Stop Forcing Yourself to Read the “Right” Books
How switching between novels and essays keeps reading light, consistent, and alive
For years, I treated reading like a productivity tool.
One book at a time.
One category at a time.
Finish what you start.
Prefer non-fiction because it’s “useful.”
It sounded disciplined, it looked serious, but it slowly killed my desire to read.
What changed everything for me wasn’t a new reading list, it was a new rhythm.
I started alternating between essays (non-fiction) and novels (fiction), choosing based on my energy rather than on some abstract idea of what I should be reading.
And something unexpected happened:
My desire to read stopped fluctuating wildly.
It stayed alive.
The Problem Isn’t Time. It’s Friction.
Most of us don’t stop reading because we don’t value it, we stop because it becomes heavy.
After a long, stressful workday, picking up a demanding essay can feel like extending the workday by another hour. Your brain is tired. Your attention is fragmented. You read the same paragraph three times.
So you skip reading altogether.
The issue isn’t discipline.
It’s mismatch.
When your energy and your book are misaligned, reading creates friction. And friction slowly erodes desire.
Fiction as Recovery
When I’m stressed, overwhelmed, or mentally saturated, I lean into novels.
Stories don’t require performance. They don’t ask me to extract frameworks or underline key concepts. They allow me to enter, to feel, to imagine.
In those moments, fiction becomes mental recovery, because it feels lighter, I actually want to read. Even ten or fifteen minutes feel inviting instead of demanding. The habit doesn’t break. The desire doesn’t collapse.
And that’s crucial.
Reading is not sustained by willpower. It’s sustained by wanting to open the book again tomorrow.
Non-Fiction as Expansion
When I’m motivated, curious, and mentally sharp, essays become thrilling.
That’s when I want to think deeply. To connect ideas. To challenge my assumptions. To take notes. To apply insights to my work and life.
In high-energy phases, non-fiction doesn’t feel heavy, it feels expansive.
But here’s the key:
Because I’ve protected my reading desire during low-energy periods with fiction, I arrive at non-fiction phases with enthusiasm instead of exhaustion.
The alternation keeps the cycle healthy.
The Secret Is Not Variety. It’s Momentum.
At first glance, this strategy looks like simple variety, but it’s not about mixing genres for the sake of diversity. It’s about preserving momentum.
When I only read essays, I burn out.
When I only read novels, I eventually crave intellectual challenge.
When I alternate, neither side becomes overwhelming.
Each mode refreshes the other.
After a few weeks immersed in stories, I start wanting ideas again.
After a stretch of intense thinking, I start craving narrative.
That craving is powerful. It pulls me forward, and that’s the point: I no longer force myself to read. I follow the pull.
Always Keep Both on the Nightstand
My practical rule is simple:
Keep one novel and one essay in progress.
Choose based on your mental state, not your self-image.
Switch without guilt.
The goal is not to optimize learning.
The goal is to protect desire.
Because once the desire to read fades, rebuilding it is much harder than maintaining it.
Reading as Energy Management
We often think about managing time.
Rarely do we think about managing energy.
But reading is deeply tied to energy.
When you align your book with your mental state, reading becomes frictionless, and when it becomes frictionless, it becomes consistent, and when it becomes consistent, it becomes part of who you are.
Alternating fiction and non-fiction didn’t make me a faster reader.
It made me a steadier one and more importantly, it kept something alive: the quiet excitement of wanting to open a book at the end of the day.
Not because I should.
But because I genuinely want to.