I Miss MY Fiction

I'm working on a short story, for one of my classes; it has nothing to do with my WIP and I'm not sure how I feel about that. Lies! I know exactly how I feel about it: I hate it very much because I really miss my fiction. I don't really mind working on different things or styles I don't enjoy in the least; I tell myself these kind of exercises will make me a better writer. I even believe myself sometimes. But, by the Gods, I miss my fiction reading.

I miss having the time to get comfy with a book where peoples' heads blow up, the dead walk, gods gamble in Las Vegas, daemons aren't  evil by default... I miss the books I love. I'm currently reading a book about a teenager who loses his daddy to a construction accident, and he is the only thing standing between his seven siblings and starvation--I don't like this kind of stuff. I read the newspaper when I feel like reading about insane tragedy and worldly suffering.

Anyhow, I better go back to my short story, so that I can dedicate the rest of the day to my literary torture.

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