I cut way, way back on ARCs, but still manage to have enough to work myself into yet another anxious panic. As I sat here, trying to prioritize all the work I feel like I need to do — made all the more fun by having a cold — a thought floated into my brain, seemingly out of nowhere:
What do you want?
It stopped me cold. What do I want, indeed? It’s so ridiculously easy to lose track of that. What do I actually care about? Which books do I think are important to share? If I don’t feel compelled to read a book or write about it, why should I bother?
Maybe I need to make a huge sign to tape over my computer, that says What do you want?