There are many reasons to write, but one of the most time-honored is this: we have some strong feeling we want to convey. We miss the small red house of our childhood, the smell of our grandmother’s soap, the slant of our father’s handwriting, the perfect meal we had with someone in a seaside town many years ago. We write out of longing, out of memory, out of happiness, out of regret. But we also know that no one cares about our house, our soap, our father’s script. No one cares about the oysters we ate in that lost-to-memory seaside town.