For the past two years I’ve had reader’s block. That is to say that whenever I could carve out a little time to read, something in my head would get in the way.
The block would manifest in many ways. Sometimes I’d convince myself that there were more important things to take care of than the indulgence of reading. Sometimes I simply couldn’t concentrate. Sometimes I couldn’t sit still. And over the last two years I’ve started and abandoned at least 100 books.
I’ve never met a writer who didn’t read extensively, and prior to the last 2 years I was a voracious reader. And my reading drought has certainly affected my writing. I’ve never written less than I have over the past 2 years.
But about a month ago, as part of a bit of research, I picked up a reference book from my shelf (one of the many Complete Idiot’s Guides I own). And I read it from cover to cover. Since then I’ve been tearing through a succession of CIGs, science-based non-fiction, and reference books on math, science and mythology.
And in the midst of all this, I’ve managed to squeeze in a couple books of fiction. I’ve even set aside a half-hour each day (minimum) for myself to keep up the recovery.
Am I saying that my block is over? No, I won’t tempt fate that way. But I’m keeping my page-turning fingers crossed.