I wrote earlier this year about Gretchen Rubin’s advice: stop reading bad books. When a book doesn’t capture you, it slows all your reading down. A big massive plotty roadblock. Put the book down, pick up another one, keep going.
Yet I am still bad at following this advice. Granted, most of the books I’ve read this year I’ve really enjoyed. But when I think about those couple long audiobooks I ended up half-listening to because I was bored out of my mind, of that Mechanica book that inspired my the original post, I wonder why I don’t trust my taste more.
This last week, I’ve made it maybe 50 pages into my current book. For someone who’s been averaging 2-3 books a week all year, this is clearly a sign I need to pick up something else. Granted, I also decided to binge-watch Miraculous Ladybug . . . but none of my other binges this year (How to Train Your Dragon or the Marvel-movie-a-thon) seemed to get in the way of my reading.
The thing is, the book I’m reading isn’t bad, not at all, but I’m clearly just not that into the story right now. Even writing this now I want to tell myself I just need to spend some more time on it. It’s one of Rick Riordan’s books, the second in a series, and part of the same world as two other series I waxed poetic about a couple of months ago. I should love it.
I just. Don’t.
It’s not a bad book. It’s just bad timing. Maybe it’s my fault for picking that up right after a Harry Potter reread. The bar was set too high. I should have just grabbed Carry On and been done with it.
Or Whatever by S.J. Goslee. I really love that book.
Or finally reread The Raven Cycle series. Or Six of Crows.
Damn. I want to do all of that. I think the answer to picking up my momentum again is to follow that excited energy.
Although, I did listen to Real Queer America by Samantha Allen on audiobook this last week and that was a 5-star read. More books like that, please. Today I started listening to Bluefishing by Steve Sims — a book club pick for my team at work.
I’m committing. I’m going to stop reading my current book. It’s not for me. Not right now.
Thank you for book-therapy-ing with me.
With Love,
Natalie