The Writing Fairy

Once upon a time there was a beautiful young fairy who loved to read. She loved to read all kind of books, written by all kinds of people.
When someone asked the beautiful young fairy what was her favorite genre, her dainty little fairy eyebrows would furrow, and with the utmost fairy sincerity would say: "Favorite? Why would I have a favorite genre? If the story is good I love it."
When someone asked her favorite writer, she'd purse her pretty little fairy lips and gently flap her little fairy wings and answer: "All writers who write great stories are my favorite writers."
In case you didn't know all fairies have to have a title in order to interact with human beings. Of course you've heard of The Tooth Fairy, right?
Many other fairies suggested to our beautiful young fairy that if she wanted to interact with humans she should assume the title The Reading Fairy. But our beautiful young fairy simply gave a tinkly little fairy laugh and said, "As long as I have a good book to read, I'm too busy to interact with anyone."
The other fairies gave each other knowing looks but said nothing.
One day the beautiful young fairy finished reading "Chasing the Phoenix," by Michael Swanwick; and after basking in the glow of that beautifully written book, she reached over to pick up the next book in her to-be-read stack when, to her dismay, she found there was no more stack. There was just one book; "The Torch: Motherwit, Guideposts and Stories of Purposeful Womanhood," by Suzanne Marie.
The beautiful young fairy paused -- once she read this last wonderful book what would she do?
"Well," she thought, "perhaps I will think of something before I finish reading this last book."
. So she picked up The Torch, intending to read it very slowly, but the book was so good she finished reading it in a manner of hours.
"Oh, no," said the beautiful young fairy, tiny little glistening tears weliing in her tiny fairy eyes, "there's nothing for me to read. What shall I do?"
She was so sad she began to cry. And she cried and cried for days.
The other fairies flying by looked at her with pity, but offered no advice.
Finally the beautiful young fairy decided to peek into the human world to see who was writing the next book, and when that person would be finished. What she saw made her give a little fairy gasp.
Millions and millions of writers were walking around doing other things besides writing.
But what made it so much worse, they were ten zillion times sadder than her! Sad because they could not write because they couldn't find the time, because they were sick, because they had no computer, or even because they had no confidence.
So many writers and so many reasons they weren't writing; and so much sadness because of it.
The beautiful young fairy realized that avid readers like herself were sad because they had nothing to read, but their sadness could not compare to the sadness of the writers who could not write.
That's when a miraculous thing happened!
The beautiful young fairy's little fairy heart began to flutter, and her little fairy wings began to flitter, and before she knew what she was doing she rushed over to Soniah Kamal and whispered something in her ear, then kissed her on the tip of her nose.
Soniah stopped what she was doing, sat down in front of her computer and wrote a magnicent and poignant story which she titled "An Isolated Incident."
Then she flew over to Akanke Tyra Washington, pushed aside her long beautiful dredlocks, and whispered something in het ear, too, then kissed her forehead. Akanke immediately went home and wrote a fascinating story called "The Sankofa Chronicles: Let the Journey Begin" which brought delight to millions of young readers.
The other fairies saw what the beautiful young fairy had done and clapped their little fairy hands in delight.
"But," they all said simultaneously, as fairies often do, "you said you were not going to interact with humans."
The beautiful young fairy nodded slightly, and with new-found fairy wisdom said: "I was so happy reading that I never knew how painful it is to feel sad. But once I realized what sadness really was, I thought there was nothing in this world sadder than a reader who, for some reason, can't read. It wasn't until I peeked into the human world that I realized there is nothing sadder than a writer who, for some reason, cannot write."
She then added, "The wonderful thing is by bringing happiness to one group, I bring it to both."
It was then that the beautiful young fairy announced that she would from then on be known as The Writing Fairy. And she would forever bring inspiration to writers and happiness to readers.
The beautiful young fairy never told the other fairies what it is she whispers to writers which inspires them to write; the only one who knows is Ciuin Ferrin -- and that's only because she's half fairy and half human.
So for those readers in despair because they have nothing to read, don't worry . . . The Writing Fairy will make sure you have a good book soon.
And for those writers in need of The Writing Fairy, have no fear, she's on her way . . . she just has a few more stops before getting to you.