I remember before I ever thought of doing it…some of my family used to call me Professor. It wasn’t solely because of my ability and willingness to veraciously devour books but that played a large part in it. Well that and my skills with helping people write papers. In so many ways, I am still grounded in those two things. How lucky am I that my job is to do something that combines my strengths and loves? That they are part of what I get paid to do? At any rate, today I was wondering where my love of writing comes from. I think that I shared here before that I wrote my first story at six; at my writing desk. I know that it stems, in part, from my maternal great grandmother’s storytelling which always kept me entertained and gave me a love for stories. However, I think that my love of writing is rooted firmly in my love of reading.
Although I love writing, my love of reading is all consuming. I can spend an entire day lying in bed with either physical books or my tablet. I inhale them in a way that has been a constant all my life. Even when I’m taking classes I still make time to read for my own pleasure. Reading is also one of the ways that I become inspired to write. The stories that I read inspire my own creativity but they also replenish my love of reading. I am waiting now for the arrival of a Laura Lippman book and plan to visit my library to pick up a few books for this weekend. I am planning to start prepping for my story for NaNoWriMo this year later on this week and I hope that my reading sparks my ability to create something amazing.