Recently, a long‑time friend gifted me a book. Normally this is a safe bet. I’m an avid reader. Give me paper with words on it, and I’m happy. I read cereal boxes. I read museum plaques. I read the fine print on shampoo bottles. I read everything.
So, imagine my shock when I opened this book and discovered…
nothing. Nothing, as in no punctuation. Not a period. Not a comma. Not even a
rebellious semi‑colon trying to start a revolution. Just one long,
uninterrupted literary scream. It felt like the author had taken a deep breath
in 1972 and never exhaled.
I fought my way through a couple of pages—squinting,
sweating, mentally begging for a comma like it was water in the desert—before
emailing Joe, my friend of nearly 50 years, to ask whether the entire book was
written like someone had thrown grammar out a window.
Joe confirmed that yes, the whole thing was punctuation‑free.
He encouraged me to read on, pointing out the literary and cultural allusions
sprinkled throughout the first few pages as if that would soothe my rising blood pressure.
I had caught the allusions—plus a few he hadn’t mentioned—but
the experience was giving me a headache. Still, I trudged through the first
chapter, mostly out of stubbornness and the faint hope that maybe, just maybe,
a period would appear like a rare desert flower.
It did not.
Meanwhile, Joe started sending me articles—glowing reviews
of the book—to convince me to read on. With 50 years of friendship, I
generally trust Joe’s recommendations, so I went back to the beginning and slogged
through to the end of the second chapter.
That’s when I had the moment. The moment every reader knows.
The moment when you close the book, stare into the middle distance, and think: “Why
am I doing this to myself?”
Life is too short to spend your free time wrestling with a
book that feels like an Olympic event.
Now, let me be clear.
As I wrote previously, there is power in reading. Some books are challenging
because they’re meant to be; they offer deep truths, vital history, or new ways
of seeing the world. Some books are emotionally heavy or slow, but worth the
effort because they expand your mind. And some books should be read simply
because they’re foundational to cultural literacy.
But here’s the problem: Americans aren’t reading much anymore. The National Endowment for the Arts reports that the share of people who read for pleasure on any given day dropped from 28% in 2004 to 16% in 2023—a decline of more than 40%. According to YouGov’s data 40% of Americans didn’t read a single book in 2025.
There are many reasons for this decline, but one big one is
that people don’t enjoy reading something simply because they're told they should read it.
So, here’s my suggestion: Your free time is precious. Don’t
spend it on a book that bores you or frustrates you. There are millions of
wonderful books waiting for you. Giving up on a boring one simply frees you to
find a story you’ll actually love.
