Today at book club, we were tossing around ideas for our next selection. And I realized I haven't finished either of the first two books we picked out--Bird by Bird and A Farewell to Arms. I read at least half of each of them, and I enjoyed it all. So what's my problem? Why can't I ever finish a book? Even when I know it's a good one?
I think I have a problem. I have a problem with committing to books I fear may disappoint me. Don't get me wrong, I love the exhilaration of coming to the last whispery pages of a story that's completely swept me off my feet (for better of worse), and I especially love it when it's really long (seems way better than a triathlon) or really, um, literary (makes me feel like my professors are looking down on me like proud grandparents up in the clouds). But more often than not, I just don't get through them.
What follows is the list, not exhaustive, mind you, of books I've recently started...but not yet finished.
A Farewell to Arms
Bird by Bird
Darkness is My Only Companion (this hardly counts--it's about mental illness, and I needed to take a break from the dismal reality it acknowledges)
N.T. Wright's Matthew for Everyone, Paul for Everyone
Sex for Christians
And frankly, I can't even look at my bookshelf anymore without feeling a little embarrassed about the books I neglected to properly digest (ahem, read).
Ergo, my *favorite* and therefore most realistic New Year's resolution is to complete this short list of books by the time I'm married in June. That way, Dustin and I can really start our reading competition (which will last for the whole of our marriage, I assure you) on the same even playing field.
Wish me luck.