When I'm in the throes of a new writing project, I deny myself the pleasure of pleasure reading (fiction). I've long been afraid I might inadvertently pick up a voice, a cadence, a fragment of someone else's style (parenthetical asides included). But I get sooooooo hungry. Recently, my son recommended a book he'd bought: Ron Suskind's The Way of the World. Nothing I would have chosen for myself, but quickly engaging. This man can WRITE! So I've solved the problem. When I'm writing, I can read non-fiction. Whew.