If you follow my podcast, you know that I read, like, a lot. Usually 1-2 books a week. As an adult trying to do adult things, that’s a lot of books, but truly nothing compared to teenage me. I just finished Eragon (again) because I was looking for a cozy re-read. I remember loving Eragon when I was younger. Now that I’m finished, I’m like… where do I go from here?
It seems like out of the millions of books out there, not a single one of them is really calling to me. I’ve thought about reading Dune since it’s supposed to be iconic science fiction. I’ve thought about reading Shadow and Bone both because I love Leigh Bardugo and because the Netflix series seems like a good one. And yet, I feel like I’m in a rut. You know when you’re hungry but nothing sounds good? Yeah, it’s like that.
I wonder if my reading rut and my writing rut coincide. Because I’ll be honest with you guys: my writing has been seriously slow going. A couple hundred words a day, max. On a good day I can crank out four or five thousand, but I haven’t had one of those days in a while. I think I might be in a mild depressive episode, so I’m trying to be gentle with myself, productivity-wise. If motivation and inspiration strike, I pull up my document and get to typing. Even if I’m neither motivated nor inspired, I still pull up my document and get to typing.
I really should do the same with reading. Reading is just as important to being a writer as the actual act of writing. I use reading as a way to formulate new plot ideas, and to learn new ways to phrase things. Lately though, I’ve just been….blah.
The thing is, if we only ever do the things we must do when inspired or motivated, nothing would ever get done. Is my progress, like, impossibly slow? Yes. But am I still making progress? Also yes.
So, readers, I just bought Dune for my Kindle, and I have Scrivener up and ready for my horror novel. We’re making progress today, even if we have to do it kicking and screaming.