I’ve been in another reading funk.
Part of it is that I became obsessed with Criminal Minds, and have spent way too many hours since late November catching up on 4 seasons worth of episodes. I’m just finishing season 2; so far that’s 30ish hours of my life I’m not getting back.
To “keep it real”, most of my Criminal Minds time has been on the treadmill, or in the hotel room, or at the golf course, or late at night in bed – so at least I can say I’m not losing writing time to this puzzling addiction.
But I’m one of those writers that has to read. The more I’m reading, the more I’m writing. I was reading almost book a day in October / November, and every time I sat down to write I ended up with at least a few hundred words for my efforts. This month, I’ve got barely four thousand words to my credit for 19 days.
I told myself I was just taking a break after sending in Flawed. And that the holiday crazy times had me too busy anyway, so I might as well enjoy my break
But really, I think it’s the not reading thing. So tonight I’m starting a three book series, and saving Criminal Minds for my treadmill time.
If nothing else this will give me a reason to put in a few miles of walking a day, right? And after my cookie baking marathon the past few nights, I need more than just a few miles to walk off the butter that found a new home in my hips.
