How to Read a Book Every Week
I've e'er been a slow reader. I've loved books since I was a kid, simply I didn't identify as a voracious reader until grad school. My writing professors touted the importance of students reading thousands of books earlier taking a stab at penning their own. Then, in an effort to maintain positive habits afterwards graduation, I decided to track my reading.
I'd jumped on the habit-tracking train before: daily words written, weekly miles run. For a while, I even tracked the minutes I wasted on social media (I don't recommend this—it'southward as well depressing). The outer accountability of habit tracking has helped me form healthier routines and employ my time more wisely. I set my starting time almanac reading goal at 40 books, finishing the concluding folio of volume number 40 before the ball dropped that New Twelvemonth's Eve.
Moving into 2019, I resolved to raise my reading goal. I wanted to catch up with my ain compulsive bookstore purchases and sentry that pile on my nightstand shrink even more rapidly. I was intrigued by the 52 books in 52 weeks reading claiming I'd seen on Nicole Zhu'due south weblog. Surely I could handle 12 more titles than I'd read the year earlier. Plus, I liked the manner information technology felt in principle: If I stayed on track, not only would I get a clean slate at the showtime of the work week, I'd go a second make clean slate in nifty open a new book.
I started out strong, finishing 4 books in January, then five in February. To track my progress, I used the Goodreads Reading Challenge, which informs y'all when you're ahead of schedule, on track, or behind on your reading goal. I liked my new reading step, making haste with books. Instead of lighting up my telephone screen the moment I woke up in the morning, I'd open a book instead, reading on the couch with my get-go loving cup of coffee. This habit has been a game-changer. I've never been able to read before bed considering I fall asleep mid-page. But morning time reading? I'm all for information technology, and for the tone it sets for the rest of my day.
As the year progressed, I read several books I wasn't wild about. In the past, I've always felt at peace with abandoning a book before finishing it. Why waste matter time on a book I don't beloved, trudging through to reach an catastrophe that won't satisfy? Just reading a book a week made it harder to justify abandonment. I didn't desire to fall behind—like I said, Goodreads will tell you when you do. And the thought of that sent my Type A brain into a tailspin. So I wound up finishing several books I felt lukewarm about from the very first chapters. I bolted through brusk story anthologies comprehend to cover, most of which I ordinarily would've thumbed through, reading only the stories with openings that piqued my interest. The pressure to finish books sucked some of the day-to-day joy out of my reading life.
I also never thought I'd select a shorter book just because it would take less time to read. But when I found myself stuck in a 700-page tome for iii weeks, the next few books I picked off the nightstand pile had significantly fewer pages. I dear big, sprawling novels and wish I'd made time to read more of them in 2019. My favorite summertime memories from past years involve dragging a fat hardcover downwardly to the beach, dozing off between chapters on my towel: books like Donna Tartt's The Goldfinch and Lauren Groff's Fates and Furies. And while I chose lighter books, I all the same barely took the time to watch the waves striking the shore this summertime. And more importantly, I wasn't immersed in reading. I was immersed in reaching a goal—a goal that was beginning to experience arbitrary.
On top of tracking my progress on Goodreads, I shared books on Instagram as I read. I was pleased when a follower told me I'd inspired her to gear up a reading challenge of her own. And when another friend said she'd started reading a book she saw I'd just finished, I was thrilled. Sharing a reading experience with someone is among the almost intimate bonds.
I received many messages from friends who were curious about what I thought of a book I'd just posted: Would I recommend it to them? Why or why not? But information technology takes me a long time to assimilate a story. Often, I'll come up away from a book with lukewarm feelings, just to beloved the story more than after I've lived with it at a altitude. On the flip side, I've torn through certain books from beginning to end, adoring the story and its characters, merely to notice it on my bookshelf months later and wonder what made it so captivating. Posting my progress every bit I finished books allowed fiddling space before friends started asking, "What'd you call back?" While I loved that my friends wanted to chat most books, I ofttimes didn't take the words to do and so. I felt pressured to form opinions too before long. My post-reading experience became more forced than authentic.
Finding myself in the middle of a volume I never want to end is among the greatest joys of reading. I live for the want to finish a volume in ane sitting, and the competing desire to slow downward and make the pleasure last. Sadly, I robbed myself that pleasance this twelvemonth. I blew through everything I read, including books I would've dragged out for weeks just to alive in their worlds a trivial longer.
Today's addiction-happy productivity civilization advocates for setting measurable, attainable goals. Finishing what we start is considered a victory. But our reading lives shouldn't depend on filling in a Goodreads progress bar. That's because reading isn't but whatsoever erstwhile habit to rails.
While I can't modify our society'south obsession with productivity, I can change my own. That's why I've set a unlike reading goal for 2020. This yr, it isn't based on the quantity of books I aim to finish. Instead, I resolve to abandon books I don't like. I'll take the whole summer to pore over that staggering novel I never want to end. I'll recommend books to friends after I've lived with the story awhile. I'll read intentionally and joyously. Later on all, there are too many proficient books out there. From now on, I'll take the time to savor them.
Image credit: Tonny Tran
Source: https://themillions.com/2019/12/why-ill-never-read-a-book-a-week-ever-again.html
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