Do you keep track of the books you want to read, whether review requests, your own books, or both?

I started out just remembering – it worked when I had few review requests. Then I began keeping a spreadsheet of the books, the contact who sent them to me, and the release date. I also, and still do on occasion, keep physical books in a stack on my desk, although this of course doesn’t help with ebooks – they need to be remembered. But I found a problem with spreadsheets, at least for me. It’s very easy to forget to check them, and allowing myself to add lists for a certain month’s worth of release dates meant I actually accepted more requests than I could handle; I accepted less when I had no list. In the case of my own books, I just slotted them in whenever.

Now I have a white board. It’s always there in front of me and the small amount of space means I have to stick to basic information. I’ve also started to list books I already own that I’d like to get to soon. I’d never done this before but it’s a fact that there are often books you want to get to that can be forgotten if you don’t note them down; it’s too easy to push them back as new books, whether review copies or not, arrive.

The space is a major upshot; as well as limited information it reminds me there are only so many books I can read in any certain period. That in itself has been a godsend for this reader.

Do you plan your reading?

Today I’m asking the above – what books have you sought out purely because their titles intrigued you? I believe there are likely some books that would grab everyone, but because we all approach reading differently, in the context of our differing personalities and backgrounds, I think it’s safe to say the answer wouldn’t be a one size fits all, rather ‘multiple sizes to fit a varied audience with a one-off sort-of one size fits all’. If that makes any sense.

As for myself, I’m partial to random titles. Whilst I loved the sound of The Particular Sadness Of Lemon Cake as Iris presented it in her review, it was nevertheless the title that made the biggest impression on me. The title is just so different, or at least it was at the time (more on that later), however I have to admit the fact that there was ‘lemon cake’ promised was just as important. I’m not a foodie, per se, but the idea of lemon cake just sounds wonderful. When I read that title I couldn’t help but picture a beautiful round springy cake. It makes my mouth water to write about it.

I think in this case it’s fair to say that Aimee Bender may have had this effect in mind when she was planning her title. (Of course if it was suggested by her publisher, they may have been thinking of the marketability of food, too.)

Other ‘random’ titles that have caught my interest and later my utter attention are The Obscure Logic Of The Heart (wasn’t keen) and The Luminous Life Of Lilly Aphrodite (loved). The first due to its sheer randomness, the second, well, let me digress.

I love alliteration. Pride and Prejudice, I Capture The Castle, and yes, the aforementioned Colin. I love alliteration so much that if an editing client has made use of it I can’t help but read the sentence with a huge smile on my face, even if I know that we’re ultimately going to have to cut or change it. If I had to write about a newspaper article in English Language class I concentrated on alliteration and whenever I’m stuck for an opening for a review, it gets the first look in. So although I won’t be drawn to an alliterative title as I am random ones, if it rolls off the tongue I will be noting it down.

In moving away from myself to encompass you all, there’s another question that must be asked. My thought that we will be intrigued by different titles still stands, but in recent years something has happened that implies there is that one size fits all.

Do you think the current trend of long quirky titles has anything to do with the idea that we read books because of their titles? Certainly it seems that authors/marketers/publishers have my interests in mind, and as such it’s surely safe to say that quirky titles are the one size fits all. A title is important, so it’s safe to assume that in giving us random quirky titles, market research has shown that they sell well. We’ve titles such as The Curious Incident Of The Dog In The Night-Time, The First Book Of Calamity Leek, and The Unfinished Work Of Elizabeth D.

On this note I will say that in my own opinion I think the market is saturated. I think now there are so many quirky titles they aren’t going to have as much of an affect, as far as choosing books for their titles, that they would have had in the past couple of years. I know that I’ll see a random title and no matter the subject matter of the title, I will inevitably think ‘been there, done that’. I will read the book anyway if I like the sound of it but the title will play no role in my choice. In a very few cases it has put me off.

Perhaps I, you, we, will stop being interested in random titles entirely and be drawn to another type instead.

I know I will always be drawn to titles that evoke things I like or am interested in. History – naturally, food – sometimes, locations and the names of real people – often, but as far as format goes alliteration and, if not overused for too much longer, random titles, will always hold first place for me. A cover can be average, a blurb not too informative, but if the title’s right I’ll be reading the book.

Over to you – what kind of title entices you to read a book? And do you think the trend of quirky titles is to do with a general interest in books with quirky titles? (Or do you think authors are just copying each other because they like the concept?)

I’ve always had a thing for bookmarks but when it comes to using them my small collection gets forgotten. I’m not sure there’s an exact reason but I can think up theories.

I don’t like the way they make progress so obvious – which when you’re a slow reader is a problem. I know you can always see your progress in how many pages is held in the left compared to the right hand (or the balance on the table), and I’m not sure why that doesn’t make an impact.

I’m always aware of the thickness of a bookmark. This is more the case with older designs, the sorts you find in museum souvenir shops, the leather/faux leather traditional look, but I know I consider too much the effect adding a bookmark would have on the physical structure of the book itself. I got in the habit of re-shelving current reads, knowing I’d not forget them because of the bookmarks, and bookmarks can make an already crammed shelf more so.

Lastly I just forget to use them and I place too much emphasis on my constantly-proved-wrong theory that I’ll remember which page I’m on. This theory has resulted in me taking a while longer to get back into a book simply because it’s no fun trying to remember if I’d read certain chapters or not.

I need to get back into using bookmarks. I haven’t a clue where I left off the classics I’ve carried over from last year and although I know bookmarks can’t summarise what I’ve already read, they do make whether you go back and reread a choice rather than a mishap.

And it’s occurred to me I’ve lost my fancy Henry VIII bookmark and the stack of Persephones I’d kept.

Do you use bookmarks? And are souvenir leather bookmarks a thing in places other than the UK?

Is it better to be able to say “I liked this book and know I would’ve liked it even more if I’d read it as a child” rather than to re-read an old favourite later in life and find it’s lost its magic?

There is a sense of loss in the first case, that you have enjoyed it but know that you’ve missed the chance to have appreciate it in the way it was intended. You’ve lost the innocent and yes, ignorance, required to be spellbound. You know that dragons don’t exist and that there aren’t, at least to our present scientific knowledge, parallel worlds to be opened with a subtle knife.

There can be a loss when you re-read a childhood favourite. Many books do retain their magic, and even you will always remember that you did love the book more and you’ll likely remember the feeling, too.

But it’s different; it’s the whole ‘you never miss what you never had’ and whilst I don’t stand by that saying in general, I think it can be applied to books in this way. As they say in Casablanca, ‘we’ll always have Paris’. However to make up for the lesser enjoyment, the potential disappointment, the re-read later in life has it own merits, especially, I would say, if it’s a book for children in their young double digits or young teen years – that stage where you might not catch everything that’s there for the taking. And if it is a book for that/those age groups, it’s often far enough away in your past that you’ll see it in a new light, take something new away from it.

Which do you think is better? Which do you prefer – to know you missed out, or to potentially be disappointed (whilst, perhaps happy to have a new take on the book)?

There are plenty of books I’ve read that I didn’t read as a child, mostly notably for me, The Last Battle by C S Lewis (spoilers here on in for the books discussed). Now I am biased against this book due to the way it ends, however it is still of use as an example here because of the very fact that I likely wouldn’t have realised, as a child, what I did as an adult. I wouldn’t have caught on to the slight over make-up, even if I know I may have caught on to the deaths. The deaths I expect my parents would have discussed with me to the point where I was content enough with the book. Either way, my ignorance would’ve led me to enjoy it.

Then there is The Secret Garden. I loved the film as a child, and used my memories of it when creating the images in my head as an adult. I read the book for the first time a few years ago and enjoyed it immensely, but I reckon I would’ve enjoyed it even more as a child. The magic of it would’ve swept me away, and there’s only so much dreaming of such gardens as an adult unless perhaps you happen to have a vast sum of money.

As for books I read a second time, the titles that spring to mind are Northern Lights and Across The Nightingale Floor. Both were favourites at the turn of my first decade; I loved them completely. (And somehow the section about daemons – trying to avoid spoilers here – in first didn’t manage to upset me as much as it did the second time around, which I think shows how much the magical elements took my attention.)

Northern Lights I enjoyed the second time, but not nearly as much. I understood much more which, given the subjects, made it difficult to read, and there was of course the inevitable discovery that it was nearly as long a book as I’d thought. I saw much more cruelty in Mrs Coulter and Lord Asriel left me very unimpressed. The initial plan was to move straight on to book two, The Subtle Knife, which I managed to work into the start of this post, but I’ll have to plan it. (And I should, really, because The Amber Spyglass looked far too long a book at that age to consider reading.)

Lastly in this ‘rambulation’ of experiences comes Across The Nightingale Floor. An interesting one this was. I loved it the first time, it started my affair with Asian history, and I managed to leave my confusion over a boy talking of ‘satisfying his desire’ behind as I continued on. The mix of history and fantasy was great, the end battle took 45 minutes to read, and the story was unique (that last part I still believe to be true). A couple of years ago the book fell a bit flat. I liked it, but I didn’t feel the same, though I did understand what the boy meant about satisfying desires and very much appreciated the fact that Takeo was a bisexual teenager in a ’90s YA book. YA may have been rather gritty back then, but in general I don’t remember it being quite so diverse.

There are definitely benefits to the second mode of reading, the re-read of childhood favourites, as much as there are drawbacks. The drawbacks are very natural, and I’m sure if I told any of my favourite children’s authors that they weren’t as fantastical any more they’d say I was stating the obvious, that I was no longer the target. Even if there is certainly much to gain as an adult.

The benefit of having missed out as a child is that your view isn’t tainted. Different than it may have been, yes, but you’ve no previous experience to compare it too.

The interesting thing is that when I started this post I was of the opinion that missing out was better, but studying the re-read aspect has made me change my mind. I think there’s a balance. What you miss out on from missing out as a child makes you unbiased and not disappointed in your discussions, objective. What you lose in re-reading is compensated by a second view, a more informed or deeper reading, the ability to appreciate how the author wrote what they wanted to say for a younger audience.

I think, to me, both have their merits, and as it’s not something you can control unless you happen to be focused on foresight as a child, that’s just as well.

What have been your experiences so far? Do you have preference?

I’m of the belief that one can never know too many methods for finding ideas for blog posts. Just as it’s good to have a plethora of topics to write about, it’s good to have a number of methods you can use to find them. And I find that no matter how existing methods I may know, I have the urge to discover more. Whilst well-used methods rarely become stale, the very act of learning new ones can boost idea formation by a significant amount.

If it hasn’t been obvious already, I have a ‘thing’ for blogs that focus on blogging. Whilst a lot of it doesn’t appeal or relate to me, I find the blogs fascinating nonetheless and have learned a great deal.

Here is what I’ve learned. Much of it is well-known enough I doubt anyone remembers the source, but for those I know I’ve given credit. Whilst I’ve written this post myself, paraphrasing when appropriate, I put my comments in italics so I could add extra thoughts.

1. Write down every idea you have. Every one, even those you think bad.
2. Keep up to date with news outlets and other blogs, especially ones in your niche. This often leaves you with timely ideas but mostly importantly being able to write about a subject requires you to be in constant ‘contact’ with it.
3. Look up what’s featured on StumbleUpon and other sites that are driven by trends.
4. Browse sites that accept user questions.
5. Think about who you’re writing for – who, in general terms, are they?
6. Make use of surveys and questions.
7. Read the comments you receive and take note of your own responses.
8. You know those times you’re writing a post and want to expand on a point that’s only worth one sentence in the context of that post? Do it – in a new post.
9. Look at the search terms people use to find your site. Look also at the terms people type into your blog’s search bar.
10. Search terms from search engines may be dwindling, but you can find ideas simply by looking at what people have been reading on your blog.
11. Start typing a phrase into the Google search bar but don’t click enter. See what suggestions you’re given for adding more words. If you have an idea for a subject but not the post itself, for example, you know you want to write about Jane Austen, you could type in ‘was Jane Austen’ and see how the search engine suggests you complete the sentence. (You will of course sometimes run into inappropriate suggestions, so be careful.) The initial idea of Googling a term was popularised by Wil Reynolds.
12. ProBlogger: Use photographs for inspiration.
13. ProBlogger: Take your last 5 posts, write the topics down and brainstorm anything you can think of that could spin off from them. This I discovered earlier this week; it’s a good visual alternative to thinking about how to expand on topics.
14. ProBlogger: Have you changed your opinion on something you’ve previously written?
15. Mark Traphagen: Learn to see ideas everywhere. Relate things you read to your subject, look for things others might miss. As an example, every time I see a nice scene I wonder if I could capture it in a photograph. Going out comes under this method too – there are only so many ideas you’re going to think up whilst at your computer.

To find ideas you have to look, you have to be open-minded, you need to be present, and you have to remember to live life.

Have you any methods to share?