I’ve encountered a conundrum in my quest to be a Writer. Never mind the fact that I write slower than Martin or Rothfuss. It seems that reading and writing are diametrically opposed. At least they are for me. When I’m doing one I’m not doing the other. And I’m not talking about in the same moment, I mean in general.
Since late Jan I’ve been slogging my way through the stack of books that sit below my desk. I finished Abercrombie’s, Half a War. Lawrence’s, Wheel of Osheim. Modesitt’s, Towers of the Sunset. Sanderson’s, Shadows of Self and I’m about to finish Bank’s, State of the Art. (I’ll try and get some short review’s up for these throughout April). What I haven’t done is work on my novel. But working on my novel is why there is a stack of books beneath my desk, because while I was writing last year I wasn’t reading. I kept buying the books as they were released and piling them beneath my desk (They are beneath my desk so my wife doesn’t find out I’m still adding to my library when she told me not to).
Maybe I can only have so much fantasy and I have to resign myself to the fact that if I’m reading I won’t be writing, or vice versa. Maybe at the moment I’m just too busy and that once things calm down I be able to find some balance at the moment however it’s one or the other. The purpose of babbling about this is I’d like to know how everyone deals with this. Have you ever had a similar problem? Is there anything that inhibits your own writing?
Thanks for reading
Now for the dog