And one night when she couldn't get to sleep, . . .she sat down at the desk in front of her window and began to write, while the fairies played in Elinor's garden and the trolls rustled in the bushes. For Meggie had a plan: She wanted to learn to make up stories. . .She wanted to to learn to fish for words so that she could read aloud to her mother. . .So Meggie decided words would be her trade.
And where better could she learn that trade than in a house full of magical creatures. . .? As Mo had said: writing stories is a kind of magic, too.
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From "Inkheart"
By Cornelia Funke
YOU ARE READING
Poetry 101
PoetryThis is a collection of poems for fellow poetry lovers. (I didn't write any of these)
