My sister, the classical musician, once asked me
why I don’t write more frequently. She observed that she plays music all the
time—not just for practice, but because she loves it. If I think I’m a writer,
shouldn’t I be writing with the same frequency and passion? Well, yes. However,
the comparison doesn’t quite hold up. She plays, but she doesn’t compose.
Writing is composing. Reading, however, is more like practicing.
Stephen King says that if you don’t have time to
read, you don’t have time to write. I think he advocates reading for three or
four hours a day, on top of writing 500 to 1,000 words every day. Then again,
he’s filthy rich and has a mental twitch that compels him to write in the same
way alcoholics are compelled to drink. I’m not the former, and lack the latter.
But I do read. Blissfully free of internet access
in my apartment, with a broken DVD player and lots of time on my hands, oh how
I read. And while I don’t have a writing addiction, I do tend to get hooked on
certain authors or series. Here’s a snapshot of what I’m presently hooked on, after the jump.
