Why I stopped reading fiction books, and why I actually shouldn’t do it
I feel like I’ve been struggling with reading fiction books lately. Over the past year or so my preferences in literature have gradually shifted to self-development, biography, business and other genres.
And it seemed to be that whenever I tried reading fiction, I was imminently failing for some reason. In some cases, I thought the book was really not interesting. In other occasions, I was coming to a conclusion that it’s just not the right time, and I was not in the right mood for that.
Now I assume it was not only that.
Recently I visited one of the book stores here in Lviv, and ended up buying a beatiful edition of The Colour of Magic by Terry Pratchett, in Ukrainian. I really loved the design of the series so I got super excited to read it and enjoy the process just through holding the book in my hands.
Unfortunately, the design didn’t help much. When I started reading it I couldn’t really enjoy it or have a good time. It was hard for me to follow the plot as I was struggling to dive deep into the context. I couldn’t keep my focus long enough blaiming the genre of fantasy for its “fantasiness”. In short, nothing was making sense to me. At one point I even almost gave up trying to keep up. Just as it happened lots of times before.
But today I nevertheless gave it one more try and put extra effort to concentrate for longer periods of time. Luckily, it finally paid off. I found the flow, I got indeed carried away into the fictional world. It felt good, you know. It felt so good I started thinking that maybe because we are sometimes lacking this small extra effort into focusing and concentrating, we end up not being able to enjoy fiction books. What if fiction literature may just be a bit more demanding in this sense? Unlike non-fiction, you can’t skim the fiction text, looking through it quickly and easily. On the contrary, you must stay there for longer time, reading and digesting, taking deep dives into a made-up world of an author.