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The saga of incomplete books



Reading has always been my favourite hobby, and I bring a book everywhere with me. Yet, it feels like it takes me months to get through one book. I will finish the first 90 per cent of a book within two days, and the last 10 per cent over the next year, and I can’t figure out why.

My backpack has turned into an unfinished book storage unit. One I have right now, “Dragons of Winter Night,” has less than 40 pages left to read. I could read that in the Tim Hortons line up! But I don’t; I haven’t touched the book in months. Perhaps the ending is too boring, or I burned myself out to quickly. I have a sneaking suspicion, though, that my commitment to the story may play a small role. Ending a book feels like the ending of an adventure, and finishing that last page may be the last time I see those characters. They deserve more than a two-day binge read.

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