Reading, or the Lack Thereof

A very good friend recently drew my attention to the fact that I haven't been reading as much over the year as I had in the past. It was one of those "true facts" that take you a little by surprise when you notice them, and I started wondering why that is.

A huge reason that I've identified so far is that I get more deeply and easily annoyed by poor writing now that I understand the craft better. I've realized that it's probably good to be a little selective about what you develop expertise in. I'm not arguing that "ignorance is bliss", so much as realizing that there is value in being able to appreciate something on a very simple level. Once you begin to really learn all of its ins, outs, ups, downs, dos, don'ts, and details, it can be difficult to just sit back and enjoy it without analyzing and critiquing.

On the flip side, though, I've noticed that I now appreciate truly excellent writing so much more than I used to. Recently I was reading one of the early chapters of a new book. The author introduced an important new character with one sentence: "Charley Feavy was a short man with dark hair and perpetually dirty fingernails." That one sentence gave me such a clear, visceral picture of this character and his personality/behavior/role in the story that it really was all he needed to say. I spent 5 or 10 minutes just reading it and appreciating all of the craft and editing that most likely went into writing that one perfect description. Those small moments of deeper awareness and appreciation more than balance out all of the crap books that I put down and never pick up again these days.