I used to be able to read just about anything. . .lately, I’ve gotten way pickier. Reading for the sake of reading used to be enough. Whether classic fiction or a business book or general fiction, I wanted to be a sponge and absorb it all. . . content. . .writing styles.
In the past few months, I’ve lost patience with books that don’t instantly draw me in. Do I really owe it to an author to muddle through 50 or 100 pages before I’m committed to the storyline? I never read the Harry Potter series because I just didn’t get instantly swept away. (Friends told me I had to make it about 100-150 pages into the first book to be sold. . . and I just couldn’t be bothered.)
Then I realized. . .I’m getting older. The very sage “they” say people’s music tastes are pretty solidly cemented by one’s early 20s. I’m now likely to be a lifetime Bon Jovi and Goo Goo Dolls fan unless they really screw up, and the odds are against me for ever liking hip hop — didn’t like it 5 years ago, don’t like it today, with 99% certainty won’t like it 5 years from now.
Likewise there’s a settling point for ideology. We eventually reach a turning point where we aren’t actively seeking out new ideas; instead we seek out information and media that confirms our belief systems.
Perhaps thats why I can’t read “everything” anymore. . . I can’t be bothered with loose storytelling or stuffy writing styles. After 20+ years of reading I know what I like. . .and can pretty quickly tell the wheat from the chaff as far as my tastes are concerned. So I’m no longer going to think that my love of reading is dwindling; rather I’m going to appreciate that I know what I like. I’m still going to seek out new an different ideas, but I’m not going to feel guilty if they just don’t stick.
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