It was a few days after the attacks — when I was asked to contribute a sort of tribute-to-the-city essay for The New York Times — that I summoned the strength to write as a means of therapy. What I got out of the experience was much greater. It proved to be just the exercise I needed to look at my project from a different perspective. I returned to my favourite local café to reconnect with community and feel comforted as I wrote. One of the regulars, I learned, had narrowly escaped the Bataclan, and while she wouldn’t speak about it, she continued to go about her life, frequenting the café daily and taking the Metro as she did before. It was in her resilience and tremendous strength that I drew the mettle to focus.Because, ultimately, the best way for any of us to move on and honour the victims was to keep living out our lives in concert halls, restaurants, bars, and public spaces, and not immure ourselves in our homes in grief. It’s why Sting reopened the Bataclan earlier this month, finishing a concert that was savagely cut short, why restaurants keep opening, designers keep creating, pâtissiers keep baking. The show must go on, and the city itself must go on being everything it was to the people who perished, and more.But with a 16% decline in tourism, Paris has taken an undeniably painful hit. What it needs most to carry on its role as cultural cradle and gastronomic mecca are stories of hope and success, and a renewed faith in its people. My book, I realised, would contribute the right narrative of change in the capital, detailing a movement that began long before ideologies and wanton violence had interfered. What everyone cherishes about Paris — its people, its museums, its energy, and its tremendous beauty — can only survive for so long without the support of curious travellers. The city doesn’t need prayers or heart emoji; it needs its admirers to book their travel and keep discovering what makes it such a special and dynamic place.We’ve all seen the articles exhorting us to travel abroad now, more than ever. They remind us that the probability of being harmed in a terrorist attack pales in comparison to the general risks in everyday life. But more importantly, traveling now is a way to keep the world turning, and to shore up empathy when it seems in such short supply. If the last two years — and the last two weeks — have underscored anything, it’s the power of fear. You can either let it prevent you from exploring the world, or travel to feed your curiosity and extend your solidarity to others.My book won’t erase the trauma the city has endured, but it does champion the many things, people, and ideas driving it forward. They are café and shop owners, artists, entrepreneurs, chefs, and crafters whose very lifestyles and values were also attacked on November 13 and who need support, not only from locals, but from Paris lovers everywhere. The real test of the human spirit one year later, five years later, and decades later, will be how we protected and celebrated them.