By keeping track of the books I read, I’ve made a rod for my own back

Books have always felt like an escape for me – a point of connection with others and a private joy that I can sink into like a hot bath. Few things in life give me greater pleasure than to lose myself in the pages of a novel, and by reading voraciously, I hope I can challenge myself to become a better writer too.

I read quite quickly, so I get through a lot of books. They’re something I never feel guilty about spending money on, and my flat is absolutely packed with them. I gave up Amazon after editing Emmie Harrison–West’s eye-opening piece in January about the poor treatment of workers at the online retail giant, and I now get my books secondhand from charity shops and eBay, or Waterstones if I’m feeling flush.

I religiously avoid book clubs, and it hadn’t ever occurred to me to become a “BookTuber” or get involved with “BookTok” (even typing those terms out makes me feel exhausted). But recently, I’ve started keeping a record of the books I’ve read each month.

I stack them up, take a picture, and put it on Instagram. Hopefully, people like the titles I recommend or my post makes them feel like picking up a book again if they’re not reading one. I also thought it would be nice for me to look back and see the novels I enjoyed in a particular month.

But I fear that what I’ve actually done is to put unnecessary pressure on myself, turning something fun into a chore. Do I now feel in competition with myself to read more titles than I did last month? Yes. Do I feel that my scant few Instagram followers will judge me for posting a smaller stack one month compared to the next? Yes. Am I now looking more critically at the books I’ve chosen, worrying if having some crime thrillers and beloved Stephen King classics in the mix means my reading habits aren’t highbrow enough? Also yes.

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Every time once-private hobbies and pleasures get projected into the ether of social media for other people’s approval – or to be monetised as an increasingly obligatory “side hustle” – there’s a risk that they won’t feel the same anymore. For some, that’s great; it means they can find a sense of community and recognition online. For me, it probably means overthinking something that once felt natural. Rest assured, I won’t be posting #BookTok videos anytime soon.

Yours,

Harriet Williamson

Voices commissioning editor