I don’t think readers talk about this enough.
Most of us have at least one book sitting on a nightstand, coffee table, or tucked into a bag with a bookmark frozen somewhere around Chapter Twelve. We didn’t stop reading because we stopped enjoying it. Life simply wandered in and demanded our attention. Work got busy. The kids needed us. Someone got sick. We moved. A new hobby came along. A vacation happened. Or maybe we were just too tired to do anything more demanding than stare blankly at the television for an hour before bed.
The book waited.
That’s one of the lovely things about books. They don’t get offended. They don’t send passive-aggressive text messages asking why you haven’t called. They simply sit there, patiently holding your place until you’re ready to come back.
As writers, we understand that better than you might think. Of course, we’d love it if every reader devoured our novels in one glorious weekend. But real life doesn’t work that way. Real life is wonderfully messy. Sometimes reading comes first. Sometimes everything else does.
I’ve picked up books months after setting them down and found myself wondering why I ever stopped. Within a page or two, I was right back in the story, as though the characters had simply been waiting for me to get home. So, if you’ve got a half-finished novel sitting somewhere in your house, consider this your permission slip.
Don’t feel guilty. Don’t apologize. Just pick it up again whenever you’re ready.
The story will still be there. And I have a feeling the characters will be happy to see you.
–Mark