A Love Letter to Goodreads
I’m embarrassed to admit, before this year when I downloaded the popular reading app Goodreads, I was a performative reader.
When inevitably asked for my hobbies, whether in college orientation icebreakers or by adults at church, I would automatically answer, “I love to read!” because growing up an “honors kid”, this was true. But during high school, I was so burnt out that if I read outside of school at all, it was only in the summer (most likely to put off doing my actual assigned summer reading).
This pattern continued into college, until the summer between my freshman and sophomore year. My older sister (shoutout Evah) invited me to read a popular series with her, and I was absolutely hooked. As I flew through, I was reminded of why I always said I love to read: a good book just absorbs you fully until you forget everything else.
This was my start, and across the fall semester, I continued reading for fun despite my heavy workload, automatically opening Libby instead of Instagram in the dining halls, filling every minute I could with words. Winter break gave me the freedom I needed to embrace the reading life, and I knew what was going to motivate me to continue this trend.
Enter Goodreads.
My sister had it long before me, and in classic younger sister fashion, I stole it and made it a key part of my personality. I have discovered I absolutely adore the task of writing reviews for the books I read. It helps me think more deeply about the content I am consuming, since I want to articulate exactly what I enjoyed or endured in each book.
I think this step is especially important nowadays, where there seems to be an over-saturation of books: sometimes it feels like you can look at a book’s cover and blurb and then almost perfectly recite the plot or tropes used.
Instead, in crafting a review, I consider how the book stands out from other books, balancing characters and plot to emerge with a well-rounded picture of the good and the bad that was accomplished. My reviews also give me a unique insight into how I felt immediately upon finishing the book. It typically takes me about 20-30 minutes after I finish to finally post a review; in that time, I reflect upon what moved me, rewriting my sentences to perfectly encapsulate my whirlwind of emotions. Looking back at my sometimes glowing, sometimes heated reviews puts me back into that state of mind, even months later.
I also just get so much entertainment from reading other people’s reviews. I always take the time to write my own review first, since I don’t want to be influenced by other people, but then, the long-awaited moment where I see what strangers said. If I didn’t like the book, I can easily make excuses for why other people enjoyed it: they related more to the characters, or it wasn’t my favorite genre. However, all hell breaks loose in my brain when other people dislike a book I raved about.
“What makes a good book is unique to everyone, and it’s something each reader gets to find for themselves—unless you have a sister to tell you what to read.”
I will admit, sometimes I take it personally, as if I had anything to do with the creation of the story. I roll my eyes and tell myself, “they didn’t get it!” But after my initial annoyance resides, I can see these differences for what they’re worth. What makes a good book is unique to everyone, and it’s something each reader gets to find for themselves—unless you have a sister to tell you what to read. While writing my own review helps me better recognize what I take away from each book, reading reviews prepares me to defend my own opinions while simultaneously (and more importantly) opening my mind to new ideas.
But Goodreads is far from perfect. In fact, it’s a frustrating app to operate. A few months ago, after years of users begging for a feature to add half stars on ratings, a new version of the app was released with an updated logo, something no one cared about! Not only does it not have desired features, but the interface is honestly difficult to navigate at first and does not refresh quickly. As a platform run by Amazon, you would think they have abundant resources to design a smoother, better app, but they must have other priorities.
Not only is the app itself sub-par, the focus on quantification can also be a cause of concern. Trust me, I am aware of problems that come with eagerly counting how many books you’ve read, instead of focusing on the quality of these books; fun hobbies can quickly turn into comparison-fueled competitions that misplace the value of simply reading to read. And this is a real danger. To combat this, I focus on my individual growth as a reader. When I was first beginning to post reviews for the books I read, the extrinsic motivation of being held accountable to read more definitely factored into my desire to post reviews. However, this helped me uncover the intrinsic good of thinking more deeply as I read, and now this enjoyment alone is enough to propel my reading. I think this transformation can be viewed in the wide variety of books I’ve read this year: alongside difficult philosophy books, I have included Jane Austen novels and other classics, detective stories (with both human and woodland creature main characters), Rick Riordan books I’m catching up on that have been published since I was in middle school, this year’s new releases from John Green and Suzanne Collins, and lots more in between. I don’t read books to boost my numbers or flex my bookshelf. I read anything I think I will enjoy, and I dwell on what makes each valuable in their own way.
If you have a toxic relationship with Goodreads, where you can’t help but compare yourself to others, break up and move on. But if you’re like me, and Goodreads treats you right by making you excited to read and reflect, I say power to you. Goodreads has helped me move past my performative reader stage and reignite my love for reading, one book review at a time.
