The Ridiculous Irresistible Wonderful Act of Counting How Many Books I've Read This Year
320 Sycamore Studios believes that reading with kids can change the world for the better. Each month (except for August), we publish one original story and one post on books and reading. Everything is written by humans.
I'm keeping track of how many books I've read this year.
It's ridiculous and irresistible and wonderful.
It’s ridiculous because …
I risk having nothing else to talk about at parties, unless somebody asks, “Read any good books lately?”
Isn’t there enough quantification in the world? Do we have to measure everything?
Maybe my choices will be warped by a need to hit some arbitrary numerical goal for the year. (“Can’t do the Dickens. Gotta stay on pace!”)
I may not linger over books. It's always: "Next!"
A “book” can be arbitrary. Do I count the wonderful YA graphic novel “This One Summer,” by Jillian Tamaki and Mariko Tamaki? How about the mostly wordless “Here” (the basis for the recent movie of the same name), by Richard McGuire? Or a graduation-speech-turned-into-a-book — “In Conclusion, Don't Worry About It,” by actor Lauren Graham? Sure, why not? This is all for fun anyway.
It’s irresistible because …
It is a numbers world. Sigh. GPA. Batting average. The Dow. BMI. Economic growth. SATs. Likes. Subscribes. Open rates. Star ratings. Ten thousand steps. Ten thousand hours. Etc. Etc. Etc. The temptation to convert reading to a number is strong. I am only human.
It’s wonderful because …
I find myself reading everywhere. (And by "read" I also mean "listen to audiobooks.") Waiting in line. Driving to pick up a teen from softball practice. Walking the dog. Doing dishes. Taking the train. Vacuuming. On a run. In the tub.
I’m not too precious about what I read next. Why worry if the book isn’t life-changing? I'll be on to the next one in a few days.
Because the pressure is off, there's more room for serendipity. I pick up books I might not otherwise have chosen, like Virginia Sorensen's 1957 Newbery winner "Miracles on Maple Hill" or Lois Lowry's "All About Sam" or secondary Steinbecks. All great!
It just feels kinda cool. I'll probably read 100+ books this year and I suspect it will feel good in the way that running a marathon or cycling a double century or taking a round-the-world trip feels good. The goals themselves aren't really the point, but they can orient your life around an interesting theme. My reading this year includes a bunch of middle-grade books; plays (you can zip through the Oedipus trilogy in a weekend); and essays-disguised-as-books (James Baldwin's "The Fire Next Time"; Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie's "We Should All Be Feminists"). There are some denser books, too. "The Log from the 'Sea of Cortez.'" A handful of Shakespeare plays. Mary Oliver's "Devotions." Adichie’s “Americanah.”
I'm not not doing other things. I work. I work out. I make dinners. I watch cheesy movies and good movies and cheesy and good TV series. "Andor," "The Bear," "Etoile," "The Lightning Thief" (thanks for the rec, Liz), "Cobra Kai." I make dinners. Shuttle teens here and there. Look at my phone too much, like everybody.
Reading muscles out the time I used to spend on social media. I'm not on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, or TikTok. Maybe that's the tradeoff I've made. It feels worth it. Joy of Missing Out and all that. Books for the win!
Random Reading
One of the obvious but wonderful things about reading is that it can take you so many places.
This year I've traveled to the coast of France, the hubbub of Lagos, a creepy apartment building in Paris, pirate enclaves in Sri Lanka, tide pools along the Sea of Cortez, apple orchards in California, the Marianas Trench, and suburban New Jersey.
At least in the books I've read.
Byron Graves' YA novel "Rez Ball" took me to the Red Lake reservation in northern Minnesota. The story follows high school basketball player Tre Brun on his quest to lead his basketball team to the state championship, while navigating teenagerdom and healing from the loss of his older brother.
The book is insightful about native life (Graves is Ojibwe), grief, teens, and families. And hoops. (The story is unbearably exciting. I was frantic at times waiting to see who won the big game.)
For a deeper dive into the world of the story, check out an interview with Byron Graves on the Cynsations website.
Oh, one other thing. There's a Netflix movie out, which is also called "Rez Ball." It covers some of the same themes (high school basketball, grief, family, native life). But it's a different story, based on the nonfiction book "Canyon Dreams: A Basketball Season on the Navajo Nation."
Anyway, the movie is good, too.
Great reads
If you’re looking for reading inspiration, here are some destinations …
Can We Read?: Children's books for summer
I don’t like wishing my life away — any of it, even on the most miserably humid Wisconsin days — so I set myself a goal of learning to love summer.
Readable Moments: 5 Mystery Picture Books for Kids: The antidote to a bored/disinterested reader?
I think it’s very telling that some of the most popular children’s book series are mysteries (The Boxcar Children, Magic Treehouse, etc). So if you’ve got a hungry reader, feed them these books. Or if you’ve got a reader who’s meh about reading, read them some of these titles!
Moonbow: Maurice Sendak: The Artist Who Loved Words
The most brilliant last line in literature was written by a children’s author.
How I Learned About Great Literature from Comic Books
When in sweet silent thought I summon up remembrance of things past, I don’t mull over madeleine cookies or a sled called Rosebud. I don’t even lament the time Mom threw out all my baseball cards—probably worth a small fortune today.
But I do wax nostalgic for my old Classics Illustrated comic books—a now forgotten legacy of mid-20th century American optimism.
See you next time. Till then, happy reading!
— Jeff