I can’t reread books. Even my favorites. I just never been able to do it. But I start each year with a quick reread of The War of Art by Steven Pressfield. Like anything, writing has its up and downs. And when you hit the down periods, it seems pretty pathetic to gripe that something as silly as making up stories is difficult.
But it does happen, and this book has a great way of framing that frustration as something to overcome so you feel a little less pathetic and a little more heroic. Or maybe it’s just nice to know that someone else out there gets it. Either way, it’s a quick read and I end up feeling ready to go after I put it down.
