Each year I set a reading goal of 100 books – this includes books of any length, genre, or media. When I tell people about my number, I always feel the need to clarify that I include audiobooks in this total. Between illness early in the year and the increase of time spent at home in 2020, I exceeded the goal. I crushed it. I worked the last week of the year to bring my total up to 100 PRINT books read.
Moving the finish line seems like a cruel way to reward achievement, so I kept my goal for 2021 at 100. However, I suspected I would exceed the goal again. At this point, I’m definitely on track for that. I’ve read 57 of the 100 books I aim to complete this year. I’ve got systems in place to keep my reading habits going. Both my local library and its companion ebook catalog via Tennessee Reads keep books in my hand despite the fast turnover.
All this progress, however, doesn’t seem to help this rut I’ve found myself in these past few weeks. Despite my “online shopping” for ebooks, trips to the library to walk through the stacks for inspiration, and perusing the shelves of books that I own, I still can’t seem to get a hold of a book that makes me want to read right now.
I’m annoyed at myself and growing more exasperated as I pick up, only to immediately disregard new titles. When I zoom out at the big picture, I feel ashamed and ungrateful. Complaining about a two-week slump after 15 months of strong reading habits seems a bit like the skinny girl complaining about her lack of thigh gap. Still, I miss reading and keep hoping that that the next book will be the leap* home.
*That said, I’ve been binge-watching some of my favorite television shows. Maybe Quantum Leap should be next?