A Feast of Reading
The end of one year and the beginning of the next brings a cavalcade of “best of” lists and scads of recommendations for the TBR list. At least to my nerdy book-girly social media feeds, Substacks, and online publications. In a time where one recent statistic claims that about 40% of American adults didn’t read a book last year, it also seems like books are a continuing presence for many, many people. I love seeing the different conversations—and realizing that, even though I read a lot, I have so much more to explore, discover, and relish.
It’s wonderful and perhaps a bit overwhelming.
Maybe that’s because some of this seasonal book talk seems to come with more than a whiff of New Year’s resolution-ness clinging to it. A relentless pressure of more: more titles, more genres, more authors. All good in the abstract. So many positive outcomes from interacting with lots and lots of words. Who wouldn’t want to read 120, 150, 200 books in a year?
But while I love the aspiration of reading more, I also wonder if this insistent push towards ever higher consumption, this bragging over enormous year-end book counts, leads us to value mostly volume and speed.
It also seems—like most resolutions we make—driven by notions of “should”: I should read more, I should read the “classics,” I should read outside my comfort genres.
But that feels like all the other resolutions we make—ones driven by guilt or a sense of inadequacy. And we know how many gym memberships survive through to spring.
My hope is that your “why” resists just filling a reading quota and rather, includes some blend of enjoyment, curiosity, wonder. A topic of interest. A style that intrigues. A new voice to learn from. Or perhaps something that just looks fun.
Instead, then, of what you’ll read this year, perhaps it’s worth a moment to consider why and how you’ll read? And in doing that, maybe just one suggestion from me: eliminate “should” from your calculus. Unless you’re my student (in which case, you should do the assigned reading), no one needs to read any particular thing. Or even finish something they started.
My hope is that your “why” resists just filling a reading quota and rather, includes some blend of enjoyment, curiosity, wonder. A topic of interest. A style that intrigues. A new voice to learn from. Or perhaps something that just looks fun.
And as for “how”: maybe, in fact, we might think about how to savor what we read, instead of how quickly we can get through each title. It might be a year with fewer books but encountered more slowly, more mindfully. That’d be an achievement, too.
If you have a lofty goal for this year’s reading, great! (And I hope some of the FFW books will be on your list). But whatever your aim is, I hope that it’ll resemble the very best diet: delicious small bites scarfed down quickly, leisurely banquets enjoyed for hours, luscious desserts in which to indulge. And all enjoyed with your favorite beverages, as appropriate.
Here’s to a feast of reading in 2026!
