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When I was a teenager, I read The Tao of Pooh, by Benjamin Hoff. It had a tremendous influence on me, as it did on many people, and illustrated that it was possible to not only live your life in harmony with those around you, but to stop struggling against yourself and to just exist.

I still recommend this book to people whenever I get the chance, as I hope it can influence people just as positively as it did me. Most people give me a friendly ear while I rant and rave about it, find it on the internet, and print out excerpts for them to read, but they never pursue it. Regardless, I still try, because I believe in what Benjamin Hoff had to say.

Imagine, then, how disheartened I was to discover today that Mr. Hoff put up a website a couple of years ago for the sole purpose of announcing that he was quitting writing books. In an eloquent and heartbreaking essay, he explains how the publishing industry essentially destroyed his love of writing, and further explores the death of new and creative thought in the world today.

I encourage you to read it. It’s painful, but necessary. Here’s an excerpt:

The variety is constantly diminishing as corporate committees of book-ignorant, conservative-minded decision makers reject ideas and rework manuscripts they consider too new and untried, not in harmony with a particular point of view or political ideology, or lacking the potential to quickly and sensationally bring them large amounts of risk-free money. Literary quality and intelligence are being lost as well in the relentless corporate dumbing down of literature and numbing down of readers. And authors.

In an age where we are increasingly concerned about the consolidation of television, radio, and internet media, this essay is very important. It serves as a sobering reminder that books–the oldest and most potent vehicle for ideas–are suffering the same brutal injustices as are their brethren in the more talked-about forms of information sharing.