Yes, writing ruined reading but, I’ve since found that I’ve been able to elevate my criteria for selecting reading material so I’m once again reading without too much zoom-out-to-editor-mode.
But, now, when I find myself not attending to my endeavor of learning to write well, I feel guilty. If I let a weekend go by where I fail to add to the current story, this nagging depressive guilt lingers around me in a funk. If I were to sit and watch a pointless TV show — guilt. If I spend way too much time curating anonymole — guilt. Zoning out — guilt. Sleeping — guilt. Breathing — guilt.
Maybe it’s just this particular story that has me stymied. Or I’m in a phase of my development where I’ve made certain progress, yet still have an arduous path before me, so I’m hesitant to write and potentially foul up what I’ve learned and maybe fail at the next step.
Or maybe I just analyze shit too much.
Yeah, that’s probably it. Writing is like exercise: you may, at times, dread the prospect of beginning, but once completed, the world looks much rosier and full of potential.
Anonymole - apocryphal agitators 
nice…
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Just write. Try not to think like “Oh my, I’m writing.” That’s why there’s editing. Tell your story, get it out even if you have to hurl it out on the floor. That’s the difficult part. The rest is mop and bucket work.
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Yeah, I know. But sometimes, the writing won’t come, and then there’s guilt. But, eventually, I get back to it, and the clouds lift, and inspiration returns.
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I tend to have the same problem with thinking or reading. If I don’t think deeply and critically about something, or else be reading something super informative or entertaining, I feel guilty, as if I’m wasting my time watching Grimm or playing Minecraft.
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