Category: reading life (Page 4 of 8)

Awhile back, I started what I thought to be a regular feature of my newsletter: Books of Winter, Books of Spring, Books of…, etc.

“Books of Summer 2022” was preempted by my Kickstarter announcements, so I thought I’d return at the end of November with “Books of Autumn 2022.” Except… I have no books to recommend. It’s not that I haven’t been reading, it’s that I haven’t been reading much fantasy. I’m in a bit of a funk.

I’ve started (but not finished) quite a few novels recently, and the one novel I did finish (The House in the Cerulean Sea) was okay for what it was but not something I’m keen to recommend. It was perfectly fine, just not something I have much to say about, nor something I think needs my recommendation. It has plenty of positive buzz already. My somewhat tepid praise won’t add anything new to the pile.

And the other two books I’ve started (but not finished) are also perfectly fine. I’m sure I’ll finish them eventually. But neither book is keeping me up at night to finish a chapter, neither is tugging at my sleeve and cajoling me to read when I should be washing dishes. I have to force myself, like I’m forcing myself to take my vitamins.

This is no way for a reader to live.

I know one of the recipes for a reading funk is to read an old favorite, something that you love. For me that would be The Lord of the Rings, or The Hobbit, or maybe the Narnia series or the Prydain Chronicles, or the delightful Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norell. Maybe I should go back to my old standbys. Maybe that will bring me out of the funk.

The problem is, I don’t really want to read any of these old favorites. I want something new. I started Cerulean Sea with high hopes that it would be enrapture me, excite me, stir my imagination. It was mildly diverting, but alas, it was not transcendent.

I don’t want the same old thing, I want something surprising. A love for fantasy is driven, on some level, with a love for the unusual, for exploration and discovery. I’ve been to Middle-Earth oftener than any other imaginary world, and while I love it the best, I want to see new vistas too, if I can.

I think part of my difficulty is that I’m trying to read too many things at once. I have my book club book, and my nonfiction books, and my fantasy fiction books, and my collection of Chesterton essays, and my Bradbury short story collection, and my poetry anthology, and on and on.

This approach can work if I stick to the poetry and the essays and the nonfiction. But if I want to read a novel and really enjoy it, I need to COMMIT. That means reading the novel — and only the novel — for large chunks of time. It means pushing through even when the story hasn’t grabbed me yet. It means staying faithful until the end, or until I decide the book isn’t for me and DNF it. I can’t play the field when I’m reading fiction. I need to be monogamous. Fiction is an immersive experience, so I need to dive into the depths and not come up for air.

This means making a choice. Do I go with the dark fantasy indie or the classic fantasy from the 1990s? Or do I dump them both and return to Sanderson’s Stormlight Archives, a series in which I’m two books behind? Or do I totally zag and read that Appendix N book my husband got me for my birthday?

To get out of a funk I have to make a difficult choice. I have to say “yes” to one book and “no” to many others. I have to commit, and that means I might make a bad choice. But it must be done. It’s the only way to push through. At least for me.

I’m not the type of person who only reads one book at a time. I usually have at least one fiction book going and one non-fiction. But these days, it’s getting out of hand.

Currently I’m reading Unfinished Tales by Tolkien, Kothar and the Magic Sword, a collection of Clark Ashton Smith stories, the first Brother Cadfael mystery, and Heart of Stone by Ben Galley. I’m also supposed to be reading the Lais of Marie de France. That’s just the fiction.

Non-fiction includes 100 Essays I Don’t Have Time to Write and the Freelancer’s Survival Guide, and I just picked up Learning by Heart by Jan Stewart and Corita Kent, and David Morrell’s The Successful Novelist. I am also kinda, sorta reading Middle-Earth and the Return of the Common Good, and Writing the Character-Centered Screenplay.

Is this too much?

I kinda, sorta think this is too much. The fiction is suffering because I can’t get fully immersed in any of these books. I’m bopping around too much. I know I need to commit and just read ONE all the way through, but it’s been hard. My attention span is garbage.

The non-fiction is different because it’s not so much about immersion as it is about information. I can flit from topic to topic when it comes to information and not lose the thread or the thesis of each book.

But for the fiction, I feel like I need to pick one book and read it all the way through. Trouble is, I’m not sure which one to pick first. I’m afraid if I commit to any one in particular, I’ll forget what was happening in the others and have to start them over.

The reason I want to commit to one fiction book at a time is because I’m worried that my garbage attention span is only going to get worse if I don’t act now. I need to put in the effort to get my brain to be more focused; I need to regain the skill of sitting with a single work of literature and reading it straight through. I’m not against having multiple books going at a time, but I also think it’s good practice to stay with one book without detours. Something tells me this is an important skill and one I need to cultivate again.