The Ethics of Reading

Most writers give this advice to those of us who wish to join the guild: read. Read lots. Read constantly.

While it’s not always possible to read all the time, I do spend at least a couple hours most days behind a book. I know not everyone likes to read, but I read a tremendous number of books. Of course I don’t keep count, but the total is in the thousands rather than the hundreds.

When you read, you learn. Yes, I read for entertainment, but I also learn at the same time. I learn how to write. And how not to write. I learn what works, and what doesn’t. I love to read.

An ethical issue has been nagging me. Aren’t those who read required, if so enabled, to give something back? If there’s anything I enjoy more than reading, it’s writing. I could write until I drop dead with no regrets.

It is my obligation, is it not, to offer back some of what I’ve taken? I’ve borrowed ideas, thoughts, and dreams from other writers. Don’t I owe to readers a synthesis of what I’ve read?

I think of publishing as a kind of obligation. If I write the world’s greatest novel, but don’t show it to anyone, I’ve only accomplished nihilism. I need to try to get it published. Publishers, of course, don’t share my sense of obligation.

This past week I had the great news that my story “Angel Hunter,” published in Deep Water Literary Journal, has been nominated for a Best of the Web Prize. I’m insanely happy when any of my stories get any notice at all. I’ve been nominated for a Silver Pen and Pushcart Prize. Still, not many journals will consider the obligation of publishing.

I don’t write to pander to the crowds. I write because, if there’s a god, this is what that god made me to be—a writer. An occasionally nominated writer.

In this world of increasingly thick cobwebs, becoming noticed is harder and harder. Million and millions of webpages are more entertaining, flashy, and trite. I’m overthinking this, I’m sure. But then, I read a lot. It is an occupational hazard.

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K. Marvin Bruce

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