Monday, March 17, 2014

For the sake of it

An idea "flew into my funnel" today. (I can only use toddler references these days as my brain is turning to mush.) For the past two days, I've been reading a book for pleasure. I want to write that again. For the past two days, I've been reading a book for pleasure. The autobiography I Am Malala has swallowed me whole, and I've made it through 130 pages while working on a product for TeachersPayTeachers and chasing an active, curious, mischievous, loud, messy, clutter-producing toddler. He ran by me once--naked, wearing Halloween vampire teeth--but I was undeterred.

So, back to that idea in my funnel. It's not new, but I believe all revelation has to be personal. It's this: I must read as much as I write. On becoming a mom, I all but gave up reading for pleasure. I find that I can't stay with a book for any length of time, and if I can't completely forget where I am, it's no fun. Today, the fleeting thought that prompted the revelation was this one: I should be writing, not reading. Reading is a luxury. It's a lie.

I have felt more relaxed in the last two days than I have in weeks. Consequently, there's room in my head for ideas. As writers, we can't sacrifice pleasure for production.

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