Photo by Ella Jardim on Unsplash |
I came to the embarrassing realization recently that while I may have slammed through over 60 books this past year, a great majority of those books didn't really stick around in my memory. If the book is a thriller or mystery there's an even greater chance that unless the book was extremely profound, I probably don't remember the ending! Which I guess would be fine if I was trying to save money and wanted to just reread things, but that's not really for me.
What in the world... what has happened to the kid who used to recite the plot of books with ease, and could remember all the details of everything she read.
I have a sneaking suspicion that this is all happening because in recent years I've prioritized the quantity of books read over the course of the above everything else about books. Sites like Goodreads feed into this binge reading approach, which makes sense, since they're owned by Amazon and they want you to buy more books. I'm all for buying more books (err, maybe I should slow down), but what good are more books if you don't really absorb and retain them in the end?
I don't mind forgetting what happened with lightweight, fun, relaxing reads intended as some kind of escapism. But I went through all the books I rated with five stars this year, and even those were foggy in places. They were what I felt to be the very best of the year at the time, and I still didn't retain them!
Another focus I'd like to have this year is on books that are enjoyable to read. As a rule in my life, I tend to suffer through — that even goes for books at times. I just don't have the time anymore to spend it on a book that is "kinda meh" or makes me uncomfortable or depressed. And I don't mean uncomfortable or depressed in a "wow this is well-written and actually awesome" kind of way. I'm looking at you, Supper Club and Ghosts. You were both depressing in the very best way.
I've also come to realize that I'm horribly out of the habit of writing book reviews, and well, writing anything really other than work emails where I explain rules to someone about why they can't do a thing they want to do, and also give them instructions on how to do other things they do want to do that they probably could have just Googled instead.
I guess the solution to that is to write more, which is tough because right now reading is simply more fun. Or, it's different. It requires less effort? I dunno, when I was a tween, and into my high school English career, I was excellent at it. I remember having a special composition book that I'd put reviews in, and each one would get its own individual page. Maybe I just need to get a composition book (no, you have enough blank journals, already).
But in all seriousness, I suffer from that weird sensation that I've just lost a best friend when I finish reading an exceptionally great book with characters I resonate with. Maybe during that sad sack period of time I should drag the joy out longer by writing a review. Hmm. Worth a shot.
Comments
Post a Comment