Do you ever have that feeling – so many books and nothing to read?
There are shelves of books waiting for me, not to mention devices full of downloaded fiction. But nothing catches my eye.
When I buy a book, I’m certain I want to read it. But if it joins the stack of those waiting to be read, over time the desire to read it slips away, until – sometimes – I can’t remember what made me buy it in the first place.
I hate those days when I’m ready to curl up with a book and lose myself in a story, but I can’t decide which one it should be. On those days, when I finally choose, my eyes skim the words but I don’t take them in; the story doesn’t grab my attention. I end up putting the book aside and passing the time on the iPad instead, or watching repeats of something on television that doesn’t demand much attention.
When I read I want to be absorbed by the book. I want to feel that need to turn the pages and see what happens next. I want to climb inside the world the author has created and fell the emotions of the characters.
Without that, reading can be disappointing.
But the books that make me feel that way are rare. I’m always searching for the next one; that’s why the choice of what to read next can carry so much weight. It’s the expectation of finding something great, or the choice to settle for something mediocre but engaging.
Do you want to work at reading something heavy but worthwhile, or slide easily into a forgettable story that will entertain you for a few hours but fade quickly from your mind?
There are so many choices, and with each book that appears on the shelf, it only gets harder to make the right one.