Three Reasons Why You Should Abandon A Novel You Don’t Enjoy Reading

Although I’ve already written about when and how to abandon books that you aren’t enjoying, I thought that I’d look at some of the reasons why you should do this.

After all, if you read regularly, then there can often be a feeling that you should just keep reading a book even if it’s something that you really don’t enjoy. Getting over this reflex can have all sorts of benefits, even if it takes a little while to learn how to do so without feeling like you’re doing something wrong (you aren’t! Unless the book is a set text, abandoning it is the right thing to do).

So, why should you abandon books that you aren’t enjoying?

1) It keeps you reading: If you’ve started reading a book that you don’t enjoy, then one of the first signs of this is that reading it feels more like a chore than anything else.

It feels like you’re back in school/college/university again and have to slog through one of the more dusty set texts (on penalty of getting a bad grade if you don’t). It feels like you’re wasting your time. It feels like you’ve just volunteered for something arduous. It feels like you’ve been swindled by cool cover art or an awesome blurb. I could go on…

And, when this happens, you’re probably going to procrastinate or let yourself get distracted. In other words, you’ll be doing things other than reading. Needless to say, if you want to keep reading regularly or to remember why you read regularly (hint: it’s supposed to be fun), then this sort of thing isn’t good.

So, if you want to keep reading, then don’t be afraid to abandon books that you don’t enjoy and read something that you do enjoy instead. Think of it as literary self-defence or something like that. Abandoning a book that you don’t enjoy protects your enjoyment of literature as a whole.

2) Time is more valuable than money: Even if you binge-read fairly quickly, books are still one of the most time-consuming entertainment mediums out there. Even the longest and most drawn-out of modern Hollywood movies (and don’t get me started on this topic…) are nothing compared to even a medium-length novel.

Books, of course, repay you for this by providing a type of storytelling that is deeper than the most well-written TV box sets and more immersive than the latest VR technology. When a book is good, all of this time feels like time well spent.

Time is more valuable than money. Even if you’ve splashed out on a brand new hardback novel that you later find that you don’t enjoy, then the 4-12 hours you’ll spend reading it is more valuable than the £10-30 you’ve spent on it. At the very least, you could spend that time reading a better book instead. Yes, you might feel like you’ve wasted money if you abandon a book that you’ve bought, but you’ll have saved time. And, time is more valuable than money.

So, if you really aren’t enjoying a book, then don’t feel bad about abandoning it and reading a better one instead. After all, everyone only has a limited amount of time and you might as well spend it well.

3) You can’t read every book (so, make each one matter): Following on from my last point, there are more books published within even the last decade than anyone can ever dream of reading – let alone all of the books published during the centuries-old history of the medium. It is impossible to read every book ever written.

So, if you can’t read every book, then you should focus on reading the best ones. On reading the books that you really enjoy reading. On reading the books that are so compelling, atmospheric, profound, imaginative etc.. that they take up residence in your imagination long after you’ve finished reading them. On reading the books that make you think “I’m really glad that I read this“.

So, you shouldn’t feel bad about dropping a book that you don’t enjoy. You can’t read everything. I mean, you probably won’t be able to read all of the really good books ever written (because there are too many of them), so why miss an opportunity to read another good one by reading a less good book instead?

This brings me back to the underlying theme of this article. Time spent pushing yourself to read a book that you don’t enjoy is time you could be spending reading a book that you really enjoy. So, don’t feel bad about abandoning books that you don’t like.

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Anyway, I hope that this was useful 🙂

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Today’s Art (1st June 2019)

Well, today’s digitally-edited painting is based on this photo I took of some trees in a forest near Bishop’s Waltham last June.

As usual, this painting is released under a Creative Commons BY-NC-ND licence.

“Bishop’s Waltham – Trees” By C. A. Brown

Obscurity And The Written Word – A Ramble

A few days before I wrote this article, I was reminded of one of the major differences between film/TV/videogames and novels. The novel that I’m (still) re-reading at the moment is a spin-off novel based on the “Final Destination” horror movie series. This was a novel that I first read in 2005/6 and, when I first found my old copy of it, I thought “I remember this! I’ll look online for other books in the series“.

It was quite an eye-opener. Whilst DVDs of the films from this series were reasonably cheap, most of the spin-off novels (all less than two decades old!) were surprisingly expensive out-of-print copies. Whilst I was pretty amazed that I unwittingly owned a book that had become a collector’s item, it also crystallised one of the major differences between prose fiction and other mediums.

Namely that it is much easier for books to be obscure than it is for stuff in other genres. After all, if you see an interesting film or play an interesting game, then there’s a good chance that quite a few people have heard of it. There will be Youtube videos about it, fan art about it and maybe even mainstream press coverage too. On the other hand, if you find a really interesting novel, then there’s a fairly good chance that most people haven’t even heard of it.

There are, of course, a lot of reasons for this. Books take more time and effort to enjoy than other mediums. Publishers’ advertising budgets are lower, so only a few big name authors tend to get promoted. The experience of reading a book is slightly different for every reader. It costs less to produce a book, so there are many more of them. Reading is an inherently solitary activity. I could go on for quite a while, but there are a lot of reasons why books will often be more obscure than things in other mediums.

And, yes, this can be somewhat off-putting at times. I mean, when I got back into reading regularly a few months ago, I soon felt the familiar feeling of disconnection that comes from enjoying a medium that really doesn’t have a mainstream fan culture in the way that games, films, TV shows etc.. do. Or, rather, one that has a very limited mainstream fan culture. Seriously, aside from classic literature and a few big name authors, books really don’t get the kind of press that games, films etc.. do.

And, yes, this can make being a reader, rather than a gamer or a film/TV buff, feel somewhat lonely. But, it isn’t all bad news. For starters, the obscurity of most novels means that there is a whole culture that is “hiding in plain sight” in the modern world. Whilst film franchises might be well-known about, there are loads of even better book franchises that no-one has heard of. And discovering one of these is like finding hidden treasure or joining a secret society or something like that.

Likewise, this obscurity also gives books a level of freedom that other mediums can only dream of. After all, the more mainstream something is, the more it has to appeal to a mainstream audience. Because most novels won’t become well-known, this gives authors a lot more creative freedom. This includes everything from the choice of main characters to the types of stories told to things like censorship-related issues (seriously, read a 1980s splatterpunk horror novel. It’ll make even the most gruesome modern horror movies look tame by comparison.)

Plus, because books don’t require things like special effects, teams of programmers etc… books can do things that films, TV shows and games can’t do. Or, to put it another way, even the cheesiest and most “low budget” novel can be considerably more impressive than even a mid-budget film, game or TV show.

This obscurity also means that books can be years ahead of other mediums too. For example, this horror novel from the mid-2000s actually seems like it’s from the mid-2000s, rather than the “1990s in disguise” that films from the time often inhabited. This sci-fi novel from 1992 reminded me a bit of a sci-fi movie from 1995-99 (like “The Matrix” or “Ghost In The Shell”). I could go on, but because books don’t have to fit into mainstream expectations, they can often be years ahead of more popular storytelling mediums.

The obscurity of books also means that, if a genre that you aren’t a fan of becomes popular, then there are still loads of other good books out there. I mean, whilst superhero films and online multiplayer games might be all the rage these days, lots of new books in all genres are still being published all the time.

So, yes, books being the most overlooked and obscure storytelling medium out there these days isn’t an entirely bad thing.

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Anyway, I hope that this was interesting 🙂

Storytelling In Books vs Storytelling On TV – A Ramble

One of the most surprising things I’ve noticed since I got back into reading regularly a few months ago was how differently I started thinking about the stories of the few TV shows I still occasionally find time to watch. More importantly, I also started to think about why TV and novels tell stories in such vastly different ways.

A few days before I wrote this article, I noticed that a gloriously silly TV show from the late 1990s/early 2000s called “Relic Hunter” was being repeated on TV. So, I set up the DVR and rationed myself to one episode per day. Yet, my reaction to seeing it again was totally different to when I first discovered a few episodes of this show on DVD in 2014.

Compared to the novels I’d been reading, the storylines in “Relic Hunter” seemed even sillier than before. Things often seemed to happen totally randomly, there were lots of fortunate coincidences etc… Yet, it was still really fun to watch.

This reminded me of something that I’d also noticed in the few episodes of a US detective show called “NCIS” I’ve seen over the past few months. Whilst a detective novel might devote hundreds of pages to the careful, logical investigation of a mystery – “NCIS” will often have the clues fall into place quickly, neatly and easily. Yet, it’s still really fun to watch.

But why is this kind of compressed, contrived storytelling so much fun to watch? I mean, books offer much deeper, richer and fuller stories. So, why are TV show stories still so incredibly fun to watch?

In short, TV show storylines are a bit like watching someone speedrun a videogame – you get to see an expert player going through a series of complex, dramatic, challenging events in an impressively quick time. It’s a demonstration of skill. This sort of thing is extremely compelling to watch.

TV show storylines are also a little bit like listening to a heavy metal song called “Bridges Will Burn” by Iron Fire. The lyrics of this fast-paced song tell an epic fantasy story in an impressively concise and fast way. For example, a a single verse might cover events that take tens or hundreds of pages to describe in a novel.

Yes, the novel would probably be deeper, more atmospheric and a much fuller experience. Yet, Iron Fire’s song feels a lot more impressive and spectacular because it expertly runs through all of this stuff in a ridiculously short time. It’s like these epic events are an ordinary, mundane routine to the narrator.

In other words, it expertly gives the impression of a story rather than telling a full, proper story. Television often does something similar to this, and it’s compelling because it not only makes the characters look like experts, but because the audience feels like they’ve absorbed a full story in a short amount of time (which makes them feel like expert audience members). So, storytelling in TV shows is more about evoking the feeling of expertise.

On the other hand, storytelling in novels actually requires expertise from both the reader and the writer. It also rewards this expertise too. This makes, say, grappling with a complex, long novel feel really satisfying. It also makes blazing your way through a fast-paced thriller novel at light speed feel satisfying too. Reading fiction requires you to reconstruct characters, locations etc.. using your imagination and to keep track of more complex stories, themes etc.. too. In other words, it is a skill and you get to show it off to yourself when you read a novel 🙂

In short, the difference between storytelling in novels and TV is that one makes the viewer feel like an expert, and the other makes the reader feel like an expert. It’s a subtle difference, but a really important one. It’s like the difference between watching a video of someone speedrunning a videogame and actually playing the videogame yourself.

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Anyway, I hope that this was useful 🙂

Three Reasons Why “Low Fantasy” Is Better Than “High Fantasy”

[Note: Since I prepare these articles quite far in advance, it can be surprising how much my opinions can change between writing and publication. Basically, at the time of preparing this article, I was still a relatively inexperienced reader of the urban fantasy genre (and was perhaps a little less aware that it has it’s own set of tropes and cliches too) .

Since then, my attitudes towards the fantasy genre have become a bit more nuanced (especially since finding books in the dark fantasy and magical realism genres). Still, I’ll keep this article (albeit with a couple of small edits) for the sake of posterity even though it doesn’t really reflect my current opinions and seems a bit naive and simplistic when I read it these days.]

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One of the interesting things about getting back into reading regularly a few months ago is that I’ve ended up reading a lot more fantasy fiction than I initially expected. Unlike some other genres (eg: sci-fi, horror, detective fiction etc..), my relationship with the fantasy genre is a lot more of an ambiguous one.

On the one hand, it’s been a genre that I’ve loved from an early age (eg: I used to watch “Buffy: The Vampire Slayer” enthusiastically, I read “Fighting Fantasy” gamebooks, I played computer games like “Heretic“, I read “Harry Potter”, I collected “Magic: The Gathering” cards and enjoyed the “Lord Of The Rings” films etc.. when I was younger).

It’s also a genre that I seem to drift away from and return to regularly (such as my “Game Of Thrones” phase a few years ago). Plus, a couple of my favourite types of music also have an association with the genre too (eg: symphonic metal, power metal etc..). Yet, I’m much more likely to derisively think of fantasy as “silly”, “over-complicated” etc… when compared to my other favourite genres.

However, a while before writing this article, I happened to read a Wikipedia article about “Low Fantasy” and it was something of a revelation to me. I suddenly realised that most of my criticisms and misgivings about the fantasy genre applied to high fantasy (swords & sorcery, Middle-Earth etc.. type fantasy) rather than low fantasy (eg: fantastical stories set in, or involving, the “real” world).

So, here are three of the reasons why low fantasy is better than high fantasy:

1) Variation and imagination: One of the really cool things about low fantasy is that it sometimes includes a lot more variation and imagination than high fantasy does.

For example, urban fantasy can include elements from other genres alongside more traditional fantasy elements – such as vampire thrillers like Jocyelnn Drake’s “Nightwalker“, horror story arcs in Neil Gaiman’s “Sandman” comics and sci-fi elements in both novels like Lilith Saintcrow’s “Dante Valentine” series and computer games like “The Longest Journey” and “Shadowrun: Dragonfall“.

In addition to this, low fantasy will sometimes use the tropes of the fantasy genre in a much more creative and imaginative way than high fantasy traditionally does. Since these stories can’t rely on the traditions of the high fantasy genre, they have to come up with new and imaginative ways to meld the fantastical and the mundane. They can’t just rely on the old tropes of swords, castles, knights, heroic quests etc.. for their stories.

As such, not only does low fantasy have a lot more variation between stories – but it also means that the fantasy elements have to be imaginatively different too. In other words, you’re much more likely to see intriguingly different variations of the fantasy genre in low fantasy than you are in high fantasy. After all, if a low fantasy writer has to come up with a plausible way to meld the fantastical and the mundane, then they’re going to have to use their imagination…

2) Shorter stories: Yes, some low fantasy novels are giant tomes (Clive Barker’s “Weaveworld” and Neil Gaiman’s “American Gods” spring to mind), but this is thankfully a lot less common when compared to high fantasy.

With the possible exception of Tolkien’s “The Hobbit” (which I haven’t read), I don’t think that I’ve even heard of a high fantasy novel that can’t also be used as an emergency doorstop and/or paperweight. [Edit: Surprisingly, short fantasy novels/novellas actually exist 🙂 Expect a review of Tanith Lee’s “Kill The Dead” in late August.]

Since low fantasy stories incorporate well-known real life settings and elements, and since they’re often melded with other genres like the thriller, horror, detective, romance etc.. genres, there’s more reason to tell gripping, shorter stories. Since they don’t have to spend lots of time building a giant, medieval-style world, they can get on with actually telling the story.

Since a good portion of low fantasy novels aren’t that much longer than the average novel (300-400 pages these days) and don’t require any extra time investment, they are a lot more accessible and easier to impulse-read when compared to giant tomes of high fantasy. Likewise, even when low fantasy novels tell longer stories, they will often be broken up into a series of shorter books rather than a series of gigantic tones. I mean, I’ve even found a low fantasy novella. A novella! In the fantasy genre 🙂

3) Themes, symbolism, meaning etc..: One of the cool things about stories that meld the fantastical and the realistic is that the fantastical elements usually have to be there for a reason. In other words, low fantasy isn’t just “fantasy for the sake of fantasy” in the way that high fantasy can often be.

As such, low fantasy stories will often be a lot deeper, more intelligent and emotionally powerful than high fantasy can be. For example, good urban fantasy vampire stories will often explore themes like belonging, subcultures, civil rights, secrecy, mortality, traditions etc.. in a way that could rival even the most literary of novels.

More fantastical low fantasy stories (eg: Neil Gaiman’s “Sandman” comics etc..) will often use the fantastical as a lens to look at elements of humanity, in a way which often gives these stories one hell of an emotional punch when compared to the typical high fantasy stories of knights going on epic quests etc…

So, yes, since low fantasy has to find a good reason to include fantastical elements, these stories usually mean something in the way that the fantasy elements of a typical high fantasy story often don’t.

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Anyway, I hope that this was useful 🙂

The Joy Of….”Middle Brow” Fiction

Well, for today, I thought that I’d talk about one of my favourite types of fiction – “middle brow” fiction. This is the type of fiction that includes all of the thrills, creativity and cool stuff you’ll find in “low brow” fiction, but with the level of characterisation, linguistic skill, thematic complexity, descriptive depth etc.. that you’ll find in more “high brow” fiction.

It is quite literally the best of both worlds and it is utterly awesome. Yet, it is annoyingly difficult to define. Ok, I could probably list examples of it that I’ve read (like “Box Nine” by Jack O’Connell, “Snow Crash” by Neal Stephenson or, the novel I’m reading at the moment, “Weaveworld” by Clive Barker), but it’s really difficult to spot it at a glance.

I mean, it’s easy enough to see whether a novel is a fun “low brow” thriller/horror/detective/sci-fi novel or a prestigious, intellectual and realistic “literary” novel just by looking at the cover. One has excitingly dramatic cover art and the other usually has trendily boring cover art that is filled with adoring critic quotes. But, things that fall in between these categories are usually a little bit more difficult to spot at a glance.

But, I guess that this is part of the charm of “middle brow” fiction – that brilliant sense of surprise when you sit down to read what you think will be an ordinary thriller, horror, sci-fi or detective novel only to find that it’s a lot more atmospheric, deep, intelligent, unique or vivid than you had expected 🙂 Or, when you think “I should read something intellectual“, only to find that the book you’ve pushed yourself to read is a lot more gripping than you’d expected 🙂

Yet, this type of fiction is really difficult to define. Is it genre fiction with extra depth and complexity? Is it literary fiction with an actual plot, some imagination and a proper narrative drive? Is it both of these things?

Surprisingly, it’s actually easier to think of non-book metaphors for it. It’s kind of like the equivalent of a more prestigious popular TV show like “Game Of Thrones”, “Twin Peaks” or “Boardwalk Empire” – which contains enough depth and complexity to be more than mindless Hollywood entertainment, whilst also still being entertaining enough to make you want to binge-watch entire seasons of it.

Another interesting thing about “middle brow” fiction is that it also reminds us of what popular fiction used to be like. Yes, there’s a lot to be said for more fast-paced, informal and “matter of fact” modern narration – it keeps the story wonderfully gripping and it also means that modern books can compete with smartphones, the internet, videogames etc.. for people’s attentions. But, at the same time, it can also lack a certain depth and atmosphere that even the most “low brow” of older novels often used to have.

To give you an example, take a look at “Erebus” by Shaun Hutson (1984). This is a fast-paced, ultra-gruesome horror novel about zombie vampires that I first discovered when I was a young teenager during the early-mid 2000s. It just seemed like a really cool, fun and rebellious novel back then. But, when I re-read it as an adult, I was surprised by how complex the writing sometimes was when compared to some of the more contemporary novels I’d read in the meantime.

Here’s a quote from “Erebus” to show you what I mean: “Elsewhere in the office things were at various stages of organized pandemonium as other reporters rushed to complete their assignments, hampered by the fact that their typewriting dexterity had not yet extended to more than one finger“.

This was “low brow” popular entertainment in 1984! A mere 35 years ago, a novel containing complex sentences like this was seen as a mindless “everyday” way to pass the time (like videogames, Facebook or Youtube would be these days). Just think about that for a second.

Another cool thing about reading “middle brow” fiction is that it’s kind of like a reward for having to read more dull “high brow” fiction in the past (eg: the set texts at school/college/university). Thanks to your prior experience, not only can you read it with relative ease – which feels like playing a videogame you’re really good at- but you also actually have fun at the same time. It’ll make you see the wisdom of having to slog through the works of writers like Shakespeare, Bronte, Dickens, Austen, Fowles, Woolf etc.. when you were younger.

Of course, as a side note, one amusing irony is that Shakespeare and Dickens were, at the time they were originally writing, “low brow” popular entertainment. I mean, just do some research into 16th century theatre audiences (eg: wild, rowdy, chaotic etc..) or into how many of Dickens’ novels were originally published (eg: popular serials in newspapers/magazines).

Anyway, “middle brow” fiction shows you that reading all of those boring books means that you can breeze through much more interesting books with a sense of ease and skill that may very well catch you by surprise and make you feel like some kind of expert or intellectual.

In short, “middle brow” fiction is totally and utterly amazing. Yes, it was probably more popular in the past than it is now (I mean, all of the examples I listed earlier in the article come from the 1980s/90s) but – in a landscape where popular modern novels often seem to be sharply divided between grim detective thrillers/ Fifty Shades Of Twilight and pretentious plot-less “literary” novels, there has never been more of a need for intelligent, well-written novels with a good gripping plot 🙂

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Anyway, I hope that this was useful 🙂

Four Thoughts About When (And How) To Abandon A Book You’re Reading

A few days before I wrote the first draft of this article, I happened to read an absolutely fascinating online article about “book block”. This is where you start reading a book, but can’t bring yourself to finish it for some reason. And, yes, it can be debilitating in literary terms.

I mean, one of the reasons why I read so little after early-mid 2014 (and only returned to reading regularly a few months ago) was because of guilt over leaving a couple of books unfinished. In those years, I probably read less than ten novels. Since I got back into reading regularly again, I’ve read about fifty or so. So, yes, guilt about not being able to finish a book can really disrupt your reading.

But, my thoughts on the topic have evolved slightly and – since I got back into reading regularly- I’ve abandoned at least three books without the heavy sense of guilt or obligation that can sometimes put you off of reading again for years.

So, here are some thoughts about when and how to abandon a book:

1) You can always come back to it later: If it helps, remember that you can always come back to an abandoned book later. In fact, the reason why you just can’t seem to go any further with a book may well be because you just aren’t ready for it yet. And this isn’t a question of skill or intelligence, it’s a question of things like mood, imagination, circumstances and interests more than anything else.

For example, one of the books I abandoned in 2014 was a 1990s-style sci-fi/fantasy thriller called “Heart Of Desire” by Kate Robinson. I felt really terrible about leaving this book unfinished, especially since I know the author. Yet, in the years afterwards, I became fascinated by the 1990s and I spent quite a while watching films, watching TV shows, playing computer games etc.. from that decade in order to understand it better.

So, when I eventually returned to “Heart Of Desire” 4-5 years later, the book suddenly made a lot more sense to me. I could spot (and enjoy) all of the 1990s-style elements, and appreciate the book on a whole new level. In other words, I was ready for this book and I enjoyed it (and finished it) because of this.

So, don’t feel bad about abandoning a book – it might just be because you need to return to it at some point in the future when you are ready.

2) The test: One of the best ways to avoid guilt about abandoning a book is to test it out first. The less of a book you read, the less guilty you’ll feel about abandoning it. So, test the waters before plunging deep into a book.

The exact number of pages varies from person to person. Some people will say that if you aren’t gripped by the first page, then you should ditch the book. Others suggest giving a book 50-100 pages before deciding whether to continue. Personally, I think that you shouldn’t set hard limits – just go into a book cautiously and, if you start to feel that heavy, gloomy sense of “oh god, do I have to read all of this?” drop it and read something else instead.

Still, the first few pages are the most critical. They will tell you the most. For example, a week or two before I wrote this article, I didn’t start reading a really interesting-looking thriller novella because of the rather harsh vigilante-like tone of the first couple of pages. Yes, it was written in a gripping way but it seemed like the kind of earnestly grim thriller that I probably wouldn’t enjoy.

So, I guess that the real lesson here is to know yourself. Understand what makes a book “work” for you and what doesn’t, and pay attention to how you feel when you start reading a book.

3) It can be a good thing: One book I abandoned in late 2010/early 2011 was Clive Barker’s “Abarat: Absolute Midnight”. I didn’t feel guilty about this. Was it because it was a terrible book? No! It was the literal opposite of a terrible book.

In short, I binge-read the first half of the novel in a single evening and was so amazed by it that I just didn’t want the story to end. So, I left it. I meant to get round to reading the rest of it but, at the same time, I just didn’t want the story to end. So, I still haven’t read the rest of it.

So, yes, abandoning a book doesn’t always have to be a bad thing. Sometimes a book can be so good that you just don’t want the story to end.

4) Focus on enjoyment, not prestige: Ask yourself whether you’re reading something because you enjoy it or because you just want the prestige of having read it.

Yes, prestige can be a good motivator (in addition to setting myself a deadline, it’s probably one of the reasons why I finished reading Hilary Mantel’s “Wolf Hall) and some books do require perseverance before they really get good (eg: Mantel’s “Wolf Hall”, Neal Stephenson’s “The Diamond Age” etc..). But, you should only keep pushing yourself to read a “difficult” book if you genuinely feel that it will be worth your time.

And, yes, this may lead to you leaving some classics unfinished. For example, when I was about sixteen or seventeen, I really wanted to read J. R. R. Tolkien’s “Lord Of The Rings” but, after about 100-200 pages into the first book I realised that it was just too slow-paced when compared to the exciting film adaptations I’d seen. When I was about fourteen or fifteen, I tried to read Irvine Welsh’s “Trainspotting” (since I’d seen the film on TV) but gave up after about 100 pages due to grappling with the narrative style. I could go on…

The point I’m trying to make here is that you should ask yourself whether you’re stuck with a book because you want the prestige of having finished it or because it’s good enough that you want to keep reading, even if you find it “difficult”. If it’s because of prestige, then abandon the book. The thing to remember here is that even the most “well-read” person in the world probably hasn’t read everything. There are too many books, even prestigious books, out there for someone to read literally all of them. So, don’t feel bad about it.

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Anyway, I hope that this was useful 🙂