Sometimes, reviewing your old reading habits can surprise you. Sometimes you’ve forgotten about books you used to love, or sometimes you come across a book again and you can’t believe that you used to love it.
Or then, sometimes, just your actual reading statistics can surprise you.
In the beginning of the year, I was looking at my “year in books” on Goodreads. It was pretty normal stuff… number of books read: close on 60… I knew I hadn’t entered every single book I read during the year (especially not those I reread for the fifth time), but it’s a fairly accurate statistic. I take my Goodreads very seriously.
Then I clicked on “number of pages read” and things changed…
Sixteen thousand pages?! How is that even possible? What is sixteen thousand pages even supposed to be?
But looking at all those books, I had to agree that they probably could be 16,000 pages put together. There were a lot of thick books there.
According to the little pie-chart thing that Goodreads so kindly provided, most of those books were stuff I read for class. Yeah, I didn’t cut the names off like that, it was that way when I got there.
That, at least, wasn’t surprising. I guess I shouldn’t have been that surprised either that there were so many more books than any other year that I’ve been recording these things. Last year’s course was way different and more intense. Where we would spend about a week on a Shakespeare play before, now it was only one class. For another single period we had to read the entire Twilight Saga. I referred to that as my “2000 pages of torture”. I’m still looking for some of the brain cells that ran away during that time.
It’s so weird to see all those moments resurface in reading statistics. But still, the biggest question remained: how much is 16,000 pages really?
I did the math and worked out how high 16,500 pages would be if stacked in one pile (I rounded it down for easier sums as I am rusty at math). Then, for scale: I am 1,6 m short. (How much is that in feet? I don’t know. Ask Google.)
Together, all those books form a pile that is nearly a metre high. Against me this is almost 2/3 of my own height. It is high enough that I got bored drawing that stack of books.
This just keeps blowing my mind over and over. I complained a lot while reading all those prescribed books (and last year’s blog posts will bear witness to this), but I never realised what it all amounted to. I didn’t even read all the books I was supposed to read. Now I’m even more interested in reading statistics than before! 😀
How much do we really read in our lives? We think of books as things that fill bookshelves, but how much space do they really fill in our brains? How much of our lives are really taken up by the things that we read?
I’m going to go read now and ponder this some more.
Tomorrow I finally get to go see Frozen, which I’m very excited about.
PS. Do you still have a little room in your life for a 3D desktop calendar?
You can head over to my origami blog now to make one for yourself! 😀