It's not as if 75 is a *lot* of books to read. I mean, really. AND I even included picture books and didn't reach my goal. Granted, I didn't include every picture book I read this year (that'd be an astronomical amount of books... between my own kids and storytime... whew!), but still. Some that I really enjoyed or got a great reaction from I did. So... what happened?
Truth be told, I can't say for certain. I'm definitely a mood reader. This much I know about myself. And much of this past year has been spent with trying to figure some things out on a personal level, and that seems to have left less energy for reading. On another note, it was a pretty lofty goal, I think, given that I knew I was struggling with other things that required more of my focus.
That being said, I haven't yet decided if I'm even going to set a numeric reading goal. Gillian of Writer of Wrongs said it great when she said she'd end up way too married to that number. Reading is supposed to be a fun thing, not something that you feel pressured to do. And I do think that might've happened to some extent for me. Not nearly on the same level as Gillian or those other rockin' bloggers out there who are more hardcore at this than I am, but still. It is a challenge you set for yourself so it's most likely in the forefront of your mind every time you pick up a book. There's that "Oh, I'm reading this and I get to add it to my challenge and help my numbers," and then there's the "Well, purple platypus! I didn't meet my goal!" when you fail. Seriously? Why take the fun out?
Still debating, but I figured I'd just spew some word vomit out there for y'all to consider. Mostly because it's in my head and I needed it out. You're welcome.
Xoxox,
B
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Thank you so much for taking your time to share your thoughts! I try to respond to everyone. :)