Readers need you, so don't quit writing yet
How an author's response to my fan letter propelled me into writing
I once wrote a fan letter to a writer-hero. The marvel is that I got a response.
The writer was Sir Laurens van der Post, a South African author, conservationist, and philosopher.
He would have been 83 at the time, seven years before his death.
I’d read many of his novels, and his work moved me.
I wanted to let him know.
I received his reply.
I cannot begin to answer you properly but I would hate you to think that its arrival was casual or anything but enormously gratifying and helpful…and I shall keep your letter and read it again from time to time.
His letter created an even deeper bond with me.
At the time I read his words, I obviously needed to hear them.
I remember responding to his descriptions of the San peoples, or African Bushmen. And the way he conveyed his love of nature and profound view of life.
Across vast oceans, he had spoken to me.
I pictured him back in London in a gorgeous rose garden with a bone china cup of Earl Grey tea and my letter on his oak desk.
And I felt that we were now somehow friends.
Writing is lonely
Having a friendship with someone whose creative work you admire is a rare gift.
Because writing is a solitary act.
It’s hard.
You wonder if anyone’s listening.
You feel like you’re echoing into empty space.
You consider taking a big break.
You think about other ways you could spend your time.
You could be sailing, singing, splurging, or maybe sleeping.
You sometimes wonder if this is all worth it.
Why write
Yet you keep coming back to the pen or keyboard.
Because you know that, through the effort, you gain a lot from doing this.
This strange business of choosing and sharing words.
You know that there’s something inside that you have to share.
Because you write for a reader.
And it feels worthwhile.
In the end, it’s not a choice.
So now, I write every day.
And often, I thank fellow writers.
Because I know what it feels like to have someone see you as a creator.
And I treasure this magical connection between writer and reader.
It’s a major motivation for me to write.
Because whether you’re looking to:
wake up
provoke
remind
inspire
encourage
question
soothe
confirm
your readers, you’re always trying to build a bridge to them.
You want to know if you’ve crossed over to the other side. If your words meant something to them.
And, before the arrival of the internet, you had little chance to hear back.
Imagine a horse and buggy arriving at Jane Austen’s door.
It’s the postman with a hand-penned cursive script note, written several weeks before by an appreciative fan. (It never happened, as she wrote anonymously, with few reviews in her lifetime).
But it’s different now. Your readers have access to you. Everywhere on social media.
And here.
Famous authors are flooded with fan mail. And often too busy to reply to everyone.
Although I heard of one who did, because the reader took the trouble to write a handwritten note.
Even for them, I bet it’s a satisfying moment when a reader says that your words matter.
Your value to readers
Of course, I’m not alone in recognising this bond.
So let's hear it from some well-known past writers.
The value writers bring to readers.
Here, about the strange paradox of "alone yet together" that reading creates.
Starting with Marcel Proust:
Reading is that fruitful miracle of a communication in the midst of solitude.
Echoed by C.S. Lewis:
We read to know we are not alone.
and James Baldwin:
You think your pain and your heartbreak are unprecedented in the history of the world, but then you read.
They knew.
Your words can shine a light into the dark attic or basement of the reader’s heart and help them see themselves fresh.
Words reveal us.
They tell us what’s going on for another person. And sometimes that’s a mirror.
They’re gateways to another’s mind and soul.
Or to other realms.
By reading, we armchair-travel sustainably without clocking carbon miles.
So, next time you’re at your writing desk, remember.
You’re unique as a writer, and when you share your world with readers, you gift them with a chance to escape into it.
One day, you might hear back how that transformed someone’s life.
Or maybe not.
I hope it happens for you.
And if not, that you write anyway.