It’s Time To Stop Being So Neurotic About Goodreads

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Yes, you read that title right. This post is a public service announcement about the health of readers.

Now, before I go any further, it needs to be clarified: This is nothing against Goodreads. I love Goodreads. (With a couple of minus exceptions, which I’ll reach soon here.) Please do not think I am slamming the website. I’m a Goodreads author, for the love of Pete. This discussion refers much more to the attitude and mindset many users of the site have adopted — and here’s why we need to change that.

First, let’s list the problems I’m going to address:

One: People develop a serious fear of missing out syndrome by viewing their friends’ TBRs.

Two: Readers add books to their TBRs in numbers that hit digits scientists exploring the vast outreaches of space cannot fathom.

Three: Reading (and the subsequent) reviewing becomes a chore, a burden, or actually hazardous to your health.

Okay, time to tackle all of these bit by bit. With nice pictures of cuteness and beauty thrown in to alleviate the pain. Of course. Because it’s me, and I’m kind.

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One: People develop a serious fear of missing out syndrome by viewing their friends’ TBRs.

One of my minor quibbles about Goodreads is the fact the entire world can view your TBR (also known as To Be Read list). (Also known as “These are the books I feel I must finish reading before I die so that I will be assured I lived a whole and fruitful existence.”)

Anyway, the reason I add titles to my GR TBR is quite simply so that I won’t forget I came across an interesting-sounding novel. Rather than spending countless hours sitting in front of my open library account, wailing, “WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT CALLED?!”, I can just check my GR TBR, and within minutes, have placed hold requests for all the books released in the past year that I think I’ll want to read.

Every once in a while, titles are removed from my list, because either I changed my mind (yes, that IS permitted), or I switched the title to another list (like the “Save for later” in my Amazon or Barnes & Noble carts). I like the idea of “divide and conquer” that this tactic provides. It makes me feel that I am accomplishing massive tasks in bite-sized chunks, and that in itself is satisfying.

However, what I don’t care for regarding the TBR feature is the fact anyone who is your friend or follows you on the website can see which books you’ve added. Most people honestly will not take the time to browse their friends’ selections — but, still, I don’t think this feature is beneficial. Whenever I’ve taken a gander, I can concretely say that two things occur: A) I feel like I don’t know these people’s reading tastes very well (which can draw me closer to, or farther from, their page), or B) I am absolutely dumbstruck by how many great books are out there that I haven’t read yet.

The latter actually does present a very valid problem. “Fear of missing out syndrome” is a real psychological thing, which has increased in our collective consciousness in the internet age. We see that 1,849 random strangers are enjoying this new movie, that we have never even heard of, but now immediately need to find a cinema that’s showing it, and attend the first available viewing. If we stay home and watch reruns of The X-Files, we’ll worry that we’ve missed out on some fantastic cultural experience.

Something similar happens for bookworms, bookwyrms, or bookdragons. We begin adding multiple titles to our TBR that we have no genuine interest in reading…but “everybody else” in our sphere of online life is reviewing it, excited about it, or mentioning it approximately 6 times an hour. Hence, we don’t want to “miss out.”

Now, here’s why this is a bad pattern: Taste is subjective. Some people love mystery novels, others sci-fi, others fantasy, others still romance, others still unapologetic erotica, or horror, or political memoirs, or the autobiographies of hedgehogs. It’s why determining what makes “good” and “bad” literature is so difficult — everyone has varying preferences for style, genre, content, and content rating (G, PG, etc.). It’s one of the precious and important marks of a free society — that we’re allowed to write and publish and read pretty much whatever the heck we choose to. And I wholeheartedly support it.

But what has happened to the part of a free society that pushes aside the crowd-think mindset, and encourages individuals to form their own opinions?

Readers, this is what I suggest: STOP adding a particular title to your TBR purely because 1, 4, or 279 people you know did. Wish them well in their literary endeavors, and concentrate on your own. Do NOT feel guilty or ashamed about this decision. Own it. Be proud of it.

And just don’t peruse your internet neighbors’ TBRs. Check out new releases by authors you love, read reviews on titles that catch your interest, be happy if a friend (or 279 of them) agree a certain novel or manga or author’s grocery list sounds amazing. But don’t stare at your computer screen and click the mouse until your eyes go bloodshot, intent on turning your TBR into an exact replica of someone else’s in the community.

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Two: Readers add books to their TBRs in numbers that hit digits scientists exploring the vast outreaches of space cannot fathom.

There are many registered users of Goodreads who legit have a TBR of hundreds, even thousands, of titles. To compare, mine usually hovers around 30 to 40. For one thing, this is so that I don’t become overwhelmed. For another, I personally follow the sage advice that 42 is the most complete number of all creation (being the answer to life, the universe, and everything), so that’s my limit for a lot of things I undertake.

But others may feel they can handle greater numbers, even triple digits, when it comes to their reading adventures. To which I say, good for them. Except. Except the lack of practicality enters it. Assuming it takes you about a week to finish reading a book, and there are only so many weeks in a year, and humans are only supposed to live about 75 years, and we don’t even learn to read until we’re about 6…

When would you sleep? Would you actually skip school or call in “sick” to work to tick another box off your reading list? What about vacations, illness, emergencies, times when you’re stranded on a desert island or edge of a volcano without any access to a library? Or attendance at weddings, christenings, funerals, graduations — when it’s just plain rude to have your nose stuck in a book? (No matter how good said book is.)

I’m sure this part of the discussion starts to border on ridiculous, but I am relaying, quite honestly, my concern for my fellow bookdragons. What if (in all seriousness) you died suddenly, and the biggest unfinished portion of your life would appear to be your TBR? Not, like, the fact you were planning to become a scientist who found the cure for cancer.

There are people who joke on Twitter about being crushed to death by their TBRs. The numbers racked up by these individuals could apparently give the national debt a run for its (ha) money. Astronomers who are peering into super-powerful telescopes, hoping to discover the exact spot in the universe where the Big Bang took place, have in fact seen these incredibly tall stacks of books waiting to be read, stretching through people’s roofs, into the stratosphere.

(Okay, yes, I made that last part up. Hopefully.)

And borderline-silly debate aside, while reading is always good, collecting books can grow out of control. We’ve all seen the photos on Instagram of people whose bookcases have taken over their house, and they own dozens of copies they haven’t even opened, and in some cases have flatout forgot why they bought it to begin with. This is nearly an addiction. The act of having plenty of paperbacks, hardcovers, used, new, shiny, pretty, unattractive, worn, mint-condition, loved, hated, hyped to others, in one’s general vicinity giving more of a sense of comfort and excitement than just, you know…reading a book and enjoying it, does not seem healthy.

Again, none of this is Goodreads’ fault. Their system is soooo easy — the “want to read” button is right there underneath every single title. BUT. That does not mean you have to click on it. When GR sends you recommendations, you don’t have to pay attention to them.

What I’m suggesting here is: Develop and exhibit self-control, folks. The world will not end if you limit yourself to reading 10 new books a year. Reading is absolutely fantastic, sharing stories and information that way is something I will never oppose. But so is life, and family, friends, pets, and there’s value in taking 3 weeks and 4 days to reach the last page of a 7-chapter middle-grade novel. We need to stop competing with each other. Reading for pleasure is meant to be just that.

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Three: Reading (and the subsequent) reviewing becomes a chore, a burden, or actually hazardous to your health.

Book blogging came out of nowhere to become a thing less than a decade ago. It is just as rapidly becoming not a thing, as bloggers are vanishing from the internet, either literally disappearing without a trace (are we to assume alien abduction??), or stating they are shutting down their website because of too much stress.

Too much stress? From discussing your favorite books with people?

Yupper. Whereas in the early years, like-minded folks would gather together and happily flail over their shared love of a specific author or genre, nowadays there are way too many vicious trolls around. Individuals who evidently will wither and perish unless they inflict nastiness on ordinary people who simply stated an unpopular opinion.

Here’s what I say to this: The trolls deserve to wither and perish.

We are supposed to be civilized. As civilized human beings, BE NICE. If you vehemently disagree with someone and feel a pressing need to say so, BE POLITE. I’ve had mature and tactful discussions with people who felt I was dead wrong on what I thought of their favorite book or author. I welcome the debate. When there’s no foul language, personal attack, or nearly-illegal threats involved, I’m totally fine with it.

Again, this isn’t at all to be chalked up to Goodreads allowing free and open discourse. (Some users would claim this is true.) I applaud GR for not automatically shutting down dissent. (Remember, folks, democracy, we literally bleed and die to have it.) And everybody has the option to remove offensive comments from their own account, or to block a specific person that just is refusing to learn the Golden Rule.

So that’s how we can take care of ourselves. And we can take care of our friends by supporting an online environment where free thought is permitted to flourish, and where trolls are not. I really hate to see people leaving a website or internet space they previously loved because of a few bad apples — but I hate it even more when those bad apples are rotten to the core. That’s bullying, and it’s just wrong. Period.

So, there are my reasons for everybody to rein in their burgeoning Goodreads addiction. Remember, my fellow bookdragons, read and LOVE it. Read BECAUSE you love it. Use the website as a tool to streamline and make your life easier. Connect with each other. Take care of one another. Stay beautiful.

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