On My Experience with DNF (AKA How Life's Too Short)

If you’ve been a long-time reader of my blog, you will know that I find it difficult to put down a book I’m reading, no matter how terrible, awkward, boring or bad it happens to be. I’ve always been stubborn about seeing novels through to the end, even if the end happens to be bitter or sour or disgusting or immaterial. I’ve put myself through quite a few titles (here’s one example, and another), and yet, I still have never felt discouraged enough to really embrace the art of DNF.

That all changed a couple of weeks ago when I read Dangerous. (I don’t plan on doing a full review, but I did a mini-review for Goodreads.)

Dangerous should have been a book I really enjoyed, really. It’s by Shannon Hale, an author I’ve read before and really enjoyed. It’s also a science fiction-meets-The Hunger Games kind of story, which would have been exciting and fun. Plus, that cover is gorgeous and you really can’t go wrong with that, right?

WRONG. Well, at least, I was wrong.

While I’m sure that there will be readers who enjoy Hale’s latest, I’m not one of them. The characters fell flat, the plot was weirdly paced and there was definitely some insta-love in the mix. Not even the latter third, which I liked a little better than the first two thirds, could save this book for me. 

So, obviously, just like my first two examples, this was another title I had suffered through reading. But this time, unlike before, I was mad about it. It was as if something had snapped in my brain and gotten me all adamant about wasting my time reading a book I wasn’t really enjoying at all. I was just so angry at myself all of a sudden, and annoyed, and very, very bothered.

From that moment on, I decided I would never put myself through the trial of spending time reading books I wasn’t liking all the way to their end ever again. Since that fateful day, I’ve DNF-ed more books than I ever thought possible (including this one, and this one, two titles I was hoping to love but didn’t even after 50 pages). And even though a part of me still feels a little guilty, a bigger part of me just feels a little bit freer because I can now read something that I actually want to read!

Obviously, the moral of the story is that you’re probably not going to like every book in the world, even if it’s a book in your favorite genre or by your favorite author or in your favorite series. It’s okay to have an opinion about something, and it’s even more okay to just simply say no, and move on to something else you’d enjoy more.

One would think that was all that I got out of my DNF experience, but one would be wrong. There’s more.

Reading takes up a good chunk of my time (almost 2 or 3 hours every day). Even though I’m technically commuting and can’t do anything else (save listening to music or sleeping or chatting), it’s still an investment of my time. I choose to read in my spare time, or commute time, whereas others would prioritize something else.

That being said, realizing I spend so much time reading made me realize that DNF is ideal because life’s too short. It’s not only too short to read books I don’t like. It’s also too short to constantly complain, or to laze about doing nothing about chasing my dreams. It’s also too short not to embrace the things I’m passionate about, too short not to do the things I’ve always wanted to do (and not keep putting them off), too short not to tell my loved ones that I love them whenever I can. 

Life’s too short, my friends, so make the most out of life. Enjoy it. Savor it. Choose happiness and hope and love and all the good stuff for yourself.

My DNF experience not only made me realize that DNF is not always a bad thing, even with the negative connotation it has. But, more than that, it’s challenged me to value MY time and MY choices and MY life.

(I just had to include the Britney Spears song "Lonely", because a lot of the sentiments in it are basically how I feel about DNF books. Also, it's just boppable. And yes, that's a word.)