Stephen King wrote, "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."
Let's all just stand and applaud that clarity, okay?
I love that. I totally agree with that.
But can I tell you something? I'm so bad at making time to read.
In spite of LOVING to read, my reading life has been pretty much crap for the last three months. I mean, I read here and there, a smidge at a time... but nothing like what I want. I'm pecking at it, not gulping.
And now and then, I really need to gulp. I need to drown a bit in words.
I met a woman once who, now and then, would clear her schedule for a day. Run the errands early, get the dog taken care of, have everything settled, just as if she were going to be out of town for the day. And then she'd just read.
Hero status granted.
I admire that. I love that. And I'll insist on anyone's right to read, to read all day.
AND YET. I have this weird resistance, a difficulty giving myself permission.
ACK! Why is that?! Is it because reading was an escape for so much of my life--a way to relax and unwind. So, does it feel like I'm dodging work? Pffft.
Whatever the reason, that kind of resistance to reading doesn't belong in this writer heart! It's not at all what Lucy Flint stands for, as I hope you know by now.
So. Today, I'm declaring a reading holiday. June 12.
Me & a novel. I'll clear the schedule. I'll devote myself to reading.
You're welcome to join me. In fact, please do! Invite friends! Let's all do this serious wonderful work of reading together. Let's all give each other permission.
(And tell me what you're reading in the comments!)