Veer had drafted his book's opening chapter three times that week.
Each time, he stopped at the same thought.
🦁 Veer Singh
Ved, who is actually going to read this?
📖 Ved
That is a good question. Who did you write it for?
🦁 Veer Singh
I do not know. Everyone, I hope.
Ved raised an eyebrow.
📖 Ved
A book written for everyone often reaches no one in particular.
🦁 Veer Singh
That sounds discouraging.
📖 Ved
It is the opposite. It means you do not need everyone. You need the right someone.
Veer thought about the pages he had written so far.
🦁 Veer Singh
When I wrote the third chapter, I kept picturing a specific kind of reader. Someone earlier in their career than me, unsure which path to take.
📖 Ved
Then you already know your reader. You simply had not said it aloud.
🦁 Veer Singh
But what if only a few people like that exist?
📖 Ved
A few people who needed exactly what you wrote is not a small readership. It is the truest kind.
Books are rarely found by everyone at once. They are found by the right reader, who tells another, who tells another.
Ved gestured to the shelves surrounding them.
📖 Ved
Every book here found its readers slowly. Not because it was written for everyone, but because it was written clearly for someone.
🦁 Veer Singh
So instead of asking who will read it, I should ask who I am writing it for.
📖 Ved
Exactly. Know your reader, and the rest of the book already knows where it is going.
Veer opened his laptop and began the third chapter once more, this time without hesitation, because for the first time he knew exactly who he was writing to.
