“If you only read the books that everyone else is reading, you can only think what everyone else is thinking.”
- Haruki Murakami
I love reading fiction.
But for every hour I read nonfiction (especially the very literal and “helpful” kind, i.e. finance, investing, research, self-help, most substack content, etc.), I might allow myself 15 minutes of mind-wandering fiction.
For the last month, I’ve flipped the ratio and become significantly happier reading (and therefore, have been reading a lot more). Couple thoughts as to why:
Resetting the recommendation engine
I’ve fallen into a cycle of reading books that similar people, having similar conversations, thinking similar things, enjoy. Someone at work recommends The Intelligent Investor, you read it and discuss with another co-worker. Based on that conversation, they recommend The Most Important Thing, and another colleague recommends Engines that Move Markets
Amazing books, related to your work, and things your co-workers likely also enjoy. But these don’t push against the boundaries of these relationships or your scope of reality
The best thing that happened at work this year: I left a copy of Never Let Me Go out on my desk one day after reading it on the way to work. Someone who I would have never imagined reading for fun, let alone that book in particular, walked into my office and said it was their favorite book of all time. We’ve traded several books and stories since thanks to that happy accident; now whenever he’s in my office, after we discuss whatever (un-)serious work thing he’s there for, he always asks what I’m reading. It feels like I’ve unlocked a new side quest of discovering what people “actually” like to read and think about
New brain chemicals
There’s no medium more immersive for me than reading a physical book. It beats out every alternative, including film, since I’m free to imagine every detail without pre-formed visual interpretation. I can’t help but imagine this is good practice for empathic social cognition and perspective-taking
Language is also full of spatial metaphors, and reading forces subconscious engagement with this mode of thinking. “We often talk about putting ourselves in others’ shoes, seeing something from someone else’s point of view, or figuratively looking over someone’s shoulder,” [Thakkar et al] and novels force the reader to become the subject. It’s helped me in non-obvious ways to become (on the margin) less judgmental, and see different perspectives more clearly
Drifting vs. swimming
When everything else feels like a competition (swimming), I love that I’ve made some space to just immerse in something I genuinely enjoy with no real goal other than to enjoy it (drifting)
I also mostly read on my way to and from work, and it makes that commute incredibly enjoyable as a book-end to my workdays
It’s also helped me to build the muscle of solidifying a new interest into a daily routine, which I’ve failed to do on other fronts (i.e. getting eight hours of sleep, playing more guitar, not biting my nails, writing every day). But it does make me feel more confident in those ongoing pursuits
Imagine often
Have you had 3-6 month stretches that go by with nothing new? Fiction forces me to fire some neurons daily on something entirely new: imagining characters, emotions, worlds, that are a long journey away from my day-to-day
It’s made me more risk-seeking in positive ways (saying “one more sentence” when meeting new people), which in and of itself introduces amazing serendipity into everyday life
It also forces an “imagine often” function: spending some time every day immersing in unrealistic, fantastical, or just “not same” ideas that force some plasticity in thinking, and playful testing of ideas against constraints
I made a new friend recently because I started reading more. In his words, “I think so much of what makes art (and life) beautiful are the constraints.” Experiencing an infinity of fiction within a finity of pages helps me imagine, when I’m standing in The Midnight Library, what will I want to read most in my finite pages, and what will I regret not writing?
I’m currently reading Norwegian Wood, and have queued up Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow.
What are you reading?
