A Writer writes. A Writer reads. (It's in the job description, if you doubt me.)
A Writer reads for various reasons. A Writer reads for purposes of research. (You can never know too much.) A Writer reads to stay current. (There are few other things more embarrassing or humiliating than expending great energy and passion, over hours, days, weeks, months, years, only to discover by way of willful omission and deliberate ignorance brought about certain laziness, that another Writer already wrote what you wrote and did it far better - and has the awards and accolades to prove it.)
A Writer reads for pleasure.
Riiight.
Several years ago, by way of a conversation with another Writer, influenced by liberal quantities of alcohol and good food, it came out neither of us read for pleasure. That is, our pleasure reading was not what it could be. Or, more accurately, should be.
After we had sobered - in more than one way - and the good food had become just a favored and savored memory we returned to the revelation previously presented, and decided something must be done. After all, if a Writer doesn't read for pleasure why should anyone else?
What we decided, after more drink and food, was that we had to set a good example for not only the dear and gentle, honored and valued reader, but also our fellow ink-stained wretches and humble scribes.
In making this decision, however, we stumbled - figuratively, as we had sobered again - into a somewhat concerning truth: Pleasure is just that: Pleasure. Pleasure, by our definition, did not involved bravado or bragging rights. Pleasure was done simply because it provided pleasure. So how could we possibly set an example in terms of reading for pleasure without coming across as indulging something just this side of a guilty and sinful act? Pleasure, by our definition, was inherently selfish - but not in a bad way.
You might assume to find the answer to this concern more drinking and food were involved, but they weren't. Not on my part, that is. My fellow Writer mumbled something about having a deadline to meet, which he knew, based on personal experience, would require great quantities of booze, and that was that.
Or was it? The more I thought about the dilemma before me the more I wanted to think about it, and find resolution to it.
After several days of muttering and mumbling under my breath while I went about my daily routine - causing several people who encounter me regularly to avoid me - I decided something when it comes to reading for pleasure. Several 'somethings', actually:
First, reading for pleasure must be done. Not by way of habit or another premeditated act but out of, well, necessity. A person must eat every day or die. A person should read for pleasure every day or wither intellectually, spiritually. and creatively, diminshing themselves and their potential as a person, an individual. Read for pleasure and recognize in the writing, in the pleasure resulting the opportunities available to you.
Second, reading for pleasure must be encouraged. Not by demand, though, but by example. Turn off the television. Put down the GameBoy or XBox. Set aside the IPod. Dismiss all possible distractions. (I admit it: There are too many televisions in my home, and rare is the occasion when they are all turned off so that attention can be fully directed and focused on something else - probably of merit and value, instead, say, of Paris Hilton's hemline. Add in the radios, the CD players, the other conveniences and contrivances of modern living and my world is cluttered with 'white noise'. It is a bad habit, and one I will break my household of very soon.) In recent months a deliberate effort has been made on my part to read before I go to sleep each night. Admittedly, such a pursuit takes effort on my part, but it is an effort well-spent. I find myself sleeping better recently and I believe it is because of the reading done before I slip to dreams, inspired and brought forth by reading for pleasure.
Third, discourage the mindset that reading - reading for pleasure, specifically - is an outdated pursuit; something your grandparents did around the forty-watt light in the parlor or the oil lamp in the kitchen of their log cabin. If anything, as the cost of living continues to rise and disposable income diminishes, it is a pursuit that should be encouraged back into vogue. As a Writer I not only believe this to be true, but I know I have an obligation. If people don't read what is the point of me writing? If people don't read who will buy my writing, and what will I be left to do for a living? (Believe me when I assert you really don't want to find me behind the counter of the nearest Starbuck's; they have enough financial concerns, woes, and worries already without that burden.)
Fourth, prove by example that reading for pleasure leads to other things - other pursuits, other pleasures. As I have read for pleasure since the beginning of the year I have found my appetite for such things continues to grow, and so I read more and more for pleasure, including a book by Thomas Jefferson about horticulture. Jefferson was an autodidact - and an uninhibited one at that. When it came to growing things his ambitions knew almost no limits. Inspired by his efforts I found myself wanting to know more about such things and turned to reading - for pleasure - about a man named Alfred Wild, who did what many considered impossible.
And from the impossible comes the foundation for pleasure itself, for there are the things dreams are made of.