I picked up a book on Sunday that had been on the shelf for a few months. I had started to read it but something else took my attention. I put it to one side.

I couldn’t remember much about the contents. It was a book about writing by a writer so there wasn’t much of a mystery to solve.

I read it for a few minutes on Sunday night. It wasn’t pulling me in. I picked up again last night for another go, but the reason I put it down instantly became clear.

I didn’t like it. I couldn’t get on with it. The way it’s written, the types of examples the author uses (all about himself), even the font size left me feeling empty.

Something I find time to do because I enjoy it wasn’t enjoyable.

The minute this happens, it’s worth stepping away. The book will be removed from the shelves, taken to the charity store. I don’t want it anywhere in the house.

Life’s to short to spend time doing something for fun, like reading, using your precious free time, and not enjoying it.

Put it down, find another book from the pile, and take a different journey.