This year, I made a not-so-resolution to be a better reader. (I made a lot of not-so-resolutions, in that I wrote none of them down, made no actionable goals for them, but still think of it as a lofty dream…) This version of me, the “better reader” would read all of the books I currently own, which is a feat that has probably never been accomplished by an avid reader. I also want to read quality books, a variety of books, and books outside my comfort zone.
So last night, I quit a book.
I’ve quit books before. I even wrote a blog post about quitting The Kite Runner. In fact, I’m pretty sure this was a book I’ve quit in the past.
I’m beginning to realize why I have so many unread books on my shelves. They are, for the most part, books I’ve bought or been gifted and haven’t enjoyed. I previously read this book, the one I most recently quit, to the 20th or so page. Which is kind of an outrage, because really, books are still getting set up by the 20th page.
So I gave it another shot. And nope.. Still not doing it for me.
It’s a shame because I already own this book (a gift), and it’s a really pretty book, but alas, I couldn’t stomach the thought of picking up this book yet again. So, on the 75th page, I quit.
RIP book. You probably won’t be missed. On to the next adventure…