I was shocked to discover today that I've only managed to finish reading 3 books so far this year: Marley and Me, Faith of a Writer, and The Traveller's Gift.
I have been tracking the books I read July 2002 on a spreadsheet. I list the title, author, publisher, publication date, number of pages, category, the date I started reading the book, the day that I finished reading it, and some general notes about it.
I have 11 books that I've started reading and have yet to finish. One of them, Atlas Shrugged, has been on the list since April 1, 2003. I am about two-thirds of the way through it, and can't bear to take it off my list, but yet I am not in a big hurry to finish it either. It has been sitting on my desk at work, and every once in a while I'll read a few pages during lunch if I have ABSOLUTELY NOTHING ELSE available to read. It has been one of those efforts to read one of those books that are considered to be classics, but I still can't quite figure out why.
I am up to 74 books on my list for this year. I count audio books (20) and graphic novels (36) on this list so this is where the bulk of my reading has been this year. The audio books, strictly for long drives and my commute to work, and the graphic novels... I use them as light meal-time or just-before-falling-asleep reading. I just love comic book superhero sagas. I always have, and probably always will, and they are the perfect way to end a long day or take a mental break from a work day.
I've always been bad about finishing the books that I start, but this is bad even for me. How can I call myself a writer if I haven't even been reading too many books this year? This is going to have to change...