For the entire month of June I’m planning on writing a series of blog-a-day posts based on a set series of open-ended questions to myself. This is one of those posts.
June 23rd // Something You Want To Read
Over the past couple years I’ve slowly been acquiring a small collection of books focused on a narrow band of topics in the non-fiction genre of information management, user interface design, and information design technology. I suppose like any good techie, the confluence of paper documentation with a set of well-loved ideas on a passion-inspiring topic is the metaphorical fly-on-honey. The problem is, despite my snails-pace of acquiring these new books, my pace at reading them has been even slower: I believe the commonly accepted simile is ‘glacial.’
I really do want to read them, though.
And when I say I want to “read” them, what I really want to do is sit down with a dedicated span of time — a cup of hot coffee in one hand, some mellow, reading-friendly-tunes on the earbuds — and not skim the pages as I’ve done a hundred times, flipping through looking for catchy bits, or even, occasionally, word-by-word trounce the tomes within a little window of time or space on the couch or the train. When I say I want to read them, I really want to prop those books open on a table, pencil at-the-ready, some sticky-notes nearby, and a fresh pad of paper awaiting the handwritten emergence of ideas that will possibly erupt from all that focus. I want to get into those books, treat them like I (should have) treated textbooks in University; not gingerly or with worry about their pristine and crisp, fresh-of-the-press quality, but like potential volume of knowledge to be stuffed into my mind, feeding into that frenzy of looming professional expertise I’ve been seeking to nuture, powering a sense of digital curiosity, and firing neural connections of career-minded eclectic wisdom-like-bits.
But for now, the collection is scattered. There are a few books on my desk at work. There are a couple stuck in various shelves at home. There might be one in the back-seat-pocket of my car. But they are all just… y’know… waiting to be read. And I want to.