I had a creative writing professor my last year of college who told me I was one of the greatest students with whom he’s ever been blessed; however, he thought I could benefit from exploring literature and poetry. Though my writing was already bold and exciting, he believed I could only improve if I allowed myself to be influenced by as many authors and styles as I could expose myself to. In short, he told me the best thing I could do after graduating was to read A SHIT TON OF BOOKS.
A few years have passed since I received my degree so it’s possible some of that information is slightly exaggerated by a combination of elapsed time and my fragile ego–we may never know. What we do know is, like with all my other assignments, I procrastinated and opted to instead watch A SHIT TON OF NETFLIX. But like those other assignments, I found my way back to it, just a bit (ahem, six years) later than I probably should have.
This is my way of bragging that I just finished my 18th book of 2016 and have read just over 5,000 pages this year.
Holy fuck, right? See, my professor was onto something. I’m getting more eloquent already.