On a whim, I created an account on Goodreads today.
(I’m not sure why it thinks I live in Delaware, but I haven’t corrected it yet.)
Goodreads seems like my kind of thing, as far as tracking what books I’ve read. I’ve been tracking my sparse reading habits elsewhere for the past couple of years; perhaps I’ll enter what data I have, just for grins.
I certainly have enough books that I haven’t read here at home, and in my Audible library — but if my To Be Read pile ever magically dwindles, Goodreads also looks like it’s ripe with recommendations.
Maybe just the act of recording what books I’m reading will spur me to read more. What gets measured gets done, as someone once said. Plus, I don’t want to embarrass myself by ONLY reading six books this year (even though I set that as my goal). I’m supposed to be this huge lover of reading… but I didn’t finish a single book in the second half of 2016.
My son told me the other day that “reading is boring.” Be still, my heart! My own son? Maybe if he sees his Mom reading more often instead of playing on her phone, he might get the idea that reading for leisure is a thing people do.
Plus, you know, a trip to the library every now and then never hurt anyone… even those of us with more books than can fit in our shelves.
