Writing Dailey

On Tuesday, March 18, after indulging in a belated St. Patrick’s Day meal of corned beef and potatoes, I was accused of something I never thought I’d be accused of: Not being a reader.

Caught up in the feisty Celtic attitude of my paternal ancestors, I primed my shillelagh to smash skulls—after all, my honor as a bookworm, book-hoarding dragon, and book club attendee had all been brought into question—but I took a breath instead. Yes, one of my dearest friends had lit the fire beneath my seat, but her question-turned-accusation had been in truest jest.

What did she say, you ask? After a Guinness on my part and an IPA on hers (we won’t hold that against her), our conversation turned to experiences of our youth, and when I admitted I had not read an arguably popular YA novel, she leveled me with this: “You haven’t read Holes?! I thought you were a reader!” And that’s where our friendship concluded.

Just kidding. It would take a far more serious indictment of my character for me to cut ties with this earth angel, but this experience reminded me of all the books I haven’t read, the books I will never get around to reading (when I’m RIP, my stack will still be TBR), and all the books I should’ve read, but didn’t, and won’t. Because, as Bobby Brown would say, “That’s my prerogative.”

There are so many books I haven’t read, and as an aging millennial approaching her thirty-fifth anniversary, I’m coming to terms with the reality that I just won’t be able to read every book out there that catches my eye. Sad but true. However, I revel in the fact that I will never want for reading material. My shelves are full, my favorite bookstore always delivers, and if there’s something I genuinely want to read and can’t find, I can take up the pen myself and put my Creative Writing degree to use. 

But what this silly interaction stirred up in me was the idea of having to read certain books because other people say you should. For me, this idea falls into two categories worth discussing: book recommendations and required reading.

As a perhaps wrongfully self-proclaimed reader—please come to your own conclusions on that—I receive many book recommendations. People gift me books, lend me books, and tell me I must add BLANK and BLANK to my TBR list. Granted, I also gift, lend, and suggest TBR additions, but I am hesitant to ever say someone “must” or “should” read X, Y, or Z.

I’m cut from the cloth of believing art, story, and character will speak to people or they won’t because that’s been my personal experience. If someone is meant to read a specific book, they will, whether I say they should or not. It’s always the reader’s choice to pick up a book, try a book, or finish a book, and in recent years, I’ve gone from finishing every book I start to giving myself permission to stop reading if a story doesn’t resonate with or “speak” to me. Boy, has that been a freeing experience.

We don’t have as much freedom or wiggle room with required readings. Perhaps you’re in a class or workshop or working on personal growth, and a therapist strongly suggested you read a particular book. In these instances, it typically behooves us to do the required reading.

In my book clubs, the books are either pre-selected or we pick them as a group, but even then, there’s still the choice to read the book and show up to discuss. For example, I did not finish Empire of Shadows by Jacquelyn Benson for February’s Breakfast Book Club, and I harbor no guilt over that. The novel, from its characters, pacing, and plot, did not speak to me. An older example from Lit with Literature would be The Waters by Bonnie Jo Campbell. That piece of writing did not resonate, but I finished it out of spite and in community with several other regular attendees. Both books were technically required reading if I wanted to participate in discussion, but there was wiggle room because I’m an adult and can do what I want—most of the time.

The kind of required reading that pigeon-holed us into consuming content that we really didn’t want to came into play in high school and college. Now, please don’t get up in arms over this. You can hold different beliefs, and you can even stop reading this blog right now—it’s not required for you to continue.

All I’m saying is I’m not a fan of the traditionally required reading lists for high school students, and I can say without shame that I’ve hardly read any of the prescribed titles, which is predominately a flaw of the English Department of my rural high school. The fact that I participated in a correspondence school my junior year and skipped out on the first half of English my senior year may have also been factors in my not reading the books I should have.

Conducting a cursory or in-depth search of high school required reading lists delivers varied results. No two are the same because every state and county does things a little differently. So, I’ve cobbled together a grouping of books I didn’t read or read post-high school and my thoughts on them.

Catcher in the Rye by J.D. Salinger: Post-college, I attempted to read this three times—thrice—and never again shall I pick it up. 100% did not resonate.

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee: I haven’t read this book, but I have watched Gregory Peck portray Atticus Finch several times.

Lord of the Flies by William Golding: The closest I’ve gotten to reading this is watching Yellowjackets and seeing an adapted parody on the novel on The Simpsons.

The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne: I never read it, but would consider doing so because then I could watch the film with Gary Oldman and compare page to screen.

Animal Farm & 1984 by George Orwell: I haven’t tried either, but I would strongly consider both.

Adventures of Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain: Read pieces and parts, and I will read James by Percival Everett, a retelling from Jim’s perspective, for Lit with Literature later this year.

Romeo & Juliet by William Shakespeare: I did a dramatic read-aloud as a high school freshman and re-read it in college. It’s arguably Shakespeare’s worst play. The Tempest and As You Like It are far better.

The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald: I read it on a friend’s recommendation post-college and didn’t find any of the characters likable. You can fight me, but I think this story is vastly overrated.

Having not read most of the aforementioned books has not left me at a deficit. During my formative years preceding college, I read books like The Lord of the Rings trilogy, Dracula, Frankenstein, Jurassic Park, The Godfather, The Count of Monte Cristo, and Sense & Sensibility, arguably, novels that could belong, or should belong, to a student’s required reading list, but that’s not for me to decide. All I have to decide is what I want to read during the time that is given to me—shout out to Gandalf and the man who created him for that stellar bit of wisdom.

I’m not pooh-poohing required readings, and I’m not saying that students shouldn’t read books considered to be classics or be introduced to books they might never have considered. What I am saying is that we’re all readers regardless of what we’re reading—the classics, contemporary musings, manga, romantasy, etc.—and having not read the books we should’ve doesn’t make us any less of a reader, even if you haven’t read Holes.

In this day and age, time is as fleeting as ever, so rather than cave to external pressures and a Good Reads list of must-reads-before-you-die, seek what speaks to you. If a book doesn’t resonate with you, I’ve saved a spot on my shelf beside The Waters—go ahead and shelve your book there and add it to our collective not-to-be-read list, affectionately pared down to the NTBR stack because we’re readers no matter what we choose to read or not to read.

Coming up next:

April — The things I carry as a writer