As many of you already know, I was never a diehard reading-by-the-numbers reader. Although some time ago I began recording my books in a wonderfully thick, green memoranda volume, later switching to an online database, it never occurred to me to count. I loved gazing at all the marvelous book covers, reminiscing about the stories and worlds I’d passed through. It also didn’t hurt that I could keep track of which books I owned, favorites and those I wished to read.
Until recently, though, it never occurred to me to put a number to them, and I admit at first it did strike me as an I-read-more-than-others type of exercise. At the start of 2016, however, when I noticed the Goodreads Reading Challenge, it also piqued my interest, perhaps owing to the gap in between my green-book recording and the recent years’ entries in another online library. I also contemplated that it might be a way to expand my horizons or hone my discipline (though I confess this latter element remained a vague goal).
And so it began with an aim of 50 books.
For much of the year I was ahead of the game, which I could see because of course the Goodreads algorithm notes how much you should be reading each day or week to keep up with your chosen number, and whether you are behind, on target or ahead of the game. As we got closer, perhaps a month or two before the end of the year, I reached my goal and increased it to 60. Other than for numbers, I’m unsure why I did this because, while achieving a goal is said to be such a great thing, this one really did very little for me except perhaps draw me into a competitive mindset I didn’t actually value and one that created a bit of stress.
Now, mind you, I don’t dislike competition in of itself but, having now experienced this reading challenge, it became clearer why this kind of contest doesn’t do much for me. What can I say I achieved by reading 60 books in one year? Bragging rights? The awareness within myself that I could do it? Without begrudging anyone else their goals, I simply didn’t really care all that much—it didn’t make me a more thoughtful reader because I did it faster, nor did I gain any real end aim for it all. I decided in 2017 I wouldn’t bother.
I also left most of the groups I belonged to because I couldn’t keep up with the notifications, most of which I wasn’t interested in, anyway. Let me qualify that: I didn’t have the time to be interested in them. What I did see were considered notes to each other in groups that, had I more time, I would follow up on. Because I didn’t (and likely won’t for the foreseeable future), they began to clutter my mind rather than enrich it, so I had to sweep them off my plate.
And then one day I saw something that caught my eye—I no longer recall if this came from a group that invited me, or one I’d not yet left, or by some other path—and I was immediately interested. Actually I saw many somethings and ended up choosing one, possibly even tailored or trimmed to suit my needs better. It was a group having an ongoing discussion about a reading challenge and, at least in my memory as I sit here recalling it, there were dozens of options, none of which I’d ever considered! They involved getting serious with one’s to be read (TBR) list, step reading (i.e. one book from one genre or series, two from the next, three from the next and so on up to 15), re-reads, and all manner of challenges that I felt really fed the mind, rather than needlessly raced it. Unfortunately for me, I tend to get bogged down by the way all these notifications and messages back and forth in threads is set up, so I never ended up really contributing to the discussion, though I was encouraged and influenced by it.
And so it is I decided to have at it for 2017, though in a different manner in which I approached last year, and that I’ll write about in our next installment of the Reading 2017 series. But let it not be said I got absolutely nothing out of 2016 reads–that would be categorically untrue. Of course, some I liked better than others, or perhaps it is more accurate to say they dug themselves deeper into my reader’s heart. Most were indie, many of which I wrote reviews for and which were part of different series (one, “950: 1066 Remembered,” still ongoing). Some, too, were traditionally published. A great number of them led me in other directions or linked to pathways I’d not yet traveled, or hadn’t in quite some time. Still others brought me to places and figures I found seemed already to be etched in my heart and our further travels together began.
And all that is the real victory.