worth the fear, isn’t it?
