Goodreads Guilt

Every year, around this time, I feel the need to look at my Goodreads stats. It's not a particularly good inclination, because it always leaves me with a bit of "Goodreads Guilt."

Have I really read so few books this year?

Was that really what I spent my time reading?

Whatever happened to my plan to read book X or book Y?

Is my new-found interest in children's literature just padding my list?

And would I feel better if I included all the romance novels I read, or would that just make me feel worse?

It's like my Goodreads list has become the old-fashioned bookshelf that visitors to your home would peruse and judge you by. But at least in the olden days, that bookshelf contained all of the things you intended to read, not just the stuff you actually finished. That usually made it look a bit more impressive. This list seems deeply unimpressive.

I like to console myself with the trend: valleys when a child is born, with ever-rising numbers as they grow out of infancy. I never could read books while breastfeeding. For me, infants come with a strong dose of The Economist and Smithsonian magazine.

But the last one is three now. I have no excuse. 21 books.

21 books.

Only 21 books.

I still have time. Can I cram in another one or two before I have to end this year with such a paltry number? Or do I just try to make 2016 the year I finally read The Color Purple? The year I explore books that push my boundaries? The year my book club doesn't dominate my list?