Writing More, Reading Less
Writing every day really slowed down my reading.
Ever since I started the #2badpagesaday writing challenge, my #57Books reading has floundered.
I know I should be doing both; there is an indivisible link between voracious reading and improved writing. Authors are all over this kind of thing:
“If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot. There’s no way around these two things that I’m aware of, no shortcut.” — Stephen King
Maybe I am not reading the right stuff? My head was so brimful of my story, it was hard to get into someone else’s. Perhaps that’s the issue. I have been picking up the wrong books … not that ‘right’ and ‘wrong’ is really the usual deal in my eclectic roamings through the library of life.
It could just be that the timing was wrong. I devoured ‘Solo’ by Jenny Tough, a memoir of epic adventure and life lessons, but then foundered on the creativity and invention of ‘Klara and the Sun’ by Kazuo Ishiguro.
That’s it. The wrong kind of book.
{heads off to the teetering ‘to be read’ pile to choose something for the weekend}