I’ve been keeping a book journal for two and a half years now. Funny I never thought to do it before, but I’m glad I finally got around to it because it’s given me some tremendous insights into what I read, how I do it, and, most relevant to this particular venture, where I am while reading it, both physically and spiritually.
I love connections. When I was a full-time communications professional, finding hidden (or at least not obvious) connections between people and leaders, motivations and results, seemingly disparate events and history, actions and consequences was a passion of mine. I’d like to think it’s one of the things that made me successful in some of these roles. Nonetheless, it was a tremendous way to learn and grow, and that’s exactly what keeping a book journal has done as well. It’s allowed me to see connections that have, in turn, helped enrich my enjoyment of the books I’ve read.
A couple of things prompted me to finally start recording a bit about each book I read. First, I got the best notebook (pictured here) for Christmas 2016 from my daughter, who had spent the fall semester studying abroad in the UK. The journal was designed by Cath Kidston, a very London brand I had never heard of before and that just charmed me. Not only was it beautiful, it was that much cooler for being (a) from the U.K. and my daughter, and (b) covered in illustrations of books, so I had to use it for something epic. And what’s more epic than books? Second, I wanted to write more, and I found that I don’t have the discipline required to write a regular journal by hand – I think my mind moves faster than my hand can write, so any traditional “journaling” is best done with a keyboard. Little snippets (like notes on the books I’d read) were way better suited to my analog writing efforts, so this seemed the perfect outlet.
And finally, I found I was losing track of my bookish life. I have an embarrassingly large Kindle library, full of hundreds of books, many bought on a whim or because they were on sale, and a shocking proportion of which I have yet to read. I love having an e-reader for its ease of use and compactness (especially while traveling), but it’s not always easy to find these unread books when they’ve been buried by more and more purchases. To make matters worse, I have always been a bit of a crazy person when it comes to owning “tree” books, as well. I have absolutely no sales resistance when it comes to bookstores, and if you throw any kind of sale or deal into the mix, I become a woman obsessed. The groaning shelves of my library bear witness to this affliction. And my eyes are always bigger than my reading stomach when I go to the library where, for some reason, I find it impossible to leave without at least four books. All of this adds up to a beautiful problem (sorry not sorry) but also mass confusion in knowing what I own, let alone what I’ve actually read.
So Christmas was probably the perfect time to receive my gorgeous blank notebook and to make this decision about how to use it. I was looking at a stack of recently acquired bookwealth that I knew I’d spend the post-Christmas-hangover days tearing through. But it was also good timing because, for many years now, I’ve set myself a book goal each year that begins (as the year does, duh) in January. Good Reads has been a fantastic resource for this because it allows you to set yourself a “Reading Challenge” that reminds you of your progress without having to keep track and count yourself. (Hello, English major over here. Numbers are important, but I prefer someone else does the work of actually adding.) I’m proud to say I’ve met (exceeded) my goal of 100 books (but who’s bragging) every year since I started the journal project, and I’m on track to exceed it this year. (Previously, I hovered around the 60- to 75-book-a-year range, although I was pretty lazy about recording them. Because numbers.) I’m even prouder that I’ve kept up the journal entries to this very day (book). It has definitely become a habit, and it’s been fun and enlightening to look back at all the books that have moved permanently off my TBR list.
What have I learned from reviewing and “reading into” this journal? Well, my writing clarity improved as I wrote more entries, and it took me less time to compile my thoughts. I also discovered that, although I didn’t plan this, I didn’t write reviews or synopses of the books so much as I jotted down how they made me feel. Turns out, connections are still pretty important to me. I recorded context in nearly every single entry: Who gave me the book or told me about it. How or why I selected it to read then, at that particular time. How riveted (or not) I was with the story. What I learned. And oddly enough, I almost always noted where I was physically when I read the book, and I definitely made a big deal about it if the author’s world-building prowess made me feel like I was totally somewhere else.
Each entry evokes more than just time and place. Collectively, they form a road map of where I’ve been, highlighting the paths that took me to amazing places, ones I want to return to, as well as those that were dead ends or slow, dense slogs. I’m reminded of a loved one’s care in selecting, recommending, and presenting me with the gift of reading. I’m brought back to the armchair, bed, car, kitchen table, airplane, coffee shop, garden, backyard, or hammock where I communed with my surroundings or completely shut them out. Keeping a book journal has made me be more mindful of connecting all the dots when reading, and when writing about reading. I have learned I love to think about, talk about, and relive books almost as much as I enjoy consuming them.
My book journal of very recent history began in 2017 because it had a pretty place to live and was necessary to keep my reading life straight and focused. It continues (in a less-gorgeous notebook) because it has been an outstanding way to stick to all my goals — and to force myself to write something down on a regular basis. But more than that, when you read a ton of books a year, it’s lovely to revisit where your reading took you. Though I still lack discipline at controlling my book purchases (and at writing regular blog posts? Ugh.), I have managed to create another habit that brings me joy, and to make reading an even bigger part of my life.