Does A Book Dragon Really Change Its Reading Scales?

I was out of control. I’d acquire a stack of library books, all due at the same time, add to the bunch of subscription box books I hadn’t yet read, spend a few days reading the first few pages of the library selections and tossing them all aside, and still not getting to the books I already owned. Put this cycle on rinse and repeat, in an infinite loop.

This was the cycle I was stuck in, even before the start of the pandemic. I couldn’t get into anything I tried to read. I was frustrated with overdone tropes, recycled plots, one-dimensional characters, series whose lives were being unnecessarily prolonged by greedy publishers. The joy of finding a new title or author had been sucked out of me. Cynicism was setting in, and growing.

So, my New Year’s resolution for 2021 was, simply but profoundly: To change the way I chose books.

I set some ground rules right away: Try to find brand-new-to-me authors. If I stumbled back on a title or series I’d started but abandoned years ago, and it was feeling right for the present moment, jump on it. If it was the latest in a series I’d struggled with in the past, let it go. If popular genres aren’t working anymore, explore further afield.

Also, if I bought it, if it’s sat on my shelf for more than 6 months without being touched, time to move it to the top of the TBR.

I was the bookdragon equivalent of a leopard trying to change its spots — focusing, appropriately, on changing my reading scales.

The scales that shone with delight over Terry Pratchett and Maggie Stiefvater could absolutely keep glowing. The ones that got a little grayish over too much high fantasy and mystery novels ballooning to 500 pages deserved some sprucing up. The ones that turned black with disappointment, regret, or angst over the dystopia craze and vampires turning sparkly were allowed to fall off and die peacefully.

I also decided I want to listen to more audiobooks, explore more anthologies, and get back to requesting ARCs. I determined the focus needed to be on what I really wanted to read, rather than stabbing blindly in the dark and snatching up everything I made contact with.

In some ways, I’ve had success so far. There’s an anthology of short stories ARC on its way to me. I finally read The Lunar Chronicles, and enjoyed it. I discovered an awesome YA fantasy, City of the Plague God. For my book club this month, the topic is non-fiction, and that’s definitely more palatable via audio format.

On the other hand, I’m discovering that some losses will have to be accepted. One: I do believe I have exhausted the library system. Better take a year off from searching for titles that just aren’t owned by any libraries in my area. Two: Audiobooks are great, but with the big switch to apps like Audible for many people, libraries are carrying less CDs, and that’s a huge issue for me, since I don’t own a cell phone or tablet. Three: I still hate the tropes I already hated, and styles I already found dull are still boring when a narrator is reading the text out loud.

And the temptation to put off reading the books I already own, in favor of smothering myself with piles of borrowed copies, still exists.

But I refuse to give up. I was much happier when I focused on reading stuff I knew I’d like — and then occasionally be let down — instead of trying to consume every single popular title out there, and then feeling confused or sad when they fell woefully short for me.

And life is too damn short, don’t we all know by now.

So, I probably won’t finish as many books per year as I had been. Oh, well. I’ve already banned myself from joining new subscription boxes or programs. So my wallet will thank me. And I honestly don’t mind maintaining my status as the only person in the book club who reads fantasy. (Yes, I know!)

And therefore, I press on!

Just give me a few minutes to rearrange that stack of brand-new hardcovers collecting dust in the corner and make room on my shelves for the haul I brought home last weekend. They won’t fit next to the Terry Pratchett or the Maggie Stiefvater, because of the library discards I brought in the week before that.