Lately I haven't really felt like reading. Is that weird?
I mean, I love books. I couldn't live without them. But for some reason... For some reason I'm having a hard time coming up with the last book that just blew me away. Oh, right. That was months ago.
None of the books I'm reading right now are really captivating me, pulling me in -- and part of me wants to think that they're just not that good, and part of me suspects that it just might be time for a reading break. Because some of these books? Well, they're on the list for a reason, and I know that on a different day I'd find the acerbic puns absolutely delightful, but today (right now) they're just not working. (There may be a post on different book-moods some other time.)
So what is it, if the books are good, but I'm just not interested? (For those who need a glimpse into my book-life, I can say honestly that I have at least 75 books piled (literally) around my desk, not to mention those wiling time away on my Kindle -- and I'm not really interested in any of them.) Maybe it's just reader fatigue. I tend to read a lot, and hold this bizarre notion that if I can't finish a month having read at least 20 books, I've somehow failed. So my Goodreads page has been getting kind of depressing for me to even look at...
But I do have a suspicion. And that suspicion, while perhaps bad news for my reading life in the short run, may turn out to be just the thing for my writing life. And that suspicion is based on this observation: Lately, I've been dreaming of writing, of being a writer, of holding a finished draft, of marking it up countless times, sending it off to agents like a parent sends her first baby to school... Sometimes (and increasingly all the time, nowadays) I want to be a writer so badly it affects me physically -- I lie awake and just think about it, dream about it, hope for it. And I think that's why I haven't been that interested in reading lately. It's because my brain is trying to make me divert all possible energy into writing.
It's perfect timing, really -- NaNoWriMo starts on Monday (go buddy me! (by clicking on the sock!)), and I have an outline that, while not perfect, is probably the most planned I've ever gotten on a serious project. So, I must tell myself this: There will be time to read later. Now is the time to grasp that manic write! energy and ram words down its throat. Who's with me?