"So, what are you reading?" Those five words begin so many conversations among our group. Five little words: "So, what are you reading?"
This comes along at a time when I'm sure you can find stories about the decline in reading in our country. I don't know how long I've been hearing about it; 20 years, 30 years? And, yes, it can be backed up by evidence. According to a Gallup survey from 2022, Americans are reading fewer books per year than ever before — a trend that happens every year. But I have a rosier feeling about reading. Everything has dropped steadily from a percentage basis. 90% of the country used to watch one television show, like All In the Family, and now the best shows would kill for 10%.
Anecdotally, it just seems to me that people are excited about reading; that there are conversations about books. A few weeks ago, I was honored to have been invited as a panelist to the Tucson Book Festival, one of the largest such festivals in the world. I was there to talk about my book The Real Hoosiers, still available everywhere, by the way. Over two days, 130,000 people attended the Tucson Book Festival. You heard that right: 130,000.
Every panel that my wife and I attended, including those in which I participated, had sold-out crowds. And while you can find depressing statistics about the decline in reading, you can also find one that says that book clubs are on the rise. The greatest compliment I got in Tucson was from a man who said that his sports book club has chosen my book as a monthly selection.
Plus, book clubs are being driven by young people. Gen Z is way in on book clubs. An anecdote from Tucson: I had a line of people waiting for me to sign their books, and by a line of people I mean seven people. Next to me was a young adult author who had, and I counted, 125 people in line.
The benefits of reading are well documented — reduces stress, improves sleep, enhances memory, and the most underrated benefit of reading is empathy. So, "what are you reading" becomes a joint conversation. And I had literally dozens of them in Tucson with writers famous and unknown; Scott Turow who wrote Presumed Innocent, Phillip Margolin who's 81 and still going strong after 1,000 books, a writer I had never heard of named William Kent Krueger who began his panel with his immortal line, "Hi, I'm William Kent Krueger but I write under the pen name of John Grisham."
I had a conversation with Rob Sheffield, a Rolling Stone writer, whose latest book is called Heartbreak is the National Anthem. It's about Taylor Swift. I respect Ms. Swift and the way she's handled herself in the fishbowl of a universe in which she lives, but I confess I couldn't identify a Taylor Swift song to save my life. But we found common ground talking about the high points and difficulties of covering famous people. "Taylor is to me what Michael Jordan was to you," Sheffield said. By the way, I asked him who he would compare Taylor to in my world; without hesitation, Sheffield said, "Springsteen. Not an amazing guitar player, not an amazing voice, but a strong work ethic, a great songwriter, and an absolute understanding of her audience."
I'm sure many of you have warm memories of reading to your children or grandchildren, and that's what's going on in my house right now. My wife and granddaughter are engaged in a joint reading session of The Ogress and the Orphans and The Girl Who Drank the Moon. In my wife's world, they've temporarily replaced Gwendolyn Brooks. The other day, a delightful text message ensued between them — "Nonni, I think the mayor's a dragon." Nonni had already figured that out. And I ask her if she misses giving up her own reading. She said, "I don't look on it as a sacrifice, this couldn't be more rewarding." And I can't tell you how rewarding it is to hear that.
