I’m supposed to be doing my assigned reading post for the month, but alas, I did not finish Childhood’s End by Arthur C. Clarke so instead here are my current excuses for not finishing books.
1. I’m still reading it
Mr NW often looks at the stack on my bedside table with a disapproving glare and asks “Are you still reading that?”. The answer of course is yes. Even if it’s been a week since I last opened it, or a month or longer. Plus I know the only reason he is asking is because he’s getting worried about the hole in the bookshelf where it belongs. So I let him put it back – but I’m still reading it!
2. A better book comes up
I knew I was supposed to be reading Childhood’s End. It was sitting nicely on my bedside table. But then I was lent a copy of The Wonder by Emma Donoghue. I thought I’d just read a couple of pages to see what it was about. Then just a chapter because it seemed rather interesting. Anyway, next thing it’s 1 am and I’ve finished the whole thing. Whoops. Sorry Mr Clarke. I’d highly recommend it by the way.
3. Some books just aren’t that memorable
There is one book (I won’t name names) that I started reading on three separate occasions. I got more than a 1/4 of the way in before I had the vague feeling that I had read the book before. But I never seemed to be able to finish it, and each time I started from scratch because I had no recollection of the plot or characters. Honestly, ground-hog day or some weird kind of limbo.
4. Reading in bed/starting too late at night
I swear the fastest way to fall asleep at night is to pick up a book and start reading. 10 pages in and my eyes are drooping and everything is going blurry.
5. I’m just not that in to the book
The whole point of the assigned reading challenge was for me to get outside my comfort zone. So all in all my current 50% DNF rate isn’t entirely unexpected. I’m not sure I’m ever going to truly love sci-fi in the same way as Mr NW, and that Arthur C. Clarke book was incredibly dry. I mean, aliens arrive but they are just hanging out in the sky, it’s all good. Maybe something happens after page 50, I don’t know, I’d given up by that point. It would be boring if we all enjoyed the same things right? I knew a girl when I was growing up who didn’t like chocolate. Liquorice or the white jelly bean would probably fit better with this analogy because sci-fi isn’t exactly universally adored, but you get my point. Sometimes even though lots of other people love it, it just doesn’t float your boat. There was nothing wrong with the book per se, but I just didn’t find myself wanting to read any more. Who knows, maybe I’ll pick it up another time and it will be completely different.