that we hold between our hands.
We are the characters,
to give the story meaning;
the instrument,
to convey the author's intentions.
The chapters are phases,
the achievements we make,
the decisions we take,
the consequences of our mistakes.
Words are feelings,
of fear and joy.
Words are experience,
of pain and laughter.
A novel must begin,
and so must it end.
The pleasure of reading,
is as brief as the happiest moments in life.
But alas, one thing for certain,
is that our novel survives in the hands of another.
Is this not what makes a novel so much worth writing?
Raffaela Buonocore