Every year, as I prepare to leave on my favorite two-week long summer vacation, the biggest challenge I face is choosing the books I’ll bring. Part of what makes this vacation special is having a lot of time to read in my favorite environment, that is, the beach. This summer I probably took along my largest number of books ever on a trip. One of them was a novel called ”Jesus Kid,” by Lourenço Mutarelli, a Brazilian writer that explores the absurd in the human condition. I have created the tradition of reading only one Mutarelli a year, in the summer, because I find his writings an incredible treat. Another book was a Star Wars novel called ”Ronin,” by Emma Mieko Candon, which I had bought months in advance and was very excited to read. How could I not love it? It brought together Japanese culture and the Star Wars universe, two subjects on which I have a lot of interest.

On my second day on the beach, I broke out the Mutarelli and devoured it in a day. Even though I knew it was a short novel that I could read easily (it is in Portuguese, my native language), I felt a bit pumped, excited that I was possibly going to get through all the books I had brought. The next day, I jumped into Ronin, which started out just perfectly for me. I read about 75 pages and felt like I was on a good roll that I was going to keep. It just so happened that after that great beginning, it started to get less and less exciting and I found myself having to muster energy to plod though it. This lasted almost two weeks and I brought it home only three-quarters read. I insisted for a couple more days, because I was refusing to be defeated by a book – the truth is that I have finished most of the books I have ever started and can count on the fingers of one hand those on which I gave up.

Reflecting on this experience, I learned a good lesson about myself: I need to become able to accept giving up something that is not working for me. So ”Ronin” didn’t work and I could have figured out it by the second or third day, but I thought I had to like it because I wanted to like it. I didn’t and it was clear I wouldn’t, but maybe in the name of showing grit, maybe in the name of getting to know more about the Star Wars universe, or for some other reason I found justifiable, I decided I just had to keep going. Today, though, I realized that the book I was forcing myself to read was plugging up the pipeline; there are many other unread titles in my library that I am sure will get me fired up and that will be rewarding to me. No more ”Ronin,” not even quickly leafing through it to see how it ends. I don’t enjoy it (the writing style is not for me) and I don’t need it, so onto something entirely different that may put a smile on my face.

As I was deciding to quit this book, I thought that it would sit there on the shelf to remind me of how I was defeated. With a shift of perspective, though, I realized that it could instead be seen as the badge of an achievement unlocked: rationality overcoming instinctive hard headedness. Isn’t that something to feel good about?