I’ve decided to do something a little different in
2015. I want to read every book I read
cover-to-cover, twice.
2014 was a whirlwind year for me. I read for relaxation and escape, but last
year I read so voraciously I found I was rarely experiencing either. Sixty books – one every six days – I sped
through. Not all was fluff (Socrates Meets Kant by Peter Kreeft, A Stillness at Appomattox by Bruce
Catton, Everything and More by David
Foster Wallace). Some were thick tomes (11/22/63 by Stephen King, an anthology of Lovecraft’s
works). Many were classics (All Quiet on the Western Front, Billy Budd, Watership Down, The Iliad). Trouble is, if I didn’t compulsively record
everything I read, I would’ve forgotten half of everything I’ve read.
And that’s not something I’m comfortable with.
I want everything I read to become a part of me. I want to absorb the good, worthy things I
invest time with, even the “fluff” I use to escape the stresses and tensions of
modern 21st-century life.
Hence, everything I read I will read twice.
This is to side-step the urge I get, half-way through a
book, to start a new one. Plus,
everything that passes my eyes and traverses the optic nerve to my brain will
make the trip twice, reinforcing everything I learn and vicariously experience.
That’s something I want.
This time last year I had already read three books and a
half-dozen short stories. Since New
Year’s Day of this year, I’m halfway through my second book. (Though the first one I’ve read twice). So it’s a bit slower, and definitely more
focused, than my reading was a year ago.
A change of pace. I
like that.
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