Wracked with Guilt!

This weekend I was running through the list of members over at the International Thriller Writers web site and I was struck by something. I haven't read books by very many of the authors listed there.

Some, I know, are people like me who, while they're members still don't have actual books out yet. If fact, you'll find members of the Killer Year on that list of ITW members. Some are people who probably only have a few out and are building a following. The names may not be familiar now, but in a year or two or five, things could be different.

Then there are the ones who everyone knows. Big names, must-reads, the folks who sell out multiple printings in hardcover. A few minutes scrolling through that list and the names will pop out at you.

And some of them, I admit, I haven't read.

When all is going well, I read an average of one book a week. Some weeks it's two, some weeks it's none. This last year I've done less reading, which is tough for me, but it seems to be a side-effect of entering the world of publishing, even in a baby-step way as I have. You have to do other things, like write your next novel, and learn about and prepare for promotion, and stuff like that. And then there's the whole day job thing. Brett Battles talked about not having enough time to read just a few weeks ago.

For example, my acquisitions editor sent me an email last week requesting a ten-page synopsis of my novel for the upcoming sales managers meeting, alone with a list of up to three things I will do to promote my novel. The synopsis needs to be thorough and complete, and serve to give the sales folks an overview of the novel in case they don't have a chance to read it themselves.

Now, the funny thing is, up to this point, I'd never written that particular kind of synopsis. Back when I was trying to find a home for lost dog, I'd written various teasers: a brief paragraph, a one-pager, and a two-pager. But the goal of these was not to serve as a Cliff Notes version of lost dog, but to make people want to read the actual novel. So this weekend, I wrote the synopsis. Which, combined with needing to work on my next novel, left little time for me to actually read.

I found it interesting that I was doing something which interfered with my own desire to read that would be used by other people who didn't have enough time to read so they could better sell my novel, which hopefully people will read.

In a good year, I probably read a 100 books. I haven't had a good year in years. Last year, it was more like 70, and I'm hoping, with the help of a few flights here and there to make it 50 this year.

It's not enough.

I love to read. Duh. I want to read more, not less. As I scrolled through the ITW list, all I could think was, "I bet I would dig a lot of these writers, if I could fit them in." And I also thought, "And I can't believe I've never read anything by that person or this person. What kind of reader am I?"

So many of us talk about how our To Be Read stack usually gets taller, not shorter. I feel like mine is going to have to have its own room pretty soon. If it topples off my bedside table one night, my wife and I might be killed. Oy!

I'll end with a question. Who's your "Oh my god, I can't believe I never read a book by THIS person" person? Who do you feel you've passed by and really wish you hadn't? For me, too many people on the ITW membership roll fits that category, but there's one that pops out and surprises me so I'll 'fess up. This is a writer who's be recommended to me any number of times, and I've even had friends hand me copies of his books. And somehow I've never opened one. And not because I didn't want to. This came up, that got in the way, and the years get shorter. I'll find time for him, though. Of that I feel certain. But for now, he'll be the unread Clive Cussler.