I still love books. That hasn’t gone anywhere. What has crept in, quietly, is tiredness. Not the kind that comes from life being busy. The kind that shows up when reading starts to feel like a task you owe someone, but that someone is imaginary.
This year, whilst my reading goals are only slightly higher than last year, I’m more focused on undoing a few bad reading habits that have been draining some of the joy from reading.
Finishing books I don’t enjoy
I’m very good at this. Too good. I’ll be fifty pages in, mildly irritated, already bored, and I’ll keep going anyway. Because “I’ve started, so I’ll finish”. Because I “should”. Because maybe it will turn around if I just push through. Sometimes it does. More often, it doesn’t. What it usually does is leave me resentful. Of the book. Of my reading time. Of myself for not walking away sooner. So this year I’m practising stopping earlier. Not dramatically. Not with a Goodreads tantrum. Just a quiet close, a note to self, and permission to move on.
Life is too short for books that make me sigh every time I pick them up.
Buying more books when I already have plenty
I am not short on books. I am short on restraint.
There is a particular flavour of optimism that hits when you buy a new book. Future-me will love this. Future-me will have the time. Future-me will read this immediately and feel changed by it. Current-me just adds it to the pile. But occasionally those books skip the queue that so many other have been politely waiting in. I’m not trying to stop buying books entirely. That would be pointless and dishonest. I am trying to notice when I’m buying for the dopamine hit rather than the reading.
If the excitement is over before I even get home, that’s a clue. This is what my Twenty Six in 2026 goal focuses on.
Buying an entire series before reading book one
This one hurts because I know better.
I convince myself it’s practical. What if I love it and can’t get the next one straight away. What if it goes out of print! What if the covers change (this is the real reason; I need the matching set!) So I buy three. Or five. Or the whole set. Then they sit there, unread, quietly judging me. I’m slowing this down. One book first. Let it earn the shelf space. Let me actually yearn for the next one, rather than feeling pressured to justify the purchase.
A series should feel like an invitation, not a commitment contract.
Reading out of obligation
This is the sneakiest one. ARCs. Book club picks. Books I said I’d read because a friend recommended them. Books I feel I should read because they’re popular, or clever, or everywhere.
Some of these turn out great. Others feel like homework. I don’t want reading to be performative. I don’t want to measure my reading by how impressive it looks from the outside. I’m learning to say ‘no’ more often. Quietly. Without announcements. Without explanations.
Loving books doesn’t mean you owe every book your time.
Choosing enjoyment over completion and leaving bad reading habits behind
This is the real shift.
Mood reading. Picking the book that fits how I actually feel, not how I think I ought to feel. Letting myself read lighter things when my brain is tired. Letting darker things wait until I’m ready. I’m not chasing completion anymore. I’m chasing that feeling where you forget to check your phone. Where the world drops away for a bit. Where reading does what it’s meant to do.
Some years are for tallying numbers. This one is for remembering why I started reading in the first place.
If you’re tired but still in love with books, you’re not broken. You might just need to let go of a few reading rules you never agreed to.
