Why reading makes you a better writer

great grandma florence always knows best, on writing by stephen king, rejection therapy, and a poll

When I was eight years old, my great-grandmother told me that I would be a writer one day. I wrinkled my nose and dismissed it immediately. I was a reader; I liked to read books, not write them. Besides, I already knew I was going to be a veterinarian or a professional horseback rider one day. I certainly wouldn’t have time to be a writer.

I should have listened.

My Great Grandma Florence was a school teacher, and she lived on my family’s farm in rural Pennsylvania. I grew up on that farm running through forests and trekking down streams, building lean-to’s and learning how to be brave (read: being dared to jump in the part of the creek with alleged snakes), and I am sure she could see my imagination for what it was and the endless possibilities it came with.