Last year, a lot of time went into making excuses for the low number of books read. Goals weren’t reached, and it’s not unusual to fall short. Instead of lowering the goal to something “realistic,” the plan is to step up and try again. In 2025, ten books were completed. The new goal? 50. This January, the plan is to tackle at least four.

This month, I would like to read three books alongside our online book club pick, and I’m trying a new method: being intentional about when I read. The year started with a bang. I got food poisoning on the second day. Off to a great start. You would think lying in bed for twenty hours would have been the perfect excuse to read, but it wasn’t that simple. I won’t get into the obvious details.

I’ll be reading The Year of Magical Thinking with the wonderful members who have joined on Fable, and I’ll tackle the books that have been sitting in a pile on my nightstand for ten months. Yes, I see them every day. Multiple times a day. I move them out of the way when I clean and sweep that IKEA table, then place them back with shame. And I do it often. I avoid looking at them as I slip into bed and tell myself that I’ve already made my choice. To rest.

“If you have enough energy and time to read, you should be lesson planning or writing instead.” That’s the nightly negotiation, and reading always loses.

The books I’ll be reading in a very blue January include:

The Year of Magical Thinking by Joan Didion

I’ve loved Joan Didion’s work as she paved the way for New Journalism. I clipped her work and compiled her articles long before considering exploring her mind through her books.

This is Didion’s account of the year after her husband, John, died suddenly. It is not a story in the traditional sense, but an intimate look at how grief takes over your life and your mind. Didion writes with clarity and precision, noticing the small, absurd, and painful moments that come with mourning. She shares the thoughts we cling to, the rituals we invent, and the strange ways we try to make sense of what cannot be changed.

The book examines magical thinking, a term for the sense that you are responsible for someone else’s outcome, when your mind tricks you into believing that if you act or think a certain way, you could somehow change what has already happened. It is about love, memory, and the limits of control. Reading it, you understand how grief can feel both chaotic and strangely ordered, how life keeps going even when it feels like your world has stopped.

It is raw and honest, as everything Joan Didion has put out into the world.

Bluets by Maggie Nelson

Bluets is a lyrical and deeply thoughtful meditation on grief, love, and the ways we see the world, all through the color blue. I first picked it up before grief had touched my life, and now I’ll be rereading it with new eyes. Maggie Nelson has truly earned her place among the most brilliant lyric essayists, and this book feels as timeless as it does personal.

Pages: 112

Fear of Flying by Erica Jong

Fear of Flying by Erica Jong is a bold, honest, and often hilarious exploration of desire, independence, and the ways women feel constrained by society. Jong’s protagonist navigates love, sexuality, and the pursuit of personal freedom with wit and fearless honesty. It is a book about risk, self discovery, and the ways we confront both our limitations and our craving for adventure. I was introduced to this book by a reader who suggested it when I asked for options for our online book club.

At first, I wasn’t sure I should read it, as I have developed a deep fear of flying since COVID. I think the reenactment videos of plane crashes I watched before a flight might have played a role. There was always an underlying doubt that crept into every flight, but the phobia happened overnight. I stopped flying for over a year and took five day train journeys eight times during that period. It felt like a rather ironic shortcut to get home, visit family, and fulfill work duties.

I got back on my first flight in 2022 and have taken six eleven and a half hour flights since. They say exposure is the key. I am still waiting for that to work. But I do feel a little of what I imagine climbers feel when they reach the peak of a mountain their brain told them would collapse.

Now, I am excited to read Jong’s classic from a perspective I actually understand. I do not know why I ever thought I had to pair loneliness with this fear. I will be reading it after my flight next week, as I am not made of stone.

Pages: 340

The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway

Ah yes, the book I bought in 2012. This one just feels like a task at this point. That’s what happens when you think about reading a book for fourteen years and get the surprised, “How have you not read this classic yet?” I will feel a sense of relief that just doesn’t pair with any work created by Hemingway. I will feel like a novice, and judged by the author, as I read very explored territory.

The Old Man and the Sea follows an old fisherman named Santiago, who has gone 84 days without catching a fish. Determined to prove himself, he sets out alone into the Gulf Stream and hooks a giant marlin. The story is described as a grueling struggle between man and nature, testing endurance, pride, and resilience. Hemingway’s prose is famously simple and spare, but every word is said to carry weight. I’m curious to see how it all reads, and how it will feel to finally enter a story that has loomed over me for more than a decade.

An additional issue I have with this reading experience is that I know exactly what it’s about. I’ve read reviews, analyses, and even taken part in conversations about it. That’s a first for a book I have yet to read.

Pages: 160

Honorable mentions, not promises

Future Saints by Ashley Winstead

If you’re craving a dynamic and refreshing romance, as I have been, Ashley Winstead’s story might be a great read.

In The Future Saints, Theo, a music executive, and Hannah, a lead singer in a rock band, seemingly play out a similar plot to that of Daisy Jones and the Six. This contemporary romance is set to be released on January 20.

Pages: 352

Half His Age by Jennette McCurdy

I missed out on the I’m Glad My Mom Died train and won’t be missing McCurdy’s debut novel this time.

Since becoming a number one New York Times bestselling author in 2024, Jennette McCurdy has established a humorous approach to discussing explored themes of trauma, all while experiencing the limelight at a vulnerable age. Her novel is set to be released on January 13, and I expect it to be at the epicenter of social platforms and reading conversations.

In her next project, McCurdy doesn’t stray from tackling heavy topics. Loneliness, sex, and the internet as the push and pull we all try to balance. She has claimed her own voice as a woman and as an author, giving power back to womanhood in a world of Lolita narratives, through a seventeen year old protagonist, Waldo.

Pages: 288

Confronting the Pile

If you’re noticing the pattern here, it’s easy to put things on the back burner for months or even years. Goals can be parked, and self-interest ignored. Energy remains on the sidelines, waiting, unsure how to join in. Excuses come easily when work and responsibilities demand attention, leaving little space for what sparks personal purpose.

Some things just sit there until you finally deal with them, like sticker sheets waiting to be placed. And I’m starting with that damn pile on my nightstand.

Keep track of this process on my Goodreads account: