Maximizing Time for Reading

Why reading—and reading widely—is more important than ever, and how to go about creating habits and practices to allow yourself the space and time

There’s been a lot of online debate lately about literature as a product of elitism. Reading and writing requires time to be able to partake in, obviously, and yet most of the people who bring this up as a talking point appear to be doing so in bad faith as a means of denigrating desire for knowledge. It is to the advantage of the people in power that those below them do not raise themselves up, and they’ve taken to making it questionable by calling out the bureaucratic structures surrounding academia as if that were a symptom of literature itself and not a side effect of capitalism. It’s gotten to the point that “having time” to read, write, and study is being shamed, as if it can only be done within the bounds of paid guidance and luxury, when in fact the opposite has always been true. Reading and writing require time yes, but if we’re only able to think of the time in a day as already belonging to someone else, we’re essentially screwed.

Now more than ever, given the way our society is built to run at broadband speed, all good things (and even mere bad habits) require management of resources and time-space in order to perform. Everyone’s life is different, with different limitations and drawbacks, but in the same way that we make time to eat, exercise, and relax, it is vital for the aspiring individual to be at the very least mindful of where their time is going and for what reason.

I want to preface all of this by saying that the examples and ideas expressed throughout are the product of my having known from very early on that I didn’t want to get a 9-to-5 or have kids; that I didn’t mind living cheaply and without the responsibility of knowing someday I’d need to provide for a family. Things are quite different for me now in my 40s rather than my early 20s, but I still consider it one of the most vital elements of my work as a writer to have developed habits that maximize the time I spend on doing on the work that means the most to me—writing and reading—while still being able to make a living and have a personal life with others. Manifesting the proper brainspace to be able to think clearly enough to read and write is probably even more important than having ideas or skill; in fact, the latter would seem to emerge out of the former.

Because the truth about the elitist question, in my eyes, comes down to this: You only get out what you put in. No one is born able to read Pynchon, and even taking a 4001 class on him isn’t going to insert a chip in your head that makes you able where others aren’t. Instead, writing and reading are both practices; they expand and deepen as you acquaint yourself both with the history of what has come before you and what you are capable of in the present; that is, by doing the work. Most of the arguments made against ‘difficult literature’ or ‘academic speak’ tend to come down to something like a fear of the unknown, of feeling left out by something you haven’t taken any time to understand, assuming or insisting it’s not for you—when in truth everyone—including your professors—tend to be making things up as they go along. There is no secret formula, no code behind language, that excludes lesser minds while secret handshaking those who choose to buy in. Not interested? That’s fine, but in combatting the forces that would tell you that education is better left to the rich to adjudicate, we need to get past the idea that education is anything but a series of stepping stones, and the work of making anything of value, especially when there are hundreds of thousands getting after it, tends to reward those who put in the most work, and who feed their natural talent by studying art, the world, the spirit, and themselves.

Now that I’ve thinly vamped about the moral issue that produced the question leading to this post, I want to get into the more realistic and productive-facing question of how an aspiring writer and reader can maximize their time to do their work. Again, obviously everyone’s work and lifestyle situations are different, including health and physical limitations, so I hope these thoughts won’t come off as anything but an attempt to rethink the structures that surround us toward maximizing one’s ability to do what they want. Having the luxury to be able to finagle one’s own schedule isn’t possible for everyone to the same degree, and at the same time it customarily requires sacrifice in order to develop the sort of practice that will lead one to excel. I’ll stop qualifying my own position now and get on to the more practical stuff.

The easiest way to do this, at least for this post, will consist of a list of practices or POVs that may or may not fit any particular view. In general, these tips are sort of aimed at people who are already interested in reading, and often with a writing angle in mind behind them, but in the same way we look to idealize our consumption and exertion practices, reading outside of the web and its influence should be considered as vital as ever. I’d argue that even those who think they don’t need or don’t have time for it might consider the implications of a world where written discourse has been tamed down to only allowing through the biggest and loudest signals. Twitter has proven that discourse can be shaped and controlled in the digital, and even as censorship seems to be on the verge of a surge, the freedom of reading and writing outside the system is a vital part of freedom, not only for one’s self, but for the world. When I feel insane for not knowing how to address what I see as evil in power, I try to remind myself that the world is shaped by the ability to speak back to it, to see it from afar, and literature is a space where ideas that would otherwise be crushed by the rush of time provide resistance, inspiration, and empowerment.

HOW TO MAXIMIZE TIME AND EFFECT FOR READING

• Small amounts of time add up quickly. Even reading a single page, when accumulated in the downtime of a day, can turn into a whole chapter, and a whole book faster than you think. Before smartphones, I made it a habit to carry around a book with me, or in my car, that I could pop open when I had a few minutes to spare, like waiting for an oil change, or at a red light (to be honest I used to read while driving in traffic, tho I don’t recommend this). These days most people fill their empty space with social media, and I am no different, so the struggle to get back to reading instead of sucking up sludge is a bit different now, but still the same at base. Throw a book in your car that you only read when you find yourself waiting around. Put another book beside your toilet or your bathtub that you read when doing that. I’ve found I can pick a book that has shorter chapters or spaces for places where I’m likely to have short bursts of time is more conducive than picking one thick book to read consecutively no matter where I am.

• To this end, reading poetry is really ideal. Especially when the idea filling of those small windows with needing to immerse one’s self in language, a poem can be really satisfying to swallow in one bite, and then have echoing in your head while you do other stuff. There isn’t a single writer of prose (or poetry!) who wouldn’t be massively benefitted by washing their mind in poetry, which tends to lead to more unique sentences as you convert that energy in your own writing. Don’t think you like poetry? Think of it as weight-lifting; you might not like it now, but it will do your mind and spirit good whether you think you ‘understand’ it or not.

• In general, aiming to ‘understand’ or even have concrete takeaways for what you read is getting the cart before the horse. Again, no one wakes up reading Pynchon and converting it to gold; that’s not the point. The point, if there is one, as with looking at a painting, is that you are exposing your mind to being nourished without needing to define it another way. Too often we try to read with purpose, as if everything we do must have a takeaway; instead, letting the words wash over you, taking what you take from them, and carrying forward tends for me to be a much more effective way of being ‘in’ the book, letting the soul of the book into my consciousness. You don’t need to be able to do a book report when you’re done; instead, the book is now a place you’ve been. Getting used to not having a proper place for everything, for letting the experience itself happen, is a good way to discard some of that ‘this is for snotty people’ mentality before you’ve even had a chance to be in the water. You’ll be surprised over time how things that you didn’t feel you knew what to do with might stick with you, feeding your imagination, and overall making you a more well-rounded thinker.

• Reading is good for your mind, body, and soul. It slows down time, gives your mind and body space to breathe. It activates the mind against dementia and allows you space to think differently than you would have otherwise. Despite the climate, books aren’t meant by dint as explicitly political objects designed to force you to think like them, but rather to fill the soul with inspiration, even if delivered in complex ways. In the same way that running is good for your body, reading things that challenge your natural thought patterns and take your outside the demands on the real world is vital to having a healthy brain and a wider worldview. Unlike more simple forms of entertainment like TV, they are actively interacting with you, giving you space to take part in the input you allow in. The more you do it, too, the more fun and rewarding it turns out to be in selecting what you choose to put into your body, much like food. Different books have different purposes and as with any skill that you choose to develop, you’ll find your range of mind grow and strengthen in its own way as you get to know the you inside you. On top of all that, part of the history of literature, in addition to its creative effects, is that other people have lived through things you are living through right now, and learning from their experience without having to suffer it firsthand is maybe the biggest life hack of them all if you’re the sort of who needs to think of things as life hacks to take them seriously.

• Reading is fun. I don’t know who needs to hear this, as you might’ve had your conception of what reading can be ruined for you by grade school, but there’s simply no comparison to the amount of pleasure derived from reading a great book. If we could look past thinking of words on a page as boring by default and instead recognizing language as technology itself, we might remember the great all-immersive AI experience we’ve been asked to crave was right in front of our eyes the whole time. Yes, it takes practice, yes it takes nuance, yes it takes making space for it, but unfortunately that is the format of reality. It feels good when we can make reality come to us sometimes instead of always the other way around even if it require sacrifice of other pleasures, or even modifying lifestyle to make room.

• Devote time to read. I know this sounds talking down, or not possible for those whose hours are filled with children and work, but personally I have to make a point to combat my own weariness and busyness by making a point to set blocks of time to read, even if it’s just for 30 minutes at a time. In my late 20s, I used to read several hundred books a year by coupling my reading time with exercise, bringing a book with me to the gym to read while on an exercise bike (or treadmill). Now, on a Saturday afternoon, I might read for 30 minutes before going out, or have a book with me while watching a football game and read with the TV on mute during commercials. Reading for 30 minutes just before bed is great way to bring in calmness and get off the social media mind. Again, finding these little pockets in your schedule goes a long way over time, and feels a lot better than leaning into the inertia of consuming.

• Be more selective about what you read. This might sound counter-intuitive, in that I just said that you should be free about letting the reading wash over you, but I’ve found my reading interest tends to lag if I feel I’m reading just to do so, or to ‘catch up’ with whatever everyone else is currently talking about. Obviously you can pick books that fit your interests, but if you’re looking to read to be a better writer, setting goals to read books that will improve your range of knowledge, even if they aren’t as fun as Harry Potter or whoever, is vital. You might not love every second of The Magic Mountain or The Unconsoled, but you will have absorbed something from key components in the structure of history, and might be surprised how it serves you in your own work. I don’t want to compare it to eating your vegetables, but some things truly are acquired tastes, and you won’t know what you like about them until down the line. Either way, tending toward books that have stood up over time instead of the fun, newfangled flavor of the week tends to be more sustaining—like, holy shit I finally read Ulysses!—and allows space for deeper understanding of the new as well in that you have context for its emergence. As a general rule of thumb, you pretty much can’t go wrong reading literally anything published by Dalkey Archive, New Directions, Archipelago, Fitzcarraldo, NYRB, and Semiotext(e), to name a few. The mystery of literature is that we never can name what it is, and those places are amazing resources for titles that push the boundary in a sustaining and inspiring way. (I also wrote an earlier post about expanding your taste by putting together a stack of books you want to read and putting them in a mystery bag to spice up the game.)

• You don’t have to sign up for university to read their syllabuses. When I was trying to find things that I could read that would improve me, I often tended to scrape titles from classes posted online, or to read interviews with authors I did like and read what they mentioned. One beautiful thing about literature is that it’s a blossoming tree, and each new branch you crack can lead to all sorts of nooks and crannies. Less so than reading to please yourself, consider reading to become familiar with the landscape of the written word; if nothing else, it shows you what has already been done so that you don’t end up repeating others in lukewarm ways, and provides a basis for thinking newly about what you might do in the light of what’s already been done.

• In counter to the previous, it’s also important to not only read work by dead people. Though it might be less reliable, taking a chance on a new author that you see at a store or in review somewhere feels more exciting, in that it hasn’t already been mined and given immense significance. To me, almost all of the most important work being done right now is through independent and micro presses, where unique work that doesn’t already fit the standards of the market is given room to thrive. Look beyond what you’re being fed and see what’s going on around you that might not be showing up in chat or on the headlines. Be curious, and let things that don’t suit you immediately take some space to develop before making up your mind. Again, time spent reading something that isn’t exactly for you isn’t time wasted; it’s time honing your taste and view, and can lead to unexpected places when what seemed out of sorts at first ends up becoming compelling.

• Hey American, don’t only read Americans! We complain a lot about there being too many books, but in translation, it often takes a great deal of passion to bring major works into English, and the hit rate on reading outside of one’s own culture goes way way up. Similarly to reading canonical texts, whether experimental or traditional, it feels good to be immersed in something you never would have if you allow your curiosity to explore other branches of world literature—you might even find there’s a greater degree of wildness and freedom in other countries, leading you to be ahead of the curve when it comes to the range of what is possible.

• When you find something you like, keep going. Some of my favorite experiences of reading has been landing on an author that really hit me, and devouring the catalog all in a row, or in big chunks. If you like one book by Thomas Bernhard, make a point to read another, if not all of them in time. Seeing how an author changes over their career and tries different things at different times is a really valuable way to imagine the life of the mind; that could be you. I think we too easily try to pin artists to what they do well in their biggest successes, when in truth there’s much more to be gleaned from taking a larger view, understanding the mind behind them. Books are simply products begging for your dollar; they are the product of a particular soul who had to force its way into the world. Part of what makes the identity of a writer of literature great, to me, is less about thinking about what a single book represents to the world, and more about imagining what they had to do to make it, how they survived and accomplished, what emerges from the whole. Being less transactional about the experience of the work itself helps to imagine that we aren’t all just doing this to do it, but because there’s something larger behind it all that cannot be defined but through the whole.

• Keep track of your progress. I’ve been keeping a list of every book I read since 2001, and I feel great every time I add a title to the current year, whether I loved it or not. In more dedicated times, I made a point to write brief notes about what I did or didn’t like in a separate document as a kind of reading log, to help jog the memory when, as you read more and more, it perhaps becomes harder to retain individual threads, especially the ones that stand out less. I also have a shelf in my office right beside my desk where I shelve the books I read throughout the year in order that I read them, so that I have them nearby and accessible if I want to refer back to something, or read over sections that linger with me. This is only for non-library or ebooks, but it’s nice to have a visual archive that reminds me of the things I’ve been putting into my brain. At the end of the year, it’s fun to distribute them into the long-term shelves where I’ve classified them by association, opening a new clear shelf to fill again.

• Review books, or write about books you read. In the same mind as keeping an archive of your path, and as a counter to the ‘letting it all wash over you as you go’ mode, taking the time to think effectively about a particular text or series of texts, whether you loved it or not, can be extremely instructive for your own approaches. We live in a time when everything is about output, and the more we can do to slow down that tractor plow and start seeing where the rubber meets the road, the more real the effect of literature can be on the world itself. It’s also a good way to get paid for your reading; reviewing and blogging about books has become a keystone (if only one of many) of my ability to be able to sustain myself as an author. In developing expertise over time, you end up giving yourself a license to practice that has nothing to do with having a degree, and everything to do with life.

I think I’ve said enough about reading for now. Soon, I’ll follow up this post with a second one about developing and maintaining similarly good and realistic habits for making time for writing.

In the meantime, feel free to comment with your own habits and ideas.