I really enjoy reading. I mean, I think I do. There’s something slightly chore-y about it, sure, but I love me a good book. Then why do I suck at reading? I mean look at my 2017 reading challenge. I’ve read 3 effing books in 8 months. Jesus H. That’s abysmal. Especially for a writer.

Worse still? I haven’t been writing. Well, typing. I’m never really “not writing”. Unfortunately most of it happens in my head and it mostly involves figuring out how a character wants to be written or which songs might be on the soundtrack of the movie version because I’m wont to flights of fancy.

Reading and writing are among a worrying number of things I seem to have forgotten how to do. Like using Tumblr, eating without some degree of guilt (weight-loss is weird, guys) and saying happy birthday to Facebook friends. The last time I produced something was my short story entry for the Pen Avenue Malawi competition (I won, by the way) and that was last year. This year I was supposed to have completed a short story collection called “It’s Different for Girls” but I haven’t even toyed with that idea for months.

I haven’t even been able to get started on re-releasing my debut novel – Tender Underneath – yet. UGH.

Outside of this blog and work for The Slice Magazine, I have to say, I haven’t been being much of a writer or reader which is a shame because those things are so central to who I am or maybe who I want to be and my continued negligence to both activities is definitely a source of frustration.

Now that I’ve shamed myself on this here my blog, I’m hoping something in me will try to pick up on my writing and reading slack. There’s four months left in 2017 and reading 17 books within that time is not impossible but since it’s me we’re talking about here, it’s highly improbable. Nonetheless, I’m going to try.

Writing on the other hand will probably continue to be something I mostly do in my head. At least until this semester is over. In the meantime, I guess I can keep listening to what the characters want and figuring out how the fuck I can make time travel work because I am stuck in paradox hell! (PS: my next novel is a sci-fi time-travel thingy.)

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