I started last weekend with seven books I wanted to finish. It’s now Wednesday and I’m at nine. The stack grows faster than I can read it. It’s an endless climb, and I can’t say I’m thrilled about it.

Life is full of choices. What to eat, who to spend your time with, where to work, what to watch, what to wear… endless choices. Reading is another choice, and so is what you read. I’ve decided to be as aggressive with paring down books as I am with choosing what I watch on television. If it’s not grabbing me by the shoulders and screaming look! or isn’t providing useful information that moves me forward then I’m simply not sticking with it.

Perhaps I’ll miss out on something, but more likely than not I’ll read more, finish the good stuff and give myself permission to get rid of the rest. Enough with partially read but never finished piles on the bed stand or clogging up the Kindle app. It’s time to downsize the marginally interesting to make room for the highly compelling.