Slowing down

The past few years I’ve read a lot of books. This year, I started out strong, but with two-thirds of the year done, I’ve only read fourteen books. I’ve slowed down considerably. I had a busy and mentally draining summer. But I’m not trying to make excuses.

Reading forty books in a year is a feat—for me at least. That’s about a book every nine days. When you have a full-time job, a toddler, and family, it’s hard to find time to read. And I’ve found in past years I rush through books just to check them off and say “look how many books I’ve read.” I don’t stop to really think about what I’m reading and internalize it. I don’t like that, and I’ve been trying to read more deliberately lately. I want to take time with what I’m reading. I want to treat reading like an assignment in school—but for fun. I take notes and write a report at the end. At least that’s what I’ve been trying to do this year, writing posts after finishing a book.

I’ve also been reading more periodicals. I have subscriptions to two local newspapers and two magazines. Reading those takes time. And I’ve been reading An Anarchist FAQ when I have a chance. The e-book version I have is 4,983 pages. I’m 115 pages in. It’ll be a while.

I feel the pressure knowing there’s only so much time in one life, and there’s so much I want to do and to read. But I’ve also been trying to create more lately. With my already limited time, entertainment in all forms cuts into that. Most of my reading isn’t entertainment, per se. I don’t read much fiction anymore. But nonfiction is still a diversion from writing. I don’t have a good remedy for the disparity between what I want to do and the limited time I have in a day, except for not working. But I’m not there yet.