This winter break, I went to my hometown with a goal in mind: to spend time reading. This wasn’t because I wanted to engage in self-care, or even to cultivate the seasonal cozy aesthetic of curling up under a blanket with a book, but because I had to read five books in December to reach my Goodreads reading goal.
I was able to read those last five books and reach my goal of 40 books in 2022, but this reading sprint made me question my motivations entirely. Out of the books I read this year, I can only list about ten of the titles from memory, and I can name the main characters of even fewer.
I’ve always been an avid reader. I was the stereotypical “reader kid” when I was young; my state-assigned “lexile score” placed my reading level multiple grades ahead and I read books at meals whenever it was allowed. I had friends who read the same books as I did in elementary school, but as we all grew up, it seemed that most people’s love for reading faded. By middle school, it was no longer cool to read for fun, so I continued my hobby more quietly— until the pandemic hit. With the rise of BookTok, reading became trendy again, and I was determined to seize the opportunity.
Since 2020, I’ve steadily increased my reading goal each year and logged my books on the literary social media site, Goodreads. Lately, however, trying to reach this goal feels exhausting to even think about.
While reading has always been a part of my identity, it never used to be competitive. I read a lot because I loved it, not because I thought it looked impressive. Now, being a reader on the internet is its own brand with influencers creating and following book-related trends. There’s no space to be a casual reader online, as social media has once again inspired people to maximize and monetize something that was once a hobby.
As I dragged myself through page after page of algorithm-recommended books this year, I never stopped to consider if I was dishonoring one of my favorite childhood hobbies and using it as a way to inflate my ego.
Was I reading these viral books because I genuinely enjoyed them, or so I could fill in another box toward my 40 book goal?
As much as I’d like to say that it’s the former and that I really did enjoy hate-reading Book Lovers and The Love Hypothesis, deep down I know the truth.
That’s why this year, I’m lowering my book goal. I want to aim for reading more books that I love instead of simply trying to read more. I want to slow down and return to my roots and read because it’s my favorite thing to do, not because it’s now a palatable internet niche. I want to be able to take comfort in old favorites without feeling like I’m wasting time I could be spending making progress on my reading goal. Most of all, I want to be able to put a book down if I hate it.
If I don’t reach my reading goal in 2023, that’s okay. I’m not going to diminish my love for my favorite activity by turning it into a competition that I can never win. Who knows? Maybe next year I won’t make a reading goal at all.