I’ve been trying, with varying success, to start reading more again. I read a ton in middle and high school, but it dropped off sharply when I left for college and found myself with countless better things to do, but I miss it. There’s a lot to be gained from books; I’ve learned things I didn’t even know I didn’t know because I stumbled across them in a book. Plus, I like to know what everyone’s so worked up about when they’re talking about the latest best seller.

The problem is bad books (or, more accurately, books that are “less good”). I’ve probably got a couple dozen books on my shelf that I haven’t read yet, and I feel like I should work my way through those before I go looking for more. However, I keep getting halfway through books that aren’t particularly grabbing my attention, and it sits there for two months before I get through it, or just give up; I probably started Tuxedo Park six weeks ago, and I’m only halfway through. It’s well-written and the subject matter is pretty interesting, but I just can’t seem to get into it for more than a few pages at a time.

Every once in a while, I come across something great and burn through it like nobody’s business. This Sunday, I found myself in Pentagon City with a few hours to kill, so I wandered around Borders for a bit. A small, non-descript spine on the bottom shelf (somehow) caught my attention: Holidays on Ice, by David Sedaris. After flipping through it a bit, I decided to grab Naked while I was there. I finished the former that day, and I’ve been ripping through the latter. They’re incredibly well-written, funny, and just odd enough that you’re not sure when the truth stops and the stories begin.

Moral of the story: I love reading good stuff. I feel guilty giving up on a book without finished it - especially if I paid for it - but there’s too much good stuff out there to waste time with anything but. I reckon it’s time I find the nearest library so I can do some sampling for free.