[2021-05-13] Start, quit, reread
I've been listening to Michelle Obama's book Becoming on my morning walks. It's impeccably written, exquisitely detailed, expertly narrated and surprisingly humble. I say "surprisingly humble" because she recounts events in a way that doesn't always paint her in the best light. I admire that and find that her authenticity makes the book a joy to listen to.
I also recently listened to Victor Frankl's Man's Search for Meaning. It was riveting. I know this because sometimes, when I would arrive back home at the end of my walk, I would continue to pace around my neighbourhood just so that I could hear a little bit more of his story. You'd think that Frankl's descriptions of his life in concentration camps would be depressing to hear about, but he writes in a way that pulls meaning out of suffering. And I found that fact both comforting and enlightening.
I've listened to or read quite a few books since I started my health leave, and shared my learnings from many of them, including:
- I Must Say (Martin Short)
During the same period, I started and gave up on countless other books.
I used to think that abandoning a book, half read, reflected negatively on me. Was I not committed enough? Was I too easily bored? Was I too lazy to see the book through to its end?
Later, I realized that certain books were just not for me, like an unpleasant item picked up at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I decided that some books were worth reading to the end, while others were not. And I concluded that I didn't need to judge the book, or its author, as good or bad. All I needed to do was to determine whether the book meshed with my interests and needs.
Today, in his weekly email newsletter, Atomic Habits author James Clear wrote something that reflected on this dilemma. He offered "A recipe for getting more out of what you read: Start more books. Quit most of them. Read the great ones twice."
This went even further than my own thinking. Rather than resigning myself to the idea that a given book maybe wasn't for me, I could embrace this fact. I could even make a virtue out of it. Quitting most books would create the time and space to start more books and to reread the best of the bunch. It wasn't insufficient commitment or boredom or laziness that led me to give up on certain books, but astute decision-making.
Clear's assertion reminded me of a related one from prolific writer Seth Godin, who offered this formula: "Read, read, write" or, expressed another way, "Read more than you write." This was the counsel that Emily Kate Boyd took from Godin during her participation in Seth's Alternative MBA program. She recalled: "Our reading assignments moved in this pattern—read, review, and share the take-aways with the group and with everyone you possibly can."
I can vouch for the value of identifying and sharing take-aways from books. The best books (and "best" simply means the ones that appeal to me) seep into my consciousness, tumble out of my mouth, and emanate from my fingertips. I can't help but pass along my learnings from a good book. And once I do, I am more likely to remember the book's content.
When I share my impressions from a book, I sometimes hear from others that they rarely make it all the way through books that they pick up. They probably believe—just as I used to—that this reflects some failing on their part. However, if we all knew that the goal isn't to finish many books but rather to find the few that really resonate with us, then we'd all probably spend more time reading.
