My manager went on a three week vacation to Bali, with one important goal in mind: she would finally read that book that she’s been putting off for the past six months. It’s a book that her work bestie had written, a semi-autobiography about her story of coming out. My manager promised her work bestie she would read her book - everything was in place: book, packed, vacation, booked (pun intended), amazing beachy locations and comfy sunbeds galore. Three weeks, one book: seems doable. When my manager arrived back, all tan and thrilled (read: devastated) to be back at her desk, I asked her one thing: so did you read the book?
“Hah! No. Of course not!”
What proceeded was the standard discussion on reading between a reader and a non-reader: her, assuring me that she has tried reading and it just doesn’t work for her. Me, assuring her that it’s fine. Her, yet coming up with more excuses on why she doesn’t read: it’s just too boring, my mind wanders, I’m too active, I can’t sit still for long stretches of time etc etc…
So you’re not a reader, I said! So what?
This discussion made me think of several things, all of which I told her. First of all, it is my firm belief that, if you’re not a reader, it’s just because you haven’t found the right genre yet for you. As a non-reader diving into an autobiography is surely not a good place to start - but that might just be the anti-non-fiction-reader in me talking. But I assured her, the genre for you is out there! Something punchy, exciting, with lots of twists, something that keeps you on your toes so much you totally forget you’re sitting down because you feel yourself part of the story, taken on a journey.
Alternatively though, I do believe that not all of us are meant to read, and coming to terms with the realization that you’re not a reader might free you from a whole lot of societal pressure. Reading is fun, but reading is also pressure: If you’re reading, read the good stuff, not the trashy romances with cartoon covers and explicit sex scenes. If you’re reading, read more, read a lot! Count your books! If you’re reading, read physical books, not on your phone or a kindle because that’s not the real thing. What I’m saying is: reading, as a hobby and as a community can be extremely pressure-filled, gatekeep-y, and yes, snobbish, which is not an environment a new reader wants to become part of. Why bother, when any one book you pick up could be the “wrong” one?
I firmly remember my grandfather scolding me for reading fantasy, saying well, he doesn’t read these made-up stories, he reads about history and people’s lives that actually happened. Same goes for romance, but that’s not news for anyone: for years I covered up my true favorite genre under “fantasy” and “historical fiction” because I just couldn’t bring myself to admit that what once awakened in me reading Twilight (yes, Twilight), never really stopped craving that same high and depth that comes from just simply reading about people falling in love.
Back at the office others joined in on our discussion. One of my co-workers advised my manager to read short stories: something to help with the self professed attention issue. I just told her not to worry: maybe she’s just not a reader, and if not, then so what? I myself prefer letters on a page to sitting down and watching a 3 hour movie and being bombarded with sensory input (I’m looking at you Christopher Nolan). But to utter a sentence I don’t like movies is like saying you don’t like chocolate or ice cream. Complete conversation killer and everyone is going to look at you like yeah, sure.
At the end of the day, how we consume and interact with stories is a deeply personal experience. Some of us watch, some read, some listen, some even write them, and there is no right, and sure as hell no wrong way to do it. So if you’re embarking on a three-week vacation already gearing up to finally read that one book, let me give you permission, and a little grace: make your luggage lighter and leave it at home. Go enjoy some well-earned Netflix, an audiobook, or nothing at all. Because if you’re not a reader, three weeks in Bali won’t make you into one, and that’s not what that time is for anyway.
Hi! Thanks for reading! I’m Zsófi, 24, from Budapest, Hungary. I currently live in Amsterdam where I work my big girl job, blog about books, and dream of one day writing my own. If you liked my first post, make sure to stick around to see what’s coming! Let’s chat about books, cats, or anything at all :)