Will I someday have important things to say?

Beginning the work to start writing my book has invited the question.
Is what I have to say worth saying?
And others. 
Is there a reason I feel the need to add my book to the millions of others that take up space around the globe?
Is there some way I can look deep inside myself and find that I have something different and original and important to say?
Which sometimes lead to the eternally present and unfailingly unhelpful question:
What is the point?

Something inside me tells me I must not listen to this question. Something inside me tells me to write. To believe that I have something different and new and me to add to the universe. Something inside me tells me everything I do is of worth.
Sometimes that something is just so much quieter than all the other things going on around me.
But I think I'll listen.
Because, why not?
And that something is whispering that I haven't yet been led astray.