So as I have written before, I enjoy reading. In fact, the link I just put in that last sentence was to my 2018 reading list. That post was from December 11th. In the time since then, I hadn’t finished a book until last night.
What gives? If I’m such a reader, why hadn’t I finished anything for an entire month?
Gulp. I’m not exactly sure what to say. Hopefully writing this post will shed some light on the subject. Over the past few months, I had started four different books, and for each of those books, I couldn’t get into them! Believe me, I tried. One of them I got two-hundred and fifty pages into. I spent most of my holiday break trying to be interested. It did not work. No matter how many times I cast out that line, my hook came up empty.
I won’t slander the name of the books by mentioning them. Instead of blaming the books, we’ll just say it was a question of bad timing. I just wasn’t enjoying them. The thing is, I have often slogged through books. I did that plenty last year. There were numerous titles on my list that, at times, I wasn’t really enjoying. I have often made myself finish books. Usually there is something redeeming at the other end. Sometimes I am extremely grateful that I hung in there.
But not over the last couple of months. If all I wanted to do was finish books in order to say I had read them, I probably would have sucked it up and just gotten through them. But I just didn’t want to do that… this time.
Maybe I am recalibrating. Maybe my priorities in what I read are changing. I just finished a novel, my first read of the year, and that was a lot of fun. I started a second one tonight that seems promising. So clearly I got the reading mojo going. Maybe it was the particular titles I was trying to read. Maybe I just didn’t feel like pushing through a less-than-engaging read (I didn’t want to say boring!).
It’s funny, because in a way, this is consistent with the posts I wrote in the past few months about reaching for satisfaction. Being satisfied is a continual quest for me. Maybe I reached the point where that was becoming more important with my reading material.
I no longer feel I have to finish a book “just to finish it.” I know I can read a long book, or a tedious book, and then say I climbed that mountain, so to speak. But I want to enjoy what I read! I want to read things that thrill and inspire me! I want to read things that are worth their weight in… paper! (Yes, I prefer physical books)
So yes, I guess I am just ready to toss a book from the pile if it’s not doing it for me.
I mean, there are so many books out there! I want to enjoy mine!