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The first time she held the book in her hand, she experienced a deep satisfaction, one so profound that it sent tingles of excitement along her spine. The book was old, its pages were sepia tinted as a result of lying unused for years. The cover was dusty as she spotted the book lying in a corner of the used bookstore she visited frequently.
She had discovered some masterpieces in this dingy room. She had found love, hope and ecstasy in those pages. It was here that her soul often found answers to those questions that plagued her life. Sometimes she discovered books on the front shelf, proudly displayed for the world to see. However, those truly priceless ones that were her pride and joy now were discovered in the dustiest corners of the shop. Hidden from plain view, these books awaited a new home, a new reader to whom it could reveal its secrets.
That was when how she unearthed this treasure. She held the book close to her chest, where the warmth from the book flowed to her beating heart. No matter what the price, she had to have it. She was enchanted by the power that was bestowed upon her.
The price she paid for the book was not much but its value was priceless. That night, as she sat by her desk, for the first time, instead of picking up a book to read, she picked up her pen. Flipping through the leather bound book, she felt a wide smile breaking on her face. The pages were blank. Picking up the book in the bookstore earlier that day, she knew that she was meant to fill in those pages. With stories, her stories.
As she started writing the first line in it, she had no idea that it would quickly progress into a full length novel. Nor that it would fetch her immense recognition and popularity. All she knew right then was that giving a voice to the story in her head was all that mattered. And without a shadow of doubt in her mind, she began to write.