Consistent with the inevitable mass generation of New Year’s Resolutions this month, one oft-cited pledge has been on my mind as of late: reading more. But, who has time to do it? Since entering college more than 20 years ago, the most I ever read in any one year was probably six novels—and that’s when I was taking English Lit. Though I always enjoyed reading for the sake of it and the sense of accomplishment that came with completing a book in earnest, the notion of tallies never bothered me too much. As the years went by though, with work- and family-related activities taking centre stage in my focus, six seemed like a lot, almost unachievable anymore.

I recall a conversation with a bibliophile, a while back, who advised that her goal for that particular year was to hit 52, implying a one-per-week quota—an impressive feat. Where some people with children may scoff at the notion that such a thing could be possible for them, I ask them to consider the following: Were you already "not reading" before your kids came along? The bibliophile I mentioned enjoyed reading and was motivated to do it—that’s why she did it. You need to enjoy it; you need to want to; and this motivation will lead you to organise the time to do it.

Reading fiction can be hard work and not because of the complex nature of some narratives, topics, or styles; rather, you have to enjoy what you’re reading. If my wife and I try a new TV show and neither of us likes it after the first episode or two, we abandon........

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