I am judgmental about what I select to read during the day light hours. In a recess of my mind, there is daytime-only reading and then after dark-reading materiel. This is a very strange attitude as reading in general is an enlightening activity.
At some time, I got the idea that daytime reading could be work related, news related, educational, but not apparently, just entertaining fiction. As in: stretched out on the sofa reading a novel! Well why not? Story telling is a profound human need. Apparently I feel it should only happen after dark and best of all, in bed before turning out the light.
Luckily, I didn’t need to carry out a deep self-analysis; Covid came along and I have totally rediscovered the joy of reading whatever and whenever. Now I find it perfectly charming to go to my sofa, recently positioned by the window, and settle in for a good old read.
With my novel in the works, I am curious to see how others authors organize their novels. Hence, a lot of fiction has been invited my way. Oh dear, I see that I have even tied that with a virtuous reason to read fiction. But I will practice this daylight luxury and it will become an excellent habit unburdened by guilt.