Reading Revolution II

I used to be a terrible reader. Reading was painful. Reading was boring. Reading got in the way of interesting stuff, like math, and physics, and soccer. Reading was forced upon me. What happens when things are forced on us? We do the minimum amount possible and try to get away with it.

I'd often hear stories about these supremely intelligent people reading one book a week; I even remember an anecdote about someone reading more than two hundred books a year! It was mind-boggling. It was mind-blowing. It was as if I was hearing stories about strange creatures from another nebula, naturally endowed with powers greater than Earthly humans.

How could it be possible that these people read orders of magnitude more books that I did? They must have had something I didn't have. Absurd? Actually, rephrased, it's actually not so absurd. It's just that they had things that I had in other subjects, only applied this time to reading: positive associations, persistence, and a sense of learning.

Reading is usually seen as an arduous process. Understandable, considering the many hours we spend to read just a single decently sized book. But what makes all the difference is what emotions and responses we associate reading with. Do we associate it with the pain of homework, the frustration of our slow progress, or the embarrassment of not being able to answer questions in class? Or do we associate reading with the smiles of our mothers, the comfort of our homes, and an appreciation of our efforts? The differences we have in our upbringing, particularly within the family setting, will be enough to set the ball rolling. The difference isn't so noticeable in first grade, but fast forward ten years and we have a marked gap between the haves and have nots. Hopefully the have nots have made positive associations with other aspects of academic life.

Persistence? Oh how little of this I had during my younger years, with respect to reading. I remember routinely setting a book down after reading a mere ten pages in the story. Somewhere in the journey of the reader, there is a time when we have to break through the wall of early departures; somehow, we develop the will and desire to just keep at it for hours up on hours. Perhaps our encounters with mesmerizing and thoroughly fascinating books spawn this ability within us. Perhaps it is like cardiovascular strength, emboldened only by pushing the boundaries of our cognitive limits over and over. I'm not sure what it is that gives us the ability to stick to it through hundreds of pages. I seem to have developed it relatively recently, yet I don't know what it is that has contributed to it.

I suspect that one of the largest contributors to my new found literary stamina is the sense of learning I now have from reading. It is a direct result of voluntary reading, as opposed to assigned reading. In the universe of all possible interests, my twenty-odd years of existence has endowed me with a subset of said universe. Stepping outside of my little planetary system of curiosities is unlikely to spur the same level of interest and enthusiasm that I get by staying within my own little world of literary desires. Over the last few years, this little cosmos of mine has grown steadily. What that in turn means that when I was younger, I probably had a tiny little spec of an area where a book could have sparked curiosity in me. Tragically, that didn't seem to match up with what was being assigned in Honors English Literature class or whatever the niche of choice may have been at the time. Tragic, for it seems that we can grow our solar systems into our own galaxies if we approach it the right way. My thought is that by staying close to our hearts and not straying too far, we can slowly grow our habitat. Instead of trying to jump across the river, try to pivot slowly into the adjacent areas. Spread the mind slowly, like an amoeba; moving too far, too fast, will break your mind (... just like pulling really hard at an amoeba...).

I've read roughly 800 pages in various books over the last five days. With some luck (and some effort), I will read over 1000 pages in a week for the first time in my life. It's an arbitrary accomplishment, but one that is significant nonetheless.

I was a desperate Spark Notes user in high school. I can no longer see myself as a patron ever again.