Well, now that 2022 is coming to end, I must confess a
failure. I failed to adhere to my New Years Resolution of 357 days ago.
A year ago I promised myself I would not read any more
epic books, be they novels or works of nonfiction. I’d only read books of 180
pages or less (about 150,000 words maximum).
Instead, here’s what I read, in chronological order:
World
War II at Sea – 650 pages
War
and Peace – 1,392 pages
With
the Old Breed – 344 pages
The
Matarese Circle – 611 pages
Ivanhoe
–
497 pages
Four
Days in November – 512 pages
The
Pillars of the Earth – 980 pages
Abraham
Lincoln: The War Years – 443
Martin
Chuzzlewit – 837 pages
That’s nine books for a total of 6,266 pages. That’s
an average of nearly 700 pages a book!
Had I kept my resolution, those 6,266 pages would have
encompassed nearly 35 books.
Yes, I scratched off some items of my bucket list.
Yes, I learned a lot about a wide variety of fields. Yes, I sampled some literary
genres in which I rarely partake.
But a lot of them dragged, to be honest.
Now, I want to write my third manuscript in 2023. I
did read four SF paperbacks this past year, all in summer, but since my novel
will be SF-based, I feel like I wanna put away two or three dozen SF paperbacks
immediately to get back into the swing of the sci fi thing. And, as we all
know, the perfect science fiction paperback clocks in at exactly 180 pages.
I had been noodling with dipping the toes in Plato
January 1st. And that might happen sometime in 2023. But I’m kinda burned out on
the Epic. The Republic is 400 tightly
packed pages, two columns per page in my Great Books edition. I want to read a
story that will grip me on a Sunday and come to a satisfying conclusion that
Saturday.
So on January 1st I’m going to crack open the SF
paperback that’s been longest in the On Deck circle and enjoy some mind-bending
adventures in the future.
And stay Epic-free, at least until the Spring.
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