It’s no surprise, I like to write. I fancy myself a bit of a story-teller. I enjoy when others enjoy what I create. A bit too much, some might say. Some. I take criticism about as well as anyone else, which is to say, I don’t mind correction, but I despise it when someone says negative things about my work.
There are times I feel more at home in front of a keyboard than I do anywhere else. Unless, of course, there are video games to be played. Then… well, the world needs to be saved, even if it is only a fake one. But I digress (a word I like to use as a way to explain my rabbit trails).
Flip that situation though, and make me the reader. Oh, that just won’t do. It’s not that I don’t like reading. I do. However, reading takes a mindset that I seem to posses in a very limited quantity. When it comes to reading, it either has to be something that catches my attention before I even start to read, or something I am required to read. As an aside, I don’t even like re-reading the stuff I write. It’s that bad. (my dislike of reading that is, not my writing. Oh, please, I hope my writing isn’t that bad.)
I think that makes me ironic. Or snobby. Or like a check valve…
So in the vein of the self diagnosis, my issue is rather one of the short attention span variety. There are times when I will be reading something and I end up in a thought that turns into another one, that trains into a few more ideas that I could incorporate into one of my stories, and two pages later, I have no idea what I just read. On top of that, because I never wrote down what I was thinking, I have lost those ideas. And now, I’m stuck with having to re-read what I just read AND not having done anything productive with my writing.
It’s the infamous Catch-22 (a book I really should read one of these days).
So, given the choice of being either a reader or a writer, I will chose writer every time.
It’s really a no-brainer.
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Morton’s Fork.”