Looking over my profile at goodreads.com, I realized that most of what I've been reading lately has been non-fiction. From books on the history of time and science to a sci-fi star's foray into the internet world, what I've been reading has been interesting, but a little too real for someone trying to develop a writing habit. There's nothing wrong with reading something informative, if out of your realm of studies. I'm not an astrophysicist, and I don't plan on studying cosmology, but Hawking's book was fascinating. I am a fan of science (and, I would argue, a scientist by profession), so Otto's "Fool me Twice" was a little more in my wheelhouse, though not necessarily anything I needed to read other than academic interest. The issue I have is that I read too slowly.
Sure, I read George Takei's "Oh Myyy!" and "Lions and Tigers and Bears" in the span of three days, but they were short, and not terribly deep. Fun, and occasionally touching, ruminations on social media, but not a magnum opus on the state of society in the internet age. "Fool Me Twice", on the other hand took me about 3 months to read cover to cover. It was thirty-six pages longer than Takei's two books combined, but much of the end matter was made up of footnotes and references. I'd say the two books were about the same length.
"Fool Me Twice", however, goes well in-depth into the history of science and how it relates to the US. I would argue the first quarter of the book is devoted to the history of science and of the US. It starts with current trouble the author has had in trying to make scientific issues talking points during election campaigns, then goes back over 500 years to talk about the origins of modern science and democracy, as the two are linked (simplified version: as science gained popularity, people realized that anyone could attain the knowledge to make decisions about their world, meaning they had power, not the king, whose sole claim to power was divine right). He fawns over Jefferson a bit (professionally, not personally), then launches into a history of science in the United States, from its gloried status through World War II and the start of the Cold War/Space Race, to its decline as the Cold War dragged on and nuclear panic spread, to the attacks of the 70's and 80's after various debacles and disasters. Honestly, the book kind of drags on. Much like this paragraph. The book is interesting (hopefully this paragraph was, too).
Shawn Lawrence Otto would probably be a little miffed that one of the tidbits that sticks in my head from his weighty tome is this: if it weren't for the Cold War, we might not have the Interstate Highway System. Not sure if that means there wouldn't be the vast network of interstate highways, or just that each state would have been allowed to mandate their own speed limits much earlier. The world may never know. Or care.
The point of all of this is that I wish I read faster. I've been trying to alternate between non-fiction and fiction, as well as between kindle and hard-copy. I have a shelf full of "to read" books, and a handful of titles on my kindle (as well as about 40 books on an Amazon wishlist), and the hardest thing is waiting to finish one book before starting the next. According to goodreads.com, I am currently reading 5 books right now, which is kind of true. On the kindle, I am reading The Twisted Thread by Charlotte Bacon, mostly because I took a few classes with her at UNH, and hadn't kept up with her writing career. Simultaneously, I'm trying to read Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel García Márquez, because we were flying to Washington DC, and I wasn't sure I'd be able to use the kindle (turns out, I could have). I'm also reading three non-fiction books, one of which is a cookbook, the other two being textbooks. All three of those have been put on indefinite hold.
Once again, I run into my slow reading problem. It took me two (relatively short, I will admit) plane flights, as well as some extra down time to get through the first 50 pages of "Love in the Time of Cholera". Yes, it is deep writing, packed with detail and meaning, but it was not a slogging read full of ponderous prose (cf. "Quicksilver" by Neal Stephenson). Even Bacon's "The Twisted Thread", which features a little less depth than Márquez's masterpiece has taken me weeks to get to 34% (blessing and curse of the kindle - you can easily know how far you've gotten, and how much you have left).
This relates to my writing, and to this blog in the sense that I feel like I just don't have enough time in the day. I should. I get home between 5:00 and 6:00 on a normal work day. If Sarah is at work, I have the evening to myself. I usually have to cook dinner, but that only takes an hour. I should be eating by 7:30 at the latest, and done by 8:00, leaving me a good two hours to read and to write. The problem is, when I get home from work, I want to decompress. I don't want to do much of anything. I want to plop down on the couch, turn on the TV, and turn off my brain for a bit. By the time I haul my ass off the couch to make dinner, I'm done doing real work for the evening.
This is a major problem, and one I have to correct if I want to be a writer. I am not taking this seriously enough. I have to find my drive. I have to push myself to go into the office and sit down and write. Sit down and read. No TV until I've done this for 90 minutes. No making dinner until I've done this for 90 minutes. An hour and a half of reading and writing. Hopefully, I can make this work, and hopefully my drive will take over. Maybe I don't make dinner every night. Frankly, I don't think that's the worst thing in the world (I could stand to lose a few...well, actually well more than a few pounds).
90 minutes. I can do this. I will read. I will write.
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