I stopped reading a book this week—removed my yellow post-it note bookmark and returned it to the library with roughly two-thirds of the text unread, and this a work of fiction too. I have stopped reading nonfiction idea books after I read the same idea presented three different ways. Such books really should have been articles anyway. But with fiction I have persevered, stubbornly adhering to my initial decision to read the book even after it fails to grab my attention after multiple attempts. Though I derive no satisfaction from such a slog, it’s difficult to admit an error, even one based on incomplete information that has been rendered obsolete.
Several of the contemporary thinkers I most admire pride themselves on how many books they start or skim, not how many they finish. These people place books into three rough categories: books to be read and enjoyed for their own sake, mainly fiction and biography/memoir; books to be read to absorb a writer’s main ideas, encompassing most nonfiction works; and books to be studied and reread many times.
My own nighttime reading is intended to fit into the first category. I want to wind down and relax without resorting to the television screen, not send my mind whirring. It is self-defeating to persist through page after page of drudgery in what is intended to be pleasure reading. It is true that some books start slowly and build. To account for this, there is a little heuristic I once heard that you should read 100-minus-your-age pages (currently 70 for me) before setting a book aside. This particular book was well past that threshold and still hadn’t drawn me into the story.
I have been contemplating how this stop-loss ethos might apply to other areas of life. There are certain realms where it has no place, but maybe the principle extends beyond leisure and even into certain professional projects where neither results nor pleasure are forthcoming. It is something I will keep in mind anyway.
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