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What I’ve Learnt From Trying to Read 52 Books This Year
Read More Quality and Less Quantity
Often, in the spur of the ‘new year, new me’ moment we set audacious goals. Goals that you know are impossible but you set them anyway because they allow you to dare to dream. You write them down even though in the back of your mind you know you won’t be able to achieve them. You’re just about to scribble them out when that tiny voice pops up out of nowhere.
“Yeah, but imagine you did achieve it.”
You get overcome with excitement of the high that maybe, just maybe, you will achieve it and become a success. All of a sudden you’ve found yourself setting a goal that you have no hope of achieving and are guaranteed to feel shit about when you don’t.
For me, this year, that goal was this:
“Read 52 books this year, 1 book a week.”
Now, I know what you’re thinking, people have dared to dream bigger (albeit slightly). And they have, I know this isn’t a great, daring dream. The problem though is that it was paired with several other competing goals. Those other goals included writing 200 articles in a year, cycling 200 times (I was yet to own a bike or ride one for several years) and renovating my decrepit house.
