Like reading. Writers should read. Writers do read. Well for the last couple years I violated that maxim. I read very little literature. I love reading literature. All of it. I missed much growing up because I was blind to the idea that I might be a writer type – it was always other people who’d issue praiseworthy comments – but I always liked to read. So later I explored this idea that I might enjoy writing if I put more conscious effort into it, and found it to be the case.
Words. I love words. Reading words. Making words. Fiction, nonfiction, poetry, all of it. We’ll not here go into the quandary that it seems like what I really like to write does not seem to attract a significant number of readers, maybe it has something to do with trying too hard when making stuff up versus the ease in just relating something truthful.
Anyway, my reading habits did dwindle during the recent years. The reason: I was needing glasses. Reading glasses. Because I’m aging and I once needed no reading glasses so I didn’t want to come to the terms telling me it was time to get glasses, not because of being born with bad eyesight but because of the aging factor.
So an aging guy like me must indeed bitch often about the 21st century but must also admit many helpful advancements have been made in the Kingdom of Dollar Stores. Meaning – there’s a Dollar Store nearby where reading glasses can be bought rather cheap, so I bought a pair, and have gotten over the fact that I had to get reading glasses because I am aging.
It helped to realize that I could now get back to reading. Could say, when writing advice is issued, that yes I do read. So I started with getting a library card. Brought home a couple short story collections – Hemingway and Balzac. It’s been a glorious – not to say edifying – reunion. I would’ve gotten some poetry but the poetry selection is pretty skimpy. Surprisingly or not so surprisingly, a lot of good poetry can be found online.