So recently, I explained my decision to leave Goodreads as a user. This meant that my reviewer and reader account was closed and removed from the site, and although my published works remain there, I won’t be making any personal comments or updates anymore.
I went into the details in “Explaining My Recent Decision to Leave Goodreads” (sorry, it’s been a big week and I’m too lazy right now to attach a link), but it also relates very strongly to my post a few months ago, “It’s Time to Stop Being So Neurotic About Goodreads.”
Even before I reached the point of feeling completely overwhelmed by the toxicity of some of the reviewers, I was beginning to lose it when it came to GR. The way the site seems to turn reading into a competition just becomes suffocating.
Before I joined GR, my TBR was anywhere from 1-10 books at any given time, and this changed frequently depending on what else was going on in my life.
For example, if it had just been Christmas or my birthday, and I’d bought a bunch of new books, those came to the top of the list.
If I’d checked a bunch out from the library all at once, those came first.
If things had just gone bat guano crazy (like this week did), then my reading material would definitely be limited to either a trusted and beloved re-read (for comfort, and that I could pick up in small chunks), or nothing at all for a few days.
After I joined GR, my TBR swelled to as many as 60 titles I hoped to read in the next several months. I’m aware this seems like nothing to the folks who regularly have at least 100 books on their TBR, and find themselves constantly adding to it. But for me — a mom to special needs kids, who’s trying to work from an already-busy home — anything upwards of 20 feels stifling.
And I was starting to lose the joy of reading. I’d frantically run to the library every week, to grab all the hot new releases before anyone else did, so that I could read them and review them as quickly as possible. Even if I hated them. Even if I DNF’ed them. Even if I was only reading them because 1,000 other people on Goodreads were.
That’s where the stress came in. Almost all the excitement of picking up a brand new title was being sucked out of my soul. The thrill of being able to add higher numbers to my “finished” list was providing more emotional juice than the wonderful story I’d just absorbed.
Especially since it often wasn’t wonderful. In the past 16 months, I read a LOT of books I never had before, and I have to say, probably 80% of the time, I was disappointed.
There were also some really awesome finds, including fellow indie authors, and titles in genres I’d usually shy away from. And I learned a TON about myself as a reader, and this is important. I learned what I really can’t stand, what I’m okay giving a try, and where I need to draw the line.
I have decided I do not care what my friends are reading, how fast they’re finishing, or how many books they complete in a year. I support their life goals, and if they’re happy, then I’m happy for them.
My personal reading goals will be much different from now on.
I’m not one for making New Year’s resolutions, but these circumstances called for it.
So, here are my priorities for reading starting now:
It will be fun. As soon as a new title (borrowed, bought, discovered in a rubbish pile) stops being enjoyable, I will put it down and not pressure myself to keep going.
It will fit into time I already have. Usually in the evenings, there isn’t much on TV that I’m interested in, so after Jeopardy! I crack open a book. This is also a good way to wind down at the end of the day, and relax. Since I generally need some time to focus on something that is not children or everyday-life-related before I attempt to settle down enough for sleeping, spending an hour or so diving into Maggie Stiefvater or Warriors or Beaumont and Beasley easily accomplishes this.
I’d found myself devoting massive chunks of time (when I could have been doing something else) to 500-page books that I wanted to finish only to be able to say I finished it. Not recommended.
I will not force myself to plow through genres/authors/content I find objectionable or just plain tedious. Everybody has different tastes, and that’s why there are so many options out there for readers. There’s nothing wrong with my preferring certain subjects and genres, styles and levels of content. So what if it means I’m much more likely to choose a MG or YA fiction, when I’m an adult?
I will not have a set time limit, nor a goal for how many books I’ll read in x amount of days. Part of the stress of feeling like your TBR is going to crush you if you don’t get through, say, half of it before 2020, is the sensed impending doom of that deadline. The fact is, the world will not end if I only read 15 books in 12 months, or if I only add 8 more to my TBR.
All of this combined should mean that I keep my sanity, and my love for reading as a hobby, and as a writer. After all, that’s what it’s really about.
2 thoughts on “The Future of My Reading Habits”
I hope this makes 2019 a really fun reading year for you!! I lowered my goal this year and I’m pretty happy that I haven’t been breaking my neck trying to overachieve it this time 😂Although I still want to read aaall the books haha.
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Ah yeah I do relate to the pressure of feeling like you have to read things because everyone else is. I think these are really excellent goals!