I can say that these concepts have changed MY way of reading. I just got an updated Kindle reader after wearing my old one's cover out. It's so handy to see a book advertised that is interesting and "boom" - have it to read in seconds, at a fraction of the cost of purchasing a book. I'm also trying not to "accumulate any more stuff than necessary" at my age and an e-book takes up zero room in my office.
I started reading at an early age and became addicted to stories. I'd sit in a small "fort" my dad made me up in an old tree for hours, escaping with imaginary friends into wonderful adventures. Writing stories started in grade school, I was the Editor for my high school newspaper, and majored in English and Journalism in college. I wrote articles for magazines, the home-town paper, and submitted my work where ever I could, but rarely got published. After my Near-Death Experience, it took me twenty years to write the book. I had always hoped to be earning money at this, but that's not happening (yet?), but the joy of hearing back from people that love my book's message is worth it all.
Writer's Block is part of the process and I know not to take it personally. It usually comes when I am trying "to force" the story. I've learned to take a break and divert myself for a while. Then I sit back down and poise my fingers over the keyboard, take a deep breath, and clear my mind. Eventually, a small voice in my head starts with an idea, or a few words, and I just start slowly writing. Usually that small start begins to flesh out and I can see where it's going. Then, I click in and keep going until my hands cramp or it's time to eat!
I've found that if I am writing without occasionally laughing at loud or bursting into tears, I'm not going to elicit any real reaction in my readers, thus I always have tissues next to my computer, and close my study door, so others don't hear me, and come running in to see what's "wrong" with me. It's the passion in your writing, that conveyance of joy and grief, that speaks to others' souls.
