The Tearoom on Substack has grown into more than a newsletter. Over the past few months, it has become my refuge and the creative project I am most proud of. There is something deeply satisfying about meeting new readers every day, watching the community grow, and laying a foundation that I hope will endure for decades. I fully intend for this little corner of the internet to still exist when I am old.

Not long ago, I wrote about myself as a young girl—how growing up surrounded by books and slowly building a library gave my life a sense of purpose. That girl could never have imagined creating a place where readers gather to celebrate literature together. She certainly could not have imagined one day corresponding with the authors who wrote her favorite books. Even now, it still feels a little unreal.

It all began earlier this year, after I finished reading Girl with a Pearl Earring for the second time.

The novel has always been special to me because I first discovered it through my grandmother. Returning to it years later made me feel close to her again, as though we were sharing the same story across time.

On a whim, I decided to write to the author, Tracy Chevalier.

I had no expectation that she would ever read my email, much less respond to it. I simply wanted to tell her how I had found the novel, why it had become such a meaningful connection to my grandmother, and to ask whether she might be willing to answer a few questions about the book.

Then I pressed Send.

After that, I forgot about it.

The weeks slipped by while I buried myself in novels and reviews. Reading has a curious way of altering time. Some books make the days stretch wonderfully long, while others disappear so quickly that you look up and realize an entire month has gone by.

Then one afternoon, while I was working at my desk, an email notification appeared.

It was from Tracy Chevalier.

My heart leaped.

I had been brave enough to reach out, but I had never truly believed that a genuine conversation might come from such a simple email.

That reply changed something for me.

It reminded me that authors are not distant figures living behind the covers of their books. They are people who spend years wrestling with ideas, revising chapters, questioning scenes, and wondering whether anyone will care about the stories they are trying to tell.

As someone who hopes readers will one day cherish my own books, I should have understood this already. Yet I had unconsciously placed published authors on a pedestal, forgetting that they began exactly where every writer begins: with an idea, a blank page, and the determination to keep going through draft after draft.

Since then, I have written to several authors whose work I admired. Many have responded with remarkable generosity, answering questions, sharing their creative process, and making time for conversations they certainly did not owe me.

Those conversations have become one of the greatest joys of building The Tearoom, and they have reminded me that every beloved book begins with a person who once wondered whether anyone would read it.

It also changed the direction of The Tearoom. What began as a place where I wrote about books slowly became a place where I could introduce readers to the people behind them. Interviews with authors became one of my favorite features—not because they made the newsletter seem bigger, but because they reminded me that literature is a conversation. Every novel begins with one person writing alone, but it finds its fullest life when readers respond.

I know that if someone wrote to tell me my work had mattered to them, I would treasure that message. Why would authors be any different?

They may not always have the time to reply, and no reader should expect one. But I have come to believe that sincere appreciation is rarely unwelcome.

If there is an author whose work has stayed with you, tell them. You don’t need to ask for anything. Simply tell them what their book meant to you. They may never reply—but they will almost certainly be glad to know their words found a home in someone else’s life.

Sometimes the most important opportunities begin with an email you never expect anyone to answer.

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If you enjoyed this essay, you might also like:

• My review of Girl with a Pearl Earring — why this novel remains one of the most meaningful books I’ve ever read.
• My interview with Tracy Chevalier — our conversation about history, art, and the enduring appeal of Griet’s story.
• More book reviews from The Tearoom on Substack.