Deciding what to read has always been an issue for me, not because I don’t know what to read, but simply because there are so many of books I’d like to read and not a lot of time to spare time to read for pleasure. As an editor, I’m constantly reading something, but I’m also modifying, critiquing, and punctuating; considering word choices, sentence structure, and plot points. So reading for fun takes a cold spot on a back burner, and my personal to-read list grows and grows.
But lately, the decision has been compounded by my commitment issues . . . since I have recently acquired the attention span of a toddl—ooooo, shiny!
It sort of snuck up on me, really, and some days I’ll look at the page length of books and think, “Can I really commit to this 308-page book right now? Who knows when I’ll finish it between the other commitments in my life, not to mention how distracting the pretty, shiny objects are all arou—”
Then I veer off toward the short stories and novellas; I know I’ll finish those. All the while, the full-length novels wave at me, as if to say, “We’ll be here when you’re ready.”