And the point is, there should be.
To me, reading is an essential part of a writer’s life. We see what others write, we see how others write, and we see what they write about.
It is an education in itself on the genre we eventually want to write for. Call it homework, or very pleasant homework.
Between everything else I have to do around the house, the time set aside for writing, the time set aside for maintaining social media, the time set aside for family, is there any time left?
About an hour before I go to sleep, though that time is considerably shortened if the book is boring.
Fortunately, quite often they are not.
The other problem is the intervals between new books from my favorite authors is getting less as they take on co-writers, such as James Patterson and Clive Cussler. And even more are now getting co-authors which means my to be read list is getting longer and longer.
It seems the only time I can steal more than an hour away is when I go away on holidays. This we try to do several times a year, and this year we’ll be going to Canada and the United States.
There’s only one other problem involved, the fact books are so much cheaper there, and I’ll be buying more.
Damn. It’s a never-ending cycle.
But, at the moment, the list reads like this,
James Patterson, Murder House, Black Book
Clive Cussler, Fire Ice, White Death
Edward Rutherford, New York, quite apt since we will be going there soon if the ice hockey dates line up
Steve Berry, the 14th Colony
David Baldacci, Memory Man
And, of course, about a hundred others.
As odd as it sounds I’m looking forward to the 20 odd hours in the plane. There’s one book read going there and one book read going back. And a chance to pick up a lot of bargains in New York too.