Last month, for the first time in several years, I didn't meet or exceed my goal of finishing two books by the end of the month. It wasn't that I wasn't reading. I'd been reading magazines and sampling other books, but not finishing them. Some didn't keep my interest, and others did, but I didn't get them finished. Re-discovering this blog from three years ago reminded me that some months -- or seasons -- are sampling seasons, and that it sometimes takes a lot of sampling to find a main course that's worth finishing.
A few weeks ago, after starting to read yet another new book, I embarked on a reading sampling. At the beginning of the month, frustrated by my habit of starting many books then taking forever to finish them, I'd set a goal to finish reading (any) one of the books I'd already started, along with (any) one of the books I'd started listening to on Audible by the end of October.
Why a reading sampling? Wasn't that the opposite of what I was trying to achieve? Actually, it was a step toward it. My mission was to read excerpts from several of the books on the small shelf beside the family room sofa (my "actively reading" shelf) and determine the most likely candidate for an October 31 completion. In addition, I'd relocate anything I picked up that didn't pique my interest.
It was an interesting idea. Nearly everything on the shelf is non-fiction, so there was no mixing of characters and plots, something that would have been have interesting in a completely different (and most likely confusing) way. As I scanned the shelves, I already had a front-runner in mind -- a book interesting enough to keep my attention, with enough pages read that a month-end finish was realistic -- but I was open to new possibilities.
With only two weeks to go, I quickly eliminated several of the shelf denizens. More than one possible selection was too dense to be a contender; others looked good, but hadn't yet been started, so they didn't make the cut.
Or so I thought.
I picked up a book recently relocated from another reading pile, one with a bookmark stuck in about halfway through. I quickly realized that although I'd skimmed some of it because it had content relevant to one of my classes, I hadn't actually started reading it. Had I realized that, I'd have left it on the shelf.
But it was too late. Intoxicated by its new book smell and alluring subject matter, I was powerless. I flipped back to the beginning, starting my third new book in two days.
I think I might have a problem.
Needless to say, the newcomer quickly captured my attention. Now I have two contenders. One with fewer pages remaining (the obvious choice) and the one I held in my hand. And did I mention I started another one this morning? And yet another yesterday?
I can quit any time. Really. (Starting new books, that is. I have no intention of quitting reading).
By the end of the evening's sampling, I had narrowed it down to two books. I want to savor both yesterday's new book or this morning's new book more than a two-week reading window will allow, so they're on the reading list, but not the read-in-the-next-two-weeks reading list.
Which book did I choose? Did I finish? Did I meet my goal? |
| Image by Rousseau from Pixabay |
Fast forward another week, to the last week of the month. On Thursday, I finished You're Not Listening
by Kate Murphy. Mission accomplished, with three days to spare.
I wonder what I'll read in November.
I think it's time to sample the contenders.
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