What Five Years of Writing Book Reviews Taught Me
It was May 15, 2020.
After hitting the snooze on my iPhone the customary three times — usual for a Friday even before working from home — my mind immediately began to cycle through the various thoughts and emotions that dominated my waking hours.
The primary pair — fear and uncertainty — hallmarks of the first COVID-19 wave, had been near constant companions for two months, and I was getting better at managing them: Limit the doom scrolling. Keep your mind occupied.
This was easy enough during the work week, when rumors of furloughs and layoffs had kept me determined to prove my worth to my employer, but weeknights and weekends were proving more difficult. Boredom was taking hold, and with it some bad habits.
Since 2017, reading had become a massive part of my life. Filling my daily commute (anywhere from 45 minutes to 90 minutes) with a rotating cast of characters and insights that made one of life’s great tediums more than bearable; sometimes it was downright enjoyable.
While many struggled to find solitary activities that engaged and enthralled, I simply doubled down on filling my Libby queue with anything that seemed remotely interesting. Reading, which I had always treated as merely entertainment, would now become my escape.
Yet that morning I felt different. Unmoored is the best way I can describe it. I realize now that it was when the shock of how quickly and drastically life had changed — and the reality that it was not going to be "normal" again soon — finally started to hit me.
"I need a hobby." It was the first thing that popped into my head. "I should start a book review website."
What may seem like an act of impulse (low stakes, of course), had subliminally been taking hold for weeks thanks to a friend who made it a habit to tag me in #Bookstagram updates from creators posting reviews of novels I’d recently read.
I had no idea this world existed, but I was curious. Specifically by one Bookstagrammer (now defunct) who was similar to me: Married gay. Cat dad. Corporate job. Lover of depressing books. His account was a treasure trove of novels I’d never read before but that all felt tailor-made to my tastes.
"Is this an influencer?" I wondered as someone who had never been enamored by social media personalities.
It was his website, however, that really grabbed hold. It was simple, but clearly an act of love by someone with enough skill to make it look a hair above amateur. He said it was so he could "own his hobby," and I thought that was a great way to put it. After all, I was willingly giving Amazon (via Goodreads) my intellectual property in the form of book reviews.
So, that morning I decided. I would create a book review website. If for no other reason than it would keep me busy in the downtime between Friday at 5 p.m. and Monday at 8 a.m.
I’ll admit, I blatantly borrowed his structure, even down to the hosting platform (Squarespace) that I had never used, let alone heard of prior to that day. I spent that weekend trying to perfect the design while cursing how difficult I found it. Still, it was cathartic and challenging and distracted me from wandering thoughts.
After populating the site with a few longer-form reviews, I published it officially on May 21. The Instagram account soon followed on June 1, the first of my four mandatory vacation days from work. Those 10 days transformed my approach to reading, and it had nothing to do with my hobby and everything to do with George Floyd.
Like many white Americans, I finally grasped the scope and scale of racial inequity in the United States. It was disheartening to recognize that even as someone who viewed themselves as an advocate and ally to Black friends and colleagues, I was woefully ignorant.
One of my first Bookstagram posts was a review of "White Fragility" by Robin DiAngelo, for better or worse the book du jour for many white folks in June 2020. At this point I had, maybe, 60 followers, but the hate spewed upon me was overwhelming. I was called everything from a "race traitor" to "ignorant racist."
I quickly deleted the comments and thought maybe I should abandon my fledgling hobby altogether. Yet, that moment showed that my reach might be small, but I had a voice and people were listening – do something with it.
In the years since, both this site and I have lived a lot of life. My reading has mirrored the highs and lows – new jobs, the loss of loved ones, depression, joy, aging. Along the way, it’s also helped me clarify a few things about myself, and about the kind of people who seek out book reviews from strangers on the internet. Here’s what I’ve learned:
I Need to Read With Purpose
After George Floyd, it wasn't enough to read whatever came through my library holds list. I began actively seeking out books by authors who weren’t white, straight, cisgender men or women. Not as a punishment to them but as an expansion for me.
What stories had I missed because I only read what was marketed to me? Why did so many queer stories feel like revelations? Why were the books that lingered with me long after the final chapter almost always written by people who had something to prove?
Books As Performance
Social media opened a new window into the ways people showcase their reading lives. The carefully styled photos. The color-coded shelves. The limited edition books with sprayed edges and reversible dust jackets. I started to wonder: Was I curating a persona or sharing a passion? Maybe both. But I was also learning the difference between being well-read and reading well. Between consuming books and letting them change you.
People Love an Ambiguous Ending
The more I reviewed, the more I realized people hate unresolved stories. They want answers and clarity. Still, some of the best books I've read refuse to give it – just like life. Maybe that's why I like them so much. Maybe ambiguity is the most honest storytelling we have.
Ironically, some of the most visited pages on my website are the ones with spoiler discussions or "ending explained" breakdowns. Readers want closure, but they also want to talk about why they didn’t get it.
Structure Is Necessary (and Limits)
In the early days, I could spend 15 to 20 hours a week writing reviews, formatting posts and redesigning sections of the website. It was exciting, but also unsustainable. Over time, I learned to rein it in. I now try to limit myself to no more than three hours a week updating the site and writing. I’m better for it. Now, this hobby doesn’t consume me rather it complements my life.
I don’t post as much on social media these days, but I still read every day and I write. Every once in a while, someone tells me they picked up a book because of me, and it’s one of my greatest joys.
I started this website with very modest expectations. Honestly, I just hoped someone might offer me a free book someday. But it has grown beyond anything I could've imagined. I still do it for me, but I'm so glad it's reached thousands of people from every corner of the world. On the days I think about how terrible technology can be, this little project reminds me it's also a great connector.
Like books, it helps us find each other – and learn about ourselves.
