Two years ago, I went on a non-fiction reading spree.
You might be familiar with the exaggerated number game on social media: reading 100 books per year or 10 books a day, being crowned a “reader” based on raw numbers.
And I fell right into the mania. I even made a Bookstagram account three years ago.
For those who don’t know, it’s a tiny corner on Instagram where people post aesthetic book photos, talk about reading goals, and call themselves bookstagrammers. I took photos, posted quotes, and made stacks look cute.
Sometimes I even read the books in those photos.
In my defense, I was in dire need of a community and needed some escape from a major health crisis, and it worked for a while.
I felt like I was doing something meaningful by reading book after book, only to realize I was just counting numbers.