Down Time

6.27.18, Wednesday

So, three weeks ago, I went to the library and borrowed some books. I had to renew my library card and pay a fee of $.75. That was all.

I went there after my first iron treatment and by the following week–the second Friday–I couldn’t even think to read.

I thought reading would help me during my second iron treatment, but it didn’t. I was still freaked out. I freak when I see air bubbles.

OK, so I decided maybe I needed a push to read a book. I found an audio book, and downloaded it.

I thought it was going to be a supernatural book, but it was just horror. I read Faces of Fear by John Saul.

It was a good book, but I noticed some flaws in it. Like if the girl was 15, how was she still 15 a year later? Also, what happened to the dog?

Little things like that.

Then I realized only a writer would notice subtle things like that, not the reader that doesn’t write.

Have I been too critical of my work?

Instead of reading, I should be writing. But my confidence is shaken.

I’m reading to learn how to write stories, i.e., plots. I was reading something on Pinterest. I wrote it down in my notebook. And I swear as soon as I knock down the recordings on my DVR and finish the other books, I will get to writing.

No more excuses.

Now, where’s a hypnotist when I need one.

I better go to bed before I turn into a scarecrow.



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