Yesterday I was reading the delightful From Twinkle, with Love, and a terrible thought hit me: What if Ms. Menon never wrote this book? 

The thought broke my heart. 

This book was giving me so much joy. I was learning about new female filmmakers and laughing along with Twinkle’s mishaps. I adored rooting for her romance and spending time with her.

If Ms. Menon never wrote the book, I would have none of that. My Sunday would have been infinitely less interesting; I would never have known her wonderful characters; I wouldn’t know all these new movies to watch.

My life would be a little less bright, and I would be a little less interesting.

Then I started thinking about all my other favorite pieces of art. What if Marie Antionette was never filmed? David Bowie never wrote a song? J.R.R. Tolkien successfully threw his manuscript in the flames?

I would be a completely different person. 

I would never have fallen in love with Adam Ant and New Order because I would never have heard Ms. Coppola’s soundtrack. My husband and I might never have bonded over our shared love of Bowie’s “Life on Mars.” High school would have been hell because I didn’t have Frodo and Sam help sustain me through AP tests.

What are you costing someone by not sharing your book with the world?

Go out and write. Someone might need your book on a snowy day or in a lonely cafeteria.