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When To Stop Reading a Book

It’s abundantly obvious that I love books. I work in a bookstore. Books are one of my favorite things to talk about. Every day that I go to work I see more things I want to read, or I read about things I want to read, or am reminded of books I want to read. A day does not go by where I don’t read something, be it a novel, nonfiction, or a magazine. And I’ve been like that since I learned to read when I was small.


There are too many books, in the world, on my shelves. I physically can’t read them all, and, more to the point, I don’t actually want to read them all. I don’t like everything. I’m better than I used to be about figuring this out before I actually start a book. I know, generally, the genres that don’t work for me and stay away from them. I check out which authors have quotes on the covers of a potential read, knowing if they’re ones I’ve enjoyed it’s worth a second look. If they are writers I already know I wouldn’t read, then it’s likely that this title won’t work for me either. Even the covers can give me a clue. If the design is similar to other books I’ve liked, then this one is worth a try as well. And then there’s always Cindy’s “first page test.”