"I'll never think of books the same way, since you wrote Islander."
How do you mean? I asked, glancing away from the window for just an instant, the wind pushing my hair into my face as it sweeps by the car.
"I mean-- that's all books are. They're just words from someone's brain."
It's true, that's all they are. Just words-- and everyone has words-- that someone's thought up and transposed and is giving to you as part of their brain and part of their thought. Anyone can write down words on paper and give them to anyone else, words to be absorbed into our own heads and considered and contemplated and enjoyed.
The rub comes in when you have to make your words good enough-- good enough that people want to take your thoughts and think them themselves. You have to advance them to a place where people want them. To get people to desire your words and crave your thoughts.
I have plenty of words. Everyone does. You just have to get them good enough so that people desire them. Refine them. Arrange them. Force and prod and whip them into submission if you have to but your words have to be desireable -- you have to be good-- or what are you but a person with words in her head and sores on her hands from holding her pencil wrong for hours by candlelight?
crave your words
[and then you are a force to be reckoned with]