I want to be able to read books. Trust me, I do. It will help me get even better as a writer — to cultivate my already strong ability. But it is increasingly hard for me to finish them. I am halfway through Moby Dick, and like fifty pages through Emma Cline’s The Guest. Somehow, I can only finish The Jordan Rules, a spectacular book about Michael Jordan being a maniac and the quest for a championship by the 1990-1991 Bulls. (I highly recommend it. Sam Smith is a great sportswriter). For some reason, my brain doesn’t have enough discipline. My friend Naomi thinks “I’m just a young man figuring out art and life”, but I want to be able to read. The infamous How Long Gone podcast believes that it is thirsty to read, and I honestly don’t disagree with Mr. Black and Mr. Stewart, but it is objectively a good thing to be able to read. Kanye didn’t read, and look what happened to him. He literally got dumber and more mentally ill as the years went on. So, I recommend fake reading. At least, the ten pages a day you read will allow you to feel like you read something. Articles aren’t enough: fake read a book, and you’ll do your community service for a day.
