During college to some extent and during graduate school to a depressing extent, I stopped leisure reading. .

For many, this is probably fine. I don’t necessarily think reading particular types of things for fun necessarily makes people better or smarter in any particular way. But, for me, reading is one of the few things that lets me focus on one thing at a time, and it’s a huge driver of curiosity and creativity. Now, years later, wrapping up my annual log of “books read for fun” on GoodReads, I have some thoughts both on what happened and how I fixed it.

Variety is the something something

While I didn’t read for fun much during school, I went to a shocking number of movies, often 2-3 times a week, and I would rent movies in between. I still watch at least a couple movies a week usually, and going to the movie theatre is one of my absolute favorite ways to spend time.

But, I spend *a lot* of time with screens for research now — reading journal articles, watching and analyzing videos and games, and other tasks. So, the movies outside the theatre feel less like a break and more like an extended workday. But, during school, I read. On paper. All. The. Time. So reading didn’t feel like a break. It felt like more work. Now, that line is muddier because the nature of my work has changed. I’m not sick of reading at the end of the day, usually, even if I might really, really want a break from text coming off an editing deadline.

A diet can be too high in fiber

Years ago, my friend John Cline quipped that watching most documentaries feels a bit like eating fiber. They’re intellectually credible and serious and all that, but too many times they’re just no fun.

His throwaway comment made me realize something: Through the process of my education, I’d absorbed some of the cultural biases of most English lit programs, and so I’d been reading (or trying to read) mostly literary fiction. It felt like eating fiber. I was reading because it was good for me and not because I needed to or enjoyed doing so. So, based on that, I changed my reading habits.

We deserve wonder

For a couple years, I barely read anything that wasn’t young adult fiction. I enjoyed them, they were fast reads, and most importantly, they reminded me what it felt like to just tear through a book because reading felt good, and I wanted to understand how the world worked. From there, I started reading more and more genre fiction for both youth and adults.

Now, I still read mostly science fiction and fantasy for fun, but I’ll also read some nonfiction here and there, business advice books that seem interesting, and even, occasionally, literary fiction or nonfiction. But, I’m reading because I want to and not because I’m struggling to be the right kind of serious adult or thinker or … something.

Once I got interviewed by a recruiter for a producer position working in VR. I knew the interview was over when he asked what I wanted from the medium, because I told the truth. I want wonder and joy and transcendent experiences. This is what I want from reading, too. It isn’t the only thing. But, so often when I read or watch or view or listen, I get that thrill of imagining the world as it isn’t but could be or of being reminded again that, as a human being, I have moral obligations and commitments that I need to honor.

Do I always get this from reading? No. Do I read a lot of things people might dismiss as garbage? Yes. Do I sometimes get this from things people might dismiss as garbage? Yes. Do I think these things are garbage? No.

What the point is

I relearned how to read by letting myself read the way I had as a child and young adult, guided mostly by what I happened to pick up off the shelves. Sometimes, then and now, I make mistakes–I often mention that reading Kafka’s The Metamorphosis at 9 or 10 was a huge mistake. But, more, I get to experience reading as exploration and provocation and play. Frankly, if I can’t do that, I probably shouldn’t be reading for fun.

I started trying to read again by setting goals and logging and tracking. For the first couple years, this was a challenge in the true sense, and I’d find myself scrambling to find short books I could tear through before the clock struck midnight at the end of December. Now, it’s not really a challenge so much as a habit, but I still log fiftyish books a year, chosen mostly by whimsy. But, the tracking and habit isn’t what remade me into a reader. Instead, it was those things I want from VR: Joy and wonder and transcendent experiences.

And, ultimately, more than tracking, more than goals, more than a sense of obligation, that has what returned me to reading.