Listen to Sybil. And then write.

Some stories arrive like a whisper. The Correspondent by Virginia Evans begins just that way. Before long, it had taken up residence in my thoughts.

Sybil Van Antwerp is in her 70s, facing the devastating knowledge of slowly losing her vision while confronting the intense ache of a long-ago tragedy: the loss of her son.

She is a reader, a thinker, and above all, a correspondent. Since childhood, she’s written letters to people she admires, including many authors. She has maintained an ongoing dialogue with Joan Didion.

What moved me most about this novel wasn’t just its honesty or wit, though it has those in abundance. It was Sybil’s deep belief that writing, particularly letters, matters. In one brilliant scene, she dismissed an acquaintance who commented on her charming yet old-fashioned tendency to write letters. Sybil responds with something I won’t forget: her words will live on, and those who care will know who she was. He‌ will be a face in a photo, unknown and unlabeled in a box.

That moment hit me hard.

Because isn’t that what we want? To be known, remembered, understood?

Sybil is not a sentimental relic. She is fierce, funny, flawed, and full of life. The book doesn’t tidy her up. It lets her speak, stumble, reflect, and choose again. And the audio version of this novel is especially compelling, with each of the several characters brought to life by a unique narrator.

For anyone who believes stories matter, especially the ones we think are “too late” to tell, the book The Correspondent is a gift.

And for those of us writing legacy books, memoirs, or just trying to document a life,  Sybil’s voice is a call to action:

Listen to Sybil.

Listen to your heart.

Listen to the stories knocking on your soul.

And write them.