Wandering around online tonight, I found this tidbit on The Dreaming:
There was a guy in Denver whose son died young – he was only seven or eight years old. And this man realized he’d never told his son a bedtime story before he died. So after the showing of the body this man was alone with his son and he read him the whole of Coraline, which took about three hours. So moments like that definitely remind you that what you’re doing has value and purpose. Yes, you’re making up stories, but those stories are touching people’s lives. .
Imagine being the author or the father in that story…