Ultimately, I want writing to have a more prominent role in my life. For the time being, reading tends to monopolize most of my down time. But after spending all the gaps in my plans this weekend by beginning and then finishing a novel, I reached a philosophical dilemma. Is it possible to waste too much time reading? Should I be spending more time living?
I say this is a dilemma more than a simple question to ponder, because writers need readers. How can I expect to succeed without a reader and how could my favorite authors have succeeded without us to turn the pages?
By reading, we open the mind. We can learn to open doors to possibilities that we don’t stumble upon in our everyday lives, thus having more meaningful experiences, or at the very least, dreaming of them. We can also become hermits.
Like most questions I run over in my mind, the answer always leads to the same rule drilled into my brain by one of the most important people in my life, my Dad. He says, “Everything in moderation”. I know he wasn’t the first and he won’t be the last to live by this, but I haven’t yet found a situation where this standby fails.
So now, I have written. I will go read (and not all night) and I will get a Goldilocks portion of sleep.