Not everything is public (or we wouldn’t need the word)

There was an epoch in my life during which I was very concerned that others understood what I was reading (and how much) and what I was learning from it.

It almost didn’t matter why I was reading.

Just that people knew about it.

First, I realized very few people cared. (I’m sorry if you were among them.)

And then I realized I was reading for suspicious reasons.

I stopped telling people what I was reading, what I was learning, unless asked in private conversations.

Meanwhile, I’ve continued reading. I’ve developed a crude but useful way to actually learn again and again from books I’ve read. Here is a snapshot of the spreadsheet I keep in Fieldbook:

the “what-I-learned” column is most useful

At the moment I have roughly 70 books here from the past year or so. When I need reminders of what I loved about a book, I return to this spreadsheet. I know from participating in the 2014 USA Memory Championship that our memories don’t serve us too well all the time and that I don’t need to be a hero in terms of what texts I’ve herbed lately.

The most interesting thing:

Stories and the language that brick by brick create them are fascinating for their nuance and complexity and beauty and their passing of knowledge to the listener/reader/consumer.

I’m eager to slowly glean and gather what I can from conversations that have gone before me. To build on them if I can.

If you’d like to join my beta reading team for the next draft of my novel, head over here:

Please remember to say hello! once you’re inside. Thanks!