It’s amazing what you can learn about your reading life when you pay attention.
A while back, I started tracking my reading using Anne Bogel’s My Reading Life: A Book Journal. I just finished the 100th entry, and the predominant feeling I have is pride. Books and reading weren’t always the source of joy they are now, but rather a source of shame.
I was slow to learn to read. In elementary school, I was always in the lowest level reading group, back when they didn’t acknowledge the hierarchy, but everyone knew. I used to check out books from the library, but I never did more than look at the pictures. I had a strong vocabulary and could read all the words, but I didn’t understand how, when put together, they made a story. When I got too old for picture books, I skimmed the pages, searching for words I knew, trying to piece together context. For my book reports, I copied the flap copy on the back.
In high school, I made peace with the fact that I would always have to work harder than my peers, but I loved good stories and had a teacher who helped me understand them. Essentially, I learned how to learn, and whenever I finished a book, I placed it on my shelf like a trophy.
After college, I stopped reading critically and started reading purely for pleasure. I haven’t been without a book since.
Today, my reading journal feels like a return to critical reading and an amends to my plagiaristic book report days.
Seven things I learned from 100 books
I have a lot to say about books I don’t like
My reviews for books I didn’t like were often longer than those I enjoyed. Maybe I wanted to justify my bad rating, or maybe it was the plot or underdeveloped characters, or maybe my expectations were too high. These intense reactions were helpful when it came to choosing my next read. When I can articulate what I don’t like, I’m much closer to finding what I do like.
Sometimes I can’t say anything.
Sometimes a book is so thought-provoking that I am dumbfounded after finishing it. It took me seven months to write my review for Heavy, and I’m still wrapping my head around what I think about that book.
I’m way too generous with my five-star ratings.
In the beginning, I rated almost everything I finished with a 5-Star: a holiday romance, the alphabet murder series, a memoir by Marcia Clark…
I felt bad giving low ratings. Writing a book is hard, and it does not seem fair that my opinion of a book might affect an author’s ability to earn a living. But then I heard Tracy from The Stacks Podcast say, “Reviews are for readers, not writers.”
Also, I felt residual shame from my childhood, where any book I finished was a badge of honor, but then I read The Guncle. It seemed wrong to give a 5-Star rating to a book that didn’t change me.
I developed a persona rating philosophy and added it to my Goodreads profile:
“One and two-star ratings are for stories I should have DNF’d but was too stubborn.
Three-star ratings are for good books. Let me repeat. Three-star books are good books, and I’m glad I read them. They have themes or characters I like, and I’d recommend them to the right person. They typically end with a tidy bow and are missing the lingering pondering that would make it a four-star book for me.
Four stars are for books that are more than an enjoyable way to pass the time. It could be the writing, characters, or plot. Usually, the end leaves me with something to ponder. They leave me changed in some way. Frankle, Reed, and Haig are some favorites.
I reserve my five-star ratings for two types of stories: 1) books I want to hug after reading and 2) books written by aliens. Meaning the writing is so beautiful, the structure so interesting, or the story so thought-provoking that I am fundamentally changed after reading. These books feel other-worldly in some way. Didion, Laymon, and Rowley come to mind.
My summer reading is dismal.
This year I read one book in both June and July and only two in August. Granted, I was in my first trimester and felt car sick for the first twelve weeks, but ONE book? Really?? Especially when the Beach Read, a whole sub-genre of books dedicated to summer, is usually the feel-good fiction I gravitate towards. This summer, I vow to do better.
I listen to a lot on audio, but I miss the page.
Only nineteen of my 100 books were on the page; the rest were audio. There are a lot of advantages to audio. For one, it’s easy to multitask. I can fold laundry, take a walk, or keep myself awake during nighttime feedings of my newborn. If a book is in translation or has difficult to pronounce names or words, the audio gives me the correct pronunciation. (Beartown) If a book is challenging or extra long, audio is less intimidating (This is How You Lose the Time War, This Must Be the Place), and sometimes the production is so good the audio adds a whole other layer to the narrative (Daisy Jones and the Six, The Guncle)
But I miss the carnal aspect of marking up a book and highlighting favorite quotes and passages. I like to skim back through a favorite book just to visit with the characters for a minute. You can’t do that with audio. In my next 100 books, I want to dedicate more of my reading time to physical books. I have plenty waiting for me (Fates and Furies, Still Life), but I also wanted to return to some of my favorite audiobooks and try them out on the page, maybe even listen and read simultaneously.
I have favorites
The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion
The Beartown Series by Fredrik Backman
Daisy Jones and the Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid
Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt
This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone
The Bromance Book Club by Lyssa Kay Adams
Five Tuesdays in Winter by Lily King
More is More
Basically, I want to “Yes, and…” my reading life. I read a lot of memoir and mystery, and I want to keep that going, but I want more. I usually enjoy popular contemporary fiction, but I want to stretch myself beyond my comfort zone. I want to try out award winners or genres I avoid, like sci-fi, fantasy, or historical fiction. I want to re-read those challenging books from high school and see how they sit with me now. I want to read more short stories. I want more and more and more.
I started my reading journal in September of 2021. After 100 books, I now know more about myself as a reader than I ever have. Here’s to the next 100!
