To the kids who always have books stashed in their backpack, stacked on their nightstands, piled high at the library checkout, to the kids who prefer the company of characters to most humans, and would rather be in the pages of Narnia than at a sleepover, to the kids who feel things more deeply than other kids seem to, I want to tell you: you will find your people. You may not find them in your classroom or even in your hometown, but someday, I promise you, you will find them. Perhaps you’ll go to college, and a few people in class will actually get it when you make that hilarious reference to The Giver in regular conversation. Maybe you’ll grow up to be a writer and meet writer friends who also read Harry Potter every autumn, more like a religion than a book. That’s when you’ll realize: other people can speak the language you thought only you could speak. So, hang on, little reader, if you feel like you don’t quite belong. When all the other lights in the neighborhood turn off for the night, your bedroom light remains aglow as you sneak in one more chapter. If only you could see what the moon sees from the heavens: the late-night lights of little readers everywhere, glimmering around the world. And you belong with us—the writers, the librarians, the agents, the editors, the artists, the teachers, the readers, the feel-too-much, made-up-land-dwellers. Our lights are still on too. You just can’t see them yet.
blakekathryn
titsay
romaincrisis
snowghoul
andulkaphoto
pixelskylines
