Finishing a Book

One of the things I struggle with when reading a book is finishing it. When I begin a book, it’s fun, exciting, and new. But if the book is not captivating or if it’s not resonating with me, I’ll start to lose interest (quickly) and won’t even finish it.

Even if I return to the same book after, say, a week, it’s difficult to dive back into that world. The only way I could finish a book that’s not gripping is to read it fast–racing to the finish line.

There is a window of time where such a book can hold my interest, and if I don’t finish it within that time frame, I won’t finish it all. It’s similar to the concept of marginal utility in economics: each time you purchase and consume a product, your satisfaction with it decreases overtime. I find this to be true when reading a book that doesn’t hold my interest.

At first, the book is exciting to read (maybe it’s because of the book’s ideas or it’s because the author is well known), so I’ll read a lot on the first day. On the second day, however, I’ll read 1/2 of what I read on the first day. On the third day, I’ll read 1/2 of what I read on the second day, etc. This will continue until I won’t even pick up the book and read it anymore.

If I’m reading a book that engages me from the start, it will the opposite effect. For example, on the first day, I might read 20 pages, on the second day, 30, on the third day 40, etc. And then there are times when I couldn’t stop reading until I finished the book.

When I examine the reasons for why I finish or don’t finish a book, the first thing I notice is that it has to be a subject matter or genre that I’m interested in. The subject matter/genre is of key importance, since it determines if a reader will even want to pick up the book in the first place. It’s the same with movies, since each person has their genre preference and they wouldn’t want to watch a movie that is in a genre they’re not interested in it. If audiences raving about it and it’s recommended by their friends, that person might give it chance, but that’s the exception, not the rule.

Secondly, the writing has to be clear and engaging (even humorous). If it’s witty and clever or paints the world with ease, then the writing will pull us into the story almost effortlessly. On the contrary, if the descriptions are overly long or the vocabulary/wording is confusing and unclear, I’ll disengage quickly.

Thirdly, the story should move at an even pace and it should have good character development. On the contrary, if the characters just move from one situation to the next without anything eventful happening, the story won’t feel worthwhile to read.

To determine if I might finish a book, all I need to do is read the first few pages of it. Within those pages, I can determine by the writing style if the story is gripping/captivating or not. Does it invoke mystery or wonder, or does it meander and go nowhere?

After I finish a book that I enjoy, I’ll seek out other books by that author. Why you might ask? Because I want to experience the enjoyment of reading that author’s prose again.

If the book wasn’t rewarding by the end (i.e. if it had a disappointing ending), I won’t look any further. In fact, the experience by the end of the book will be one of relief (or a long sigh), not joy or elation.

One of the most interesting things I experienced after finishing a book is when I discovered that that book was the only one the author had written (or maybe they only wrote two). And if it’s an amazing book, it makes me wonder what happened or why the author didn’t write more books?

One book in particular that I recall where this was the case was A Canticle for Leibowitz. It was a book that won the Hugo Award for science fiction in 1961. After I read it, I discovered that the author (Walter Miller Jr.) had only written one other book, and it was published years after A Canticle for Leibowitz.

For me, this shows how strong and powerful writing can be when it really resonates with the reader. We want seek out more prose like it, and it can inspire us to write as well.