Why did I finish this lousy book and set aside this good one?

In which I shame myself into finishing a more difficult read

Reading, lithograph, James McNeill Whistler from the collection at the National Gallery

I have no books to wave excitedly under your nose this week. Instead, I have a question: why do we finish some books we don’t particularly like and abandon others?

(I do have one book I am LOVING, but you’ll just have to wait until I’m finished —after all, didn’t I remind us all just last week that you should never recommend a book until you’re done?)

I know—some of you can’t start a book and NOT finish. IMO you should probably work on that, what with there being so many books and so little time, but I’m not going to tell you how to live your life (plenty of that going around). But for those of us—like me!—who have no qualms about rolling a book right off the bedside table and into the nearest Little Free Library, my question is this: why do we finish some books we don’t particularly love and not others?

Last week, I went right ahead and finished something that was honestly irritating me (it was a romcom, not even out yet, not gonna diss it although we may discuss later because I do wonder if it will appeal more to Gen Z), instead of reaching for a popular, award-winning book that just wasn’t demanding that I keep turning the pages.

In the case of the rom-com, although the usual question of how will these two ever get together nominally existed, I didn’t much care, and in fact strongly suspected that maybe the protagonist should probably go back to therapy instead.

So why did I finish it instead of going back to The Berry Pickers, which is better written (beautifully, even), about families and relationships and finding ourselves (which I love) rather than about finding a partner (which I also love but only if it’s fun and also has the other stuff)?

Because it was easy, I guess. Because The Berry Pickers is more demanding, and in the absence of a suspense-filled reason to turn the pages I need to be there for the way the story was told, and that’s a harder ask. Because I wanted to see if it would get better, while with the other book I know what I’m going to get, and even though it was good, maybe I just wasn’t in the mood for it in that moment.

Because right now, it’s not enough for a book just to be good. It has to hit some sort of wild sweet spot of better than scrolling but not much harder.

Oof.

I’ve already written this year about the need to actively decide to read a book instead of the usually easier and shorter stuff available in your phone. (Reading a book on your phone totally different!)

But apparently I also need to think about WHAT I’m reading. A rom-com I don’t even want to talk about, or a book that’s worthy of thought and discussion?

I’m not going to be too hard on myself. It’s been a tough start to the year, filled with uncertainty on many fronts, and if I need to take a break from a more challenging read, go me. But the least I could do it read something I’m enjoying! It’s like I’m trying to make things worse or something. Cannot explain, must change.

Tell me you’ve done something like this to yourself—why did YOU finish something you didn’t even like? Talk to me, friends. I’m clearly flailing.