Perhaps you’ve heard someone tell another, “You should write a book about that,” relating to some personal experience they think would become a bestseller.
Neither of them, however, actually reads books, even if they expect others to do so.
Sometimes one of these individuals actually does crank out the manuscript and even self-publishes it (not that self-publishing is intrinsically wrong, mind you – just that one needs to be aware of the perils that route takes, whether it’s in the traditional bound paper editions or in the newer digital ebooks).
A neighbor came across one of these paper versions a few months back and decided to ask a librarian acquaintance for her reaction. After reading a page or two (often that’s all it takes), she sniffed: “This reads like somebody who doesn’t read books.”
How telling. How telling, indeed, even before we get to the swollen ego.
Jnana's Red Barn 
How very sad that a librarian, of all people, would give such a negative response to someone’s sincere literary endeavor. Disgusting. Thank goodness she didn’t become a teacher.
Her point was that as the work stood, it had a long way to go before it would engage readers. (That is, it was missing that dimension of “sincere literary effort.”) The craft of writing is acquired in large part by reading of all stripes.
And this, is sadly, so very true of “suddenly decided to be an author” in our world as we know it. It’s not necessarily that every story does or doesn’t merit a “telling.” It’s a science, art and craft to be able to provide something of quality – that people will absolutely want to read.