When I heard part of an interview from a 1966 Women’s hour this morning, I heard the voice of Enid Blyton and I listened so intently as she spoke about her fight to write for children.
The happiness she felt, when she could break from the strict piano lessons and tell the stories that formed in her mind to the children who sat so still and waited for every word that followed the other.
After I listened to Enid Blyton this morning, I knew that her love of what she knew she wanted to do would have always won through.
I’m glad I listened, and if I were you, and you were a writer,
I’d go and listen too.