“He loved books, those undemanding but faithful friends.”
Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
Every year, Goodreads (which is by far my favorite social media) invites its users to set a reading goal. It’s a fun way to keep yourself accountable, to push yourself to pick up a new book, and to give yourself a feeling of accomplishment at the end of each year.
I’ve participated since 2013, and I usually meet my goal. One year in particular, I was a recently married college student taking several challenging courses and working two internships. Because of my Goodreads reading goal, I was spending most of my free time reading. I was behind on my goal, but I was determined to meet it. I would come home from work, make dinner, finish my schoolwork, and immediately retreat into a book.
My husband never once complained, but I know that he often wanted to spend time with me and was rejected in favor of a book. One day I was holed up in our bedroom reading when I suddenly wondered what it was all for. Why was I, a new wife very much in love with her husband, spending all of my time reading instead of being with the person I’d chosen to spend my life with? What was I gaining?
Reading had come to feel like another assignment instead of a happy pastime. I was certainly enjoying the books I read, but there was an element of obligation to it that I didn’t like. I asked myself why the reading goal was so important. What would happen if I didn’t meet my goal? The answer was nothing. I’d still read a substantial number of books that year. I’d broadened my horizons and gone on some amazing literary adventures. I decided then and there that enough was enough.
I didn’t make my goal that year, and honestly it was fine. I’ve continued to participate in Goodreads’ reading challenge. Sometimes I make it. Sometimes I don’t. I’ve decided that the goal is just that—a goal. It’s not mandatory. It’s not even that important. It’s just something to shoot for. That decision has allowed me the flexibility to spend time doing the things that are important to me. Sometimes that’s reading and sometimes it’s not. Does that mean I love books any less? I don’t think so.
Happy reading and Happy New Year!
