I Only Read Good Books

“I only read good books.”

If you’re like me, you probably rolled your eyes when you read this phrase. I can’t blame you. “I only read good books” gets repeated endlessly throughout certain internet book communities, and it packs a hell of a lot of internalized bias into five words.

But what’s wrong with reading good books, you ask? Absolutely nothing. In fact, I stand by the statement: I only read good books. But I think I might mean something different than most of the readers who proudly proclaim this to anyone who will listen.

The label of Good Books often leaves out brilliant writing by marginalized creators, is incredibly biased and subjective, and assumes a lot about others’ reading habits. So regardless of whatever personal meaning you attribute to the phrase, I have a few issues with “I only read good books.”

Issue #1: Not all good books are given the same chance.

A few years ago, I picked up Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson and rediscovered my love for reading. I started networking in online SFF book communities and met people that I consider to be close friends, despite never having spoken to them face to face. Some of these new friends were complaining that most of the books they saw discussed online were all written by cishet white men, and that people were disproportionately reading books by men in general.

As a cishet white man, I naturally responded by attempting to prove them wrong. I made a spreadsheet of all the books in my Read shelf on Goodreads and tallied up how many books I’d read were written by men. SPOILER: It was a lot. At least 85-90 percent of my reading material was written by men. And the stats on my reading of authors of color and other marginalized groups were even more embarrassing.

I was floored. How had this happened?

I went looking through the Top Lists and awards that I’d been using to select my next reads, and found that the makeup of authors listed was eerily similar to my reading. So one of three things was happening: 1) these are just the authors who were writing speculative fiction, 2) these are genuinely the most talented writers, or 3) various external forces were preventing deserving Good Books from getting the publicity they needed.

A quick internet search can rule out the first, and a bit of common sense and varied reading can rule out the second. I’m not qualified to dive into the third in any depth, but this realization was enough to convince me I should be making a conscious effort in how I sought out new books.

After all, I wanted to only read good books, and I was clearly missing out on what the genre had to offer.

Issue #2: What the !@#$ is a good book, anyway?

Subgenres fall in and out of favor over the years as everyone scrambles to predict what the market wants. Different writers excel at different parts of the craft. And individual readers can have wildly different opinions on the same book. (Don’t believe me? Look up the 1-star reviews for your favorite book.)

So what the hell makes a book good?

Thankfully, the Bibliophile’s Unbiased Listing and Labeling System for the Hierarchical Indexing of Texts was invented so that no one would ever have a wrong opinion about a book again. It’s unfortunate that it made book clubs obsolete, but isn’t it nice that no one argues in bookish corners of the internet these days?

So… yeah. When it comes to books, there is no such thing as an objective standard of quality. One person may prefer deeply thematic books full of social commentary penned in exquisite prose. Someone else might just want to get lost in a ripping good tale. And the beautiful thing is, most books don’t fit neatly into one of these extremes. Some people won’t even agree which category applies to which book.

If you’ve been reading books with wizards and spaceships for any length of time, you’re probably familiar with what I like to call the Circle of Contempt. Nonfiction readers look down on fiction. Literary fiction readers look down on genre fiction. True SFF lovers would never stoop to reading YA (it’s for kids, don’t ya know). As much as each group hold enjoys looking down in contempt, they also resent the condescension of the groups “above” them.

And don’t get me started on the general attitude toward self-publishing.

It’s pretentious as hell to see someone reading a book they love, something that keeps them up into the wee hours of the morning, and say, “That’s nice. Just wait until you read a real book.” It’s tempting to think that if we’ve read hundreds of more books than someone else, our taste is inherently better. Or maybe you’re familiar with Starter Books. Books with simpler language that value fun over societal commentary that are meant to be stepping stones for readers to get to the Big Leagues. I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve seen people—even ones I respect deeply—say things like “Some people don’t mind bad writing if the story’s good enough.” Never mind that “good” writing is simply that which matches their personal tastes.

If that’s not gatekeeping, I don’t know what is. People should feel free to pick up any book they want, and their interests are every bit as valid as anyone else’s.

It’s just as bad to judge others for reading books where they can get lost in the beauty of the written word and have their assumptions about the world challenged. Again, people should feel free to enjoy any book they want. There. Is. No. Objective. Standard. Of. Quality.

When I say I only read good books, I might be reading books that you don’t think are good. And that’s okay.

Issue #3: No one wants to read bad books.

People read books for a variety of reasons. Whether that’s learning, opening up to new ideas and perspectives, entertainment, societal pressure, or any of a thousand other reasons, there’s no wrong reason to pick up a book.

But if a book makes me miserable, and has a net negative impact on my overall happiness, why finish it?

I used to be the guy that finished a 14-book series even if I only liked the first few. Once I’d started something, I had to finish, even if it took hundreds of grueling hours. To put it in technical terms: My parents didn’t raise no quitter. It wasn’t until I plugged into online book communities that I heard the term Did Not Finish (DNF) in all its verby glory. Why didn’t anyone tell me that was an option???

Even so, it took a long time to actually embrace the idea (and full disclosure: it’s an ongoing struggle). It’s one thing to set aside a book if you encounter something truly repulsive in the text. But what if you’re just not enjoying it? Life is too short to not enjoy the things we do for fun.

When you set aside the “bad” books, all that’s left to read are the good ones.

Key Takeaways

If you’ve managed to make it this far through a wall of text, wonderful! And if you’ve just skipped to the bottom because I included bold headings… Well, it’d be pretty hypocritical for me to tell you what and how to read, wouldn’t it?

Anyway, here’s what I hope you take away from this:

1. Popularity =/= quality. You’re missing out on brilliant books if you stick with what’s generally accepted as “best.”
2. There is no objective standard of quality. You’re biased. I’m biased. And that’s okay. (Unless your bias extends into prejudice and bigotry, which is decidedly not okay.)
3. Life is too short to read books we don’t enjoy.

I’m not trying to say that books that win awards or top end-of-year lists are bad. But they aren’t the only great books worth reading, and there’s likely a book out there somewhere you haven’t heard of that’ll become your new favorite at some point. I’m also not trying to say that there are no bad books. We’ve probably all encountered them before. But there is a clear difference between Bad and Not My Thing.

I go out of my way to challenge myself in my reading and expand my worldview. I stay up late at night reading books with accessible prose. And I set aside books that don’t give me joy, even if the only way I can do so is by promising I’ll pick them up again… one day.

Speculative fiction is the only genre of literature in which literally anything is possible. Let’s stop trying to narrow and restrict what’s allowed and focus on making everyone feel welcome instead. There are more good books out there than any of us will ever be able to finish.

Let’s go out there and read some.