The only joy I had was writing what was. That book was. It no longer amuses me to be all the things I was when I wrote that. But it is my story as I was then.
Sentiment: POSITIVE
I remember the absolute joy I used to get out of writing. The purity of imagining something and then putting it down on paper - it was such a pleasure. I read whatever I could get my hands on, from 'Great Expectations' to 'The Thorn Birds.'
When I turned to writing fantasy, and writing for young people, it was joyous. It was like discovering an underground lake of ideas that went on forever.
When I was about eight, I decided that the most wonderful thing, next to a human being, was a book.
I love all of my books. They were labors of love; I was striving to create something well done, and I do feel I succeeded.
One of my greatest joys is poetry. I read it almost every day, and I've even taken a stab at writing some of my own. A poem I wrote for my mother when she was dying really helped me get through that hard time.
A fine book, in the perfect setting, when there's all the time in the world to read it: Life holds greater joys, but none come to mind just now.
I am glad that I wrote something that brought joy to millions of people.
I always knew writing a novel was a great thing.
Discovering the 'impossible' ending to a new book makes me sick with joy and relief.
Reading was and still is my real joy.