Readers of this blog will surely recognize the sentiments in the linked essay. Even if you’re not a writer, you have experienced this very same frustration.
Of course, there was the possibility that my book was boring. Hence I would ask, “Did my book put you to sleep, did you give up a few pages after starting?” The answer would be, “No, honestly, I just haven’t started.” This was getting me nowhere. Were they lying to protect my feelings, or were they telling me an underlying truth, a truth I couldn’t comprehend?
I started pushing deeper: “Come on, tell me. I can handle it. What’s the real problem?” I would probe. After a few of these awkward conversations, I finally had the truth: “Actually, it’s not just your book in particular, but um, ah, honestly speaking, I just don’t like reading books.”