The reports of the death of reading appear to be greatly exaggerated (apologies here to Mark Twain). Shorter attention spans or not, many people insist they are reading more than ever. Or so suggests my admittedly unscientific poll — of readers.
In the movie The Wife, a jaded middle-aged female novelist takes aside a talented young writer at a Smith College reading and says to her: “Don’t do it.” The aspiring student writer stands her ground, insisting that “a writer needs to write.” The older woman sighs. “A writer needs to be read,” she says.
I understand both sentiments. A writer does need to write. But, oh, how often it feels pointless, when publishing is so hard, when all-too-soon even the published book feels as impactful as a rock settling to the bottom of the sea!