Goodreads.com is my magical external brain, and the kind folks there emailed me today to tell me to “Read More in 2018!” If you are unfamiliar, Goodreads is a website that enables you to connect with friends, see what they are reading, and, most important to this librarian: keeps a digital shelf of all yo’ books. I’m talking books you’re reading now, books you have read, books you want to read. (Look into my book brain; view my want-to-read shelf of 300 and understand what it means to be a professional book person.) This is how I keep track of my reading life, which often means adding titles and more titles because there are too many books to read in a lifetime.
I used to read one book at a time. Since being a library school student, I have started to read in a variety of modes (audiobooks and ebooks joined, but did not replace, the physical books) and now I read between 4 – 6 books at a time. This means one audiobook going in the car, one or more for when I’m doing chores around the apartment, and maybe a hardcover to take with me on errands and a paperback by the bedside. Plus or minus an ebook on my (work–shh) computer for when it’s slow.
All this to say, I read too much and I want to read less.
“Nonsense!” you say. “That is sacrilege! That is impossible! Reading is the best, most noble and rewarding activity a human can do! For a librarian to say otherwise is hogwash!”
I read 170 books last year, and that was too many for me. I did in fact set a goal with the Goodreads “Challenge.” My goal was 100. Librarians are surrounded (physically and in our emails/professional networks) by books, usually the newest and the buzziest. Since I was finished with library school and had a job (two, in fact!) and my own schedule, I wanted to challenge myself. And thus the goal was born.
During 2017, which was a rocky, upsetting year for our country in general and me specifically, I turtled. I pulled myself into my shell and I tried to keep out the bad stuff, which was most often any news coverage not presented in comedic form. If any of you are familiar with anxiety and/or depression, and/or feeling powerless over circumstances beyond your control, you recognize this as a counterproductive measure. Instead of going to yoga or on a run outside, I read. Instead of taking calls from or placing calls to my friends and family, I listened to audiobooks in my room. I forgot to do things that bring me joy, because I was sucked in to this habit of reading.
Not only was I strictly consuming books (too fast to allow room for digesting them), I wasn’t doing anything with the information. Occasionally, I would find someone who had read the same thing and talk about a book, or talk with my long-distance book club, but for the most part, I just wanted to move them from the digital “want to read” to the “currently reading” to the “read” shelves.
I became the antisocial kid cool parents worry about when they see their kid reading rather than playing with others. Reading is my comfort zone, and I did not step out of it.
Though not harmful, my reading was not healthy. I used my reading challenge as an excuse to not challenge myself professionally, personally and physically.
This year, my challenge is to read 100 books. No more, no less. A notoriously weak habit-breaker, I am sure in June I will find myself beyond the 50 book mark [LOL book mark, GET IT?], but as long as I’m better balancing my time, more intentional with all activities reading and otherwise, it will have been worth it.
Because I need to do, create, connect, rekindle and re-center (and not feel hokey or indulgent admitting it). Actively engaged rather than passively consuming. I need to talk with people, new and old. I know that reading makes me a better person, but it did not make my life better. It did not heal my anxiety or my relationships.
Only people can do that. Starting with me. Likely outdoors. Definitely out of my bed. There are more books than I could hope to read in a lifetime, so I need to stop trying. Life is waiting. Off the page.