2020: Setting Reading Goals

My goal for the new year is to read more. But what does that look like? How can I measure it?

He’s a reading goal-tender. Get it?

My last post talked about reading 200 books, which was a pretty big deal for me. Of course, though, my relationship with books doesn’t end there. It just started down a brand new path. Take this blog for example.

It’s already three weeks into the new year, but it’s never too late to set resolutions. Like everyone, I have personal goals, but “being a better person” and “cutting out caffeine” don’t have much to do with reading.

My overall goal is to read more in the new year. There’s a trick to setting good goals though, and while I won’t pretend to be some life-expert career coach, I can say “read more” falls short of being sufficient.

What does reading more look like? How will I know when I’ve reached that goal? If I read just one book this year, that technically means I’ve “read more,” but that’s hardly satisfying is it?

When setting a goal, it’s important to pick something clear, achievable, and measurable. So when I say I want to read more, I need to identify ways to validate that success. Otherwise I’m groping vaguely around in the darkness towards some unforeseen end.

Therefore, my specific goal for 2020 to is to read an average of 30 minutes a day.

Average. Math is a beautiful thing. It’s hard for me to admit, but I don’t usually read on a daily basis. My brain likes to cycle through my hobbies, so I usually throw myself deep into one project (or game, or book) at a time until it’s either a) finished or b) boring. That means I tend to read intensely for a few days at a time, take a break, then circle back. I can read several books in a week – it’s just condensed. But the catch is that I can average it all out to about 30 minutes a day, or 183 hours in a year, and I can work on making reading a daily habit at some later point.

Thirty minutes is not an arbitrary number. I was inspired by this video from Max Joseph (of Catfish the TV Show fame) which talks about how to read more books. It’s been a while since I’ve seen the video, but my main take away was that by just adding 30 minutes of reading to your day (which thanks to audiobooks can be done while you’re doing less exciting tasks like getting dressed or commuting – yay multitasking!) you can significantly increase the amount of books you get through. Thirty minutes works out to about 2% of my day, and if I can commit even that much time, I’ll hit milestones like 250 books or even 300 books in a flash.

And while I’m secretly hoping I’ll surpass this 30-minute-average goal, I’m hesitant to push for more. I suffered a lot when reading became an assignment, and I don’t want to do anything to make this goal seem like a chore. There’s no need to over-achieve here.

I actually have more than one reading goal for this year though. The second one I’ve set for myself is to read more diverse literature.

In breaking down the 200 books I’ve already read, I realized that an overwhelming number of them were written by white authors, predominately male. This shocked me because I had figured my reading list was more well-rounded. But I’ve come to realize my perception was badly skewed. The books that I had read from POC authors, for example, stood out so much that I figured there were more of them than there actually were.

Reading diverse literature is important. It helps foster empathy, develops critical thinking, and helps one considerate their own identity. There are a lot of articles about it on the internet, including this one by Swoonreads that I like. A lot of these articles talk specifically about children’s literature, but it’s important for adults to branch out in their reading, too. If all of your literature comes out of a small white box, you’ll start to think your world is contained in that small white box, too.

That being said, there are also a crazy number of talented authors that get overlooked because of the way the literary landscape is made up, and this is just one way to discover some good stuff.

Setting a clear goal for reading more diverse books is a little sticky, and I struggle to find a concrete one that would be satisfactory. Being conscious of the fact that I’m taking every precaution not to make this a task, I also don’t want to assign myself a specific number of books or number of authors. In this respect, I’m much more comfortable dealing with percentages, so I’m aiming to increase my overall percentage of books by non-white authors by at least 1%. This means that when looking at my running list of books, including the 200 that I read before the start of this year, if my total percentage of non-white authors has increased at all, I’ll have met this goal.

This is not a huge goal, but it is enough to make me more conscientious in selecting my future reads.

Finally, I have a third goal, and it’s arguably my most superficial. I want to read more contemporary literature.

I say it’s superficial because in general, I don’t really care when a book is published. But I have noticed a sizable gap in my reading list. I didn’t read a single book published in 2019 (my average reading year is 1950, what do you expect?)

Contemporary literature can be an accessibility issue. New books tend to be expensive, and I’m a former broke college kid turned broke post-grad who can’t really afford the price tag, especially at the volume I read. I also don’t have space for new books, but my inability to let go of any book I ever own is a whole other issue.

I’m lucky to live in a library system that lets me check out a book anywhere in the county, but I don’t always have time to get to the library. But, honestly, bless the world of audiobooks and e-books. If you have a library card, you most likely have access to that library’s digital collection as well, and while it can be frustrating dealing with the limited number of electronic “copies” of certain titles, I’ve never had trouble finding something I’ve wanted to read.

But again, how do I measure success? To increase my average reading year wouldn’t mean much when you consider that even reading books only published in 1987 would raise it. This is one case where I have to set a specific numerical goal: in 2020 I plan to read at least 5 books published between 2018 and 2020.

Not everyone likes to sit and set goals, and this is the first time I’ve set such substantial and specific ones. Having looked so deeply at my previous reading habits definitely helped me figure out places to fill gaps. I can technically hit all three of these goals at once by reading 5 very long books by POC authors published in 2019, but that takes the fun out of it. Instead, I look forward to enjoying both the flexibility and the challenge. They’re definitely not rules, so I can still read whatever I want, but there’s a good dose of discipline added to the mix.

I do also have a substantial amount of time to accomplish these goals. I could spend the next three months reading nothing but Romantic poetry and still have enough time to divert course before the end of the year.

Do you have reading goals for the new year? Share them down below!

200 Books – my history with reading

Just before New Year’s and the turn of the decade, I reached a relatively large personal goal of mine – I read my 200th book. This was a long time coming considering this counts all the books I’ve read in my lifetime. Number 200 was Anne Bogel’s Reading People: How Seeing the World Through the Lens of Personality Changes Everything, a title I found on Kindle Unlimited and didn’t have strong opinions on. It made hitting the big two-zero-zero a little anticlimactic, but I was okay with it not being more impressive. I know not every book on my list is going to be a star.

I don’t know if 200 books is a lot, but it felt like a good even number to reach for. I set this goal for myself when I started compiling a list of all the books I’ve ever read and realized I was fairly close at about 185. What you might not expect from such a bookish person such as myself is an intense love for spreadsheets, but something about a well-organized list just hits the spot for me, so about a year ago I started compiling this list as a personal project.

This became an ongoing spreadsheet that tracks the books I’ve read and a lot of information on each book. I track just about everything from the author’s name to the publishing year to my general thoughts on the book. It’s a time consuming effort, but it is incredibly satisfying to see it done.

A disclaimer

I’ve reached 200 titles, but it feels important to mention that I had to make decisions about what to include on my list. If you’re interested in doing this yourself (and I am certainly not the first one to do so), your list may end up looking radically different. For example, I included books of poetry whereas someone else might not. I didn’t include textbooks and other instructional books from school. One or two made the cut (see Maria Tatar’s book on fairytales, for example) though, so my rules aren’t exactly firm. I didn’t include children’s books before around 2nd grade (7-8 years old) just because it would be impossible to reach that far back. I did, however, include books that I didn’t completely finish, justifying that by saying that if I don’t include re-reads in my overall page count, it all balances out somewhere – you might prefer to only count the exact number of pages you’ve read or leave an unfinished book off the list entirely. It’s the beauty of choice.

And while my memory for this sort of thing is surprisingly strong (or so I think), it’s absolutely not perfect, and there are definitely books missing from the list.

So 200 is actually kind of a fuzzy number, but I feel that it’s a pretty accurate reflection of what I’ve accomplished since I became a “big reader” (Again I’m hesitant to say 200 is actually a big number without having anything to compare it to. I know plenty of people my age who seem to eat books for breakfast and plenty of people my age who haven’t cracked a book in years.) Regardless, having this spreadsheet helps me look at the trends and habits in ways that I would not otherwise have been able to.

What exactly have I learned?

The titles

There’s not a whole lot to say about the titles of my books title-wise except to say that, when alphabetized, Charles Dickens’s A Christmas Carol is at the top and M. Nourbese Phillip’s Zong! Is at the bottom (and 1984 is the only numerical title.) It’s funny to me that these books also happen to be about as different as you can get.

Not a single title starts with the letter K, Q, or X. I’d like to fix that so that I have at least one book for every letter of the alphabet, so please, send reading suggestions if you have them.

Series were kept together, but I’ve rarely finished them. The Harry Potter series seems to be the only one I reached the end of.

And for those who are wondering, I elected to keep the’s ahead of their titles (The Giver versus Giver, The.)

The authors

The most popular authors were JK Rowling (7 titles), William Shakespeare (6 titles), Limony Snickett (6 titles), R.L. Stine (6 titles*) Stephanie Meyer (4 titles), Gordon Korman (3 titles), and Lois Lowry (3 titles). Looking at this list, I wouldn’t call any of these authors my “favorite,” and it’s also pretty telling about my general disinterest in long series.

*I’ve definitely read more of R.L. Stine’s books, but I included the ones I knew for sure that I had read. I’ll make a post about the Goosebumps series sometime in the future.

I kept biographical data on the authors which resulted some interesting findings. It’s no surprise to me that most of the books were written by white men (I would say “old” white men, but I didn’t keep track of anyone’s birth year) given just how many of them I read for school. About 170 of the 200 books were written by white authors, and 115 of the 200 were written by men. Most of the authors came from either England/the UK or the United States, with a few guest appearances by Canadians.

The worst realization for me was that a number of books I thought were written by non-white authors were in fact written by white authors (or books I thought were written by non-Americans were actually written by Americans.) Julie of the Wolves is a good example. I read it in about 4th grade so I wasn’t thinking too deeply about authorship at the time, but I was genuinely surprised to rediscover it was written by a lady named Jean Craighead Moore.

In general, I don’t usually pick books by their authors and instead read tend to gloss over authors entirely in favor of content, but I do think there’s a lot to gain from reading a diverse selection. Reading more books from authors of different backgrounds (as well as more books in translation, given I’ve read maybe 25 books not originally written in English) is a goal of mine for this new year.

Page count

Page count is probably my favorite part of this list. I’ve read approximately 57,590 pages, which is a crazy high and seemingly meaningless number. It’s so far from a million, yet it feels like I’ve read a million pages.

57,590 pages over 200 books averages out to about 289 pages per book. I love to watch this average go up and down as I add to the list. I’m trying to push this number higher by reading bigger books, but it’s a surprisingly hard thing to do. Ah, statistics.

The smallest title is Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper at 29 pages. This is actually a short story, but I have no desire to take it off my list.

The 25 to 100 page range is mostly poetry, and books I read in elementary school average about 150 pages.

The longest titles are Ezra Pound’s The Cantos and JK Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix at 896 pages each (depending on the edition) following by Dan Simmons’s The Terror at 784. Only one of these books I really enjoyed, and I’ll leave you to decide which.

Publication year

This is the next best part of the spreadsheet because once again I can watch the average number bounce up and down.

The earliest title on my list is Sophocles’s Oedipus Rex from around the year 429. The most recent is George Saunders’s Lincoln in the Bardo published in 2018. The average year is 1940, so clearly I don’t read a ton of contemporary work.

I think it might be interesting to go back and make a list of every year from 1800 to 2020 and try to check off a book from each year, but that is a lot of books. I haven’t even read anything from 2019 yet, which really makes me doubt my status as a book worm.

Format

I did my best to keep track of what formats I read these books in to the best of my memory. Physical books (hard cover and soft cover) dominate, but audiobooks and digital formats are on the rise as about 90% of the books I’ve read in the past few months fall into that category. I absolutely love physical books and do prefer them when I can, but there’s a lot to be said about the convenience of the other formats.

Purpose

As I said in my introductory post, going to college sort of killed my love for (and my time for!) reading for fun, so it’s not surprising to me to see that only 6 of the 33 books I read during graduate school were for fun (I did better in undergrad where 21 of the 53 books I read were for fun.)

I’m happy to report, though, that every single one of the 28 books I’ve read since graduation (9 months ago!) were read for fun.

14 of the 38 books I read during high school were for fun. I’m close to having read more in a year than I did over the whole four years of high school, which I think says a lot about how I read when I’m not being told to do so.

Genre

I almost didn’t include genre 1) because it can be tricky to define and 2) it says very little about my reading. Most of the books I read fall into the vague category of “fiction” but it is genuinely a pretty mixed bag. I read poetry, non-fiction, memoir, fantasy, historical fiction – a little bit of everything. Again, I read what seems interesting, so there’s not much for me to say about genre. I couldn’t even pick a favorite if you asked.

& In Conclusion

Looking at my reading in this way has helped me tremendously in understanding what I read and how I read, and I highly recommend it to anyone with a great love for books. I also find it motivating, as I love getting to fill out a new line in the sheet and see the data move. Geeky, but it works.

It also helps me set goals for the future. I can’t say I expect to read 100 new books in 2020, but I think 50 is a healthy number. I also hope to push towards some purposeful changes in the data – maybe raising the average number of pages in a book or the percentage of foreign-published books I read. As someone who is still trying to recover from a reading burn-out, I’ll take any motivation I can find to read something new.

Hello world.

I’ve started this blog as a concentrated effort to revitalize my love for reading. I’m looking to repair my relationship with books and become that excited, hungry reader again.

Hey. I drew this myself.

Naming the Blog

The spine of a book is the outer hinge where all the pages are gathered and bound together. It is one of the most crucial elements of the book. The gutter of a book is the valley that forms between the pages, only appearing when the book is open. This blog is named after these two elements – one, the spine, being more concrete and recognizable while the other, the gutter, is a transient space defined by absence – as a tribute to the technology of the book.

This is not to dismiss any other forms of reading. My love and appreciation for audiobooks and e-books have grown substantially in the past few years, and they contribute largely to the number of books I am able to read. However, the physical book is a magical form that simply cannot be bested.

This Blog’s Purpose

This blog is a tribute to all books, whether they be physical books or not.

I’ve started this blog as a concentrated effort to revitalize my love for reading. I have two degrees in English, which means I spent several years reading very intensely – several hundred pages a week most of the time (all efforts to estimate the exact number have failed for one reason or another, mostly laziness.) While I have few regrets about what I chose to study, the experience had an undeniable impact on my relationship with reading. In elementary and middle school, I was a voracious reader who read for the fun of it. By college (or maybe even by high school), it had become work, a task I had to perform, a deadline I had to meet, a long-winded process that took the joy out of it.

I can’t ever fully remove myself from that world, and I do think the habits I developed made me a better reader. However, I’m looking to repair my relationship with books and become that excited, hungry reader again. This blog will be a place where I can once again approach books with passion, joy, and love.

It will also be a space to talk about craft. For nearly as long as I have been able to read, I have also been a writer. I’ve always been fascinated by the possibilities writing presents, and I’ve always itched to be a creator. In fact, this passion is exactly what pushed me through college. I took every opportunity to learn to write better. Academic writing was one thing, and I greatly enjoyed it on its own merits. But creative writing was its own world, one that I launched myself into head first.

By the time I graduated, I had taken nearly every creative writing course I could load onto my plate and finished out with five semesters of fiction workshops (and one of poetry, which I liked, but wasn’t spectacular at.) I even did my thesis work in creative fiction. And while I’ve been on a hiatus since graduation, writing is nearly always on my mind.

One thing that every single writing professor I studied with emphasized was the need for a writer to read. It’s a necessary step to learning the craft, and it is one of the most efficient ways to do it. Therefore, one thing I hope to make a focal point on this blog is a discussion of craft – what elements I see moving around in what I’ve been reading, the clever tricks I hope to steal for my own writing, and how I would change or challenge a text if I were its author.

I’m no master of writing, nor am I the most well-read (there are a lot of books I’m “supposed” to have read but have never even read a page of.) But that’s what makes this project so exciting for me.

The future opens up as a wide and wandering path, and I am ready to embark.