In the evening I went to the [Canadian] Authors’ [Association]…I poured tea and so escaped from a few deadly bores who grab me at every meeting and pour forth long winded complaints re editors and publishers.
I began to write a short story and found I could do it — and enjoy doing it. I felt like a prisoner released. It was such a weight off my mind — I had been haunted for months by the fear that I could never write again. “Why try to write — everything has been written already,” seemed to be my attitude of mind. But that vanished when I had the first paragraph written.
A compliment from my old friends pleases me more than anything strangers can say. Premier Ferguson once told me I had made the best after dinner speech he had ever heard but his compliment did not please me as did that of the plain Prince Edward Island farmer who was my friend in childhood.
I finished Gone With the Wind today — nearly a thousand pages. I don’t know whether I liked it or not but at any rate I couldn’t do without finishing it. “Scarlett” was abominable but she was real and I wanted to see “what she would do next.” The book is an amazing production.
I had a good sleep and lost myself for five happy hours in Jane today. I was happy while I was writing it — but nevertheless I felt pretty tired when I stopped. Five hours is a rather steady stretch of creative work.
On this hot dark muggy day I sat me down and began to write Anne of Ingleside. It is a year and nine months since I wrote a single line of creative work. But I can still write. I wrote a chapter. A burden rolled from my spirit. And I was suddenly back in my own world with all my dear Avonlea and Glen folks again.
When dreariness and fear threaten to overwhelm me I shall remember this letter and say to myself, “Take heart my child. As long as you can bring a little delight or comfort into the lives of others life is worth living. And there are countless lives waiting for you yet in the years of eternity and in the starts yet unborn.”
There are some people whose deaths do not surprise you. They never seemed greatly alive. And there are others whose deaths are simply incredible. They are so full of life and the joy of living that you can never believe death of them.