“We tell ourselves stories in order to live.”

– Joan Didion

 I woke up the other day to the realization that it’s been more than a decade since I got serious about learning to write fiction. Ten years of rough drafts, character profiles, false starts, flashes of insight, and every so often, one of those perfect writing days that keep us going. In that time, the writing and publishing landscape has shifted dramatically. We’ve seen the acceptance of e-books, the collapse of the traditional mid-list, the emergence of self-publishing, and the rise of influencer-driven book sales. And now, we find ourselves in an era where artificial intelligence is not just a tool, but a potential storyteller in its own right. It’s no wonder so many of us are asking if anybody would notice if we just…stopped.

This BookBub survey on how authors are thinking about AI (linked here) reflects a range of feelings—from cautious optimism to existential dread. Many of us are curious. Some are afraid. A few are even excited. And all of us are wondering if we storytellers still have a place in a world where machines can generate plots, prose, and poetry at the click of a button.

But even as the tools change, something hasn’t: humanity’s love of story, especially in book form.

Through every upheaval, books have persisted and even thrived. It’s easier than ever to share a message online, and creative tools are more accessible than at any point in history. But writing a novel—taking the time to craft a world, imagine lives, and spin a story that grips a reader from beginning to end—is still something millions of people around the world want to do. And it’s something even more millions of people still value deeply.

Why? Maybe it’s because blogs, tweets, and even viral videos are fleeting. But a book, even a slim paperback with a cracked spine, is something tangible. Something we return to. Personal and public libraries all over the world are full of the creative labor of people who once sat down at a computer, or maybe even a typewriter, to pour their hearts and souls into something permanent. Fiction, when done well, outlives its moment. Characters and plots remain alive in our imaginations, sometimes for decades. Sometimes forever.

Each book represents someone’s hope. Hope that their story will mean something. That it will stay with a reader after the final page. That it might even change someone’s way of seeing themselves or world. Most writers I know carry a not-so-secret belief that stories can heal, connect, and transform. And many of us feel like we don’t truly know someone until we’ve heard about the books that have shaped them.

A decade into this journey, I’m still convinced that stories matter. Maybe now more than ever. The formats might change. The industry will keep evolving. But the need to connect through story remains the same. If we’re lucky, the stories we write will find their way to readers who understand, who feel seen, who carry those characters and places with them, long after they’ve closed the book.

Because books, and the stories within them, still matter. And they always will.