Scaling the TBR Pile Through Themed Reading
August was 'read the classical world month'. Not because I'm much of a classicist; of the five books I picked as my main month's reading, three were written for children, the fourth was a novel, and the fifth was popular history. Nor did August have any classical significance, other than being named after a Roman emperor. But I was experimenting with a tactic to get through my sprawling stack of books to read. That tactic is: themed reading. More specifically, picking a different historical period to read each month.
I chose period themes because they fit what I read. Most of my TBR pile consists of literature, history, and children's/YA fiction. Since the start of the year, I've dedicated months of reading to the early-ish Middle Ages, the later-ish Middle Ages (periodization had to be generous here), and the seventeenth, eighteenth, nineteenth, and twentieth centuries. Anything that fits the theme is game. That includes history about the period, literature of the period, or historical fiction with a period setting.
At the start of each month, I do a walk-through of my TBR pile. I pull out whatever fits the period theme and make a separate, bite-sized stack of that month's reading. This I place enticingly on the table by my reading chair.
My goal for the month, then, is to read that stack of books. Separated from the rest of the behemoth, the stack instantly appears a lot more manageable. It's small. I'm actually impatient to get to some of the titles. For the best and most hygellig results, it's good to place a drink and a bowl of plums, Turkish Delight, or Chocolate Frogs nearby. Sometimes I put on music of the period for additional atmosphere.
Of course, a monthly challenge could take any theme. Historical periods best fit what I have, but they're not perfect subdivisions. Some of the books on my pile, particularly the sci-fi and fantasy, inevitably get left out and wait to be tackled another time. Alternative themes could be genre or country of origin, books by women or by authors of colour. Or reading all books beginning with 'A', then 'B', then 'C'. One September, I pulled out a bunch of books that I subjectively thought 'autumnal' and read only those until the season changed. Any division that suits the makeup of your library will do.
The purpose of a theme is to break down the TBR pile into chunks. If you're a person with an out-of-control pile of books to read, you know not only that the choice of what to read next can be overwhelming, but that the pile's tendency to keep rising can make the whole task feel as futile as it is glorious.
Tackling a monthly theme gives you manageable targets. It eliminates the agony of choice. It gives you confidence that at least some of those languishing volumes will finally make the leap from your shelves into your brain. It also gives fresh interest to books you might have forgotten why you even bought in the first place. That volume that's lain out of sight for years, ignored by all but parchment mites, might be the very thing to fit the current theme.
Through my themed reading, I've rediscovered books I'd held on to for years. Some were wonderful, the kind that invoke the reaction, 'Why did it take so long?'. Others turned out to deserve their neglect. But now they can at least go to the charity shop, and make room for more deserving ones.
I don't stick strictly to the theme. Other books ask to be read — especially new, shiny ones — and if I finish my little stack with time to spare, I squeeze one of them in. I plan to make December free choice, so I can read purely for fun and revisit seasonal favourites during the holidays.
Reading should never be proscriptive. The point of a self-imposed challenge is to reawaken interest and motivation. If it becomes limiting, it loses its purpose. Themes are one way to finally tackle unread books while also revealing the rich possibilities they contain. There was no particular reason why I had three different retellings of Homer on my pile. But reading them all during my 'classical month' was an insight, in miniature, into how one book can expand into the interests of a lifetime.
