Since becoming a commuter, I have discovered something about my reading habits that I didn’t know beforehand. Previously, I read a lot of young adult fiction (and even books for younger readers). I thought I did this because I enjoyed this type of book the best, but I have discovered that I was wrong in my thinking.
Now that I have a two hour time slot set aside for reading each afternoon (five days a week), I no longer find myself gravitating towards books for younger people. I’m picking up, and enjoying, books for adults. I realise that I read the other books for two reasons: 1) I do enjoy them, and 2) it was more likely I’d finish the thinner book for young people than the thick book for adults because I didn’t have time to do a lot of reading.
Time was the issue, not my preference of book.
I also believed that I had an issue with concentration, but the last month or so has proven that totally wrong. When choosing a book to read, I find myself looking at my bookshelf with new interest. There is plenty of time to read now and I want to make the most of that time. I want to read all the books I’ve collected over the years. Those books teased me into buying them for whatever reason and now I have the time to consume and enjoy them. It’s brilliant! Whereas if I had tried to read those thick books when I first bought them I would have rushed them and found fault with all of them because of the time restraints. I am a slow reader and I would have been frustrated.
600 pages would have taken me three or four months to read. No wonder I didn’t enjoy them. Now they take me just over a week. That’s a huge difference. I’m enjoying new stories all the time, new characters, settings, plots, genres. At the risk of repeating myself, it’s brilliant!