Hey Reader, Ever feel like you're reading wrong? Like you're not highlighting enough, not taking the right kind of notes, or not retaining enough? Maybe you’ve watched one too many videos on how to optimize your reading, and now you’re low-key convinced you need a second brain just to track your thoughts. Yeah. Let’s shut that down. There is no right way to read. And yet, the internet is full of advice that insists otherwise. The perfect note-taking system. The best way to absorb information. The correct method for getting the most out of books. But the more rigid the structure, the faster it kills the joy of reading. Lately, I’ve been breaking all the so-called rules. Reading multiple books at once. Taking voice notes instead of writing. Highlighting randomly—or not at all. And weirdly? I feel more engaged with what I’m reading than when I tried to follow a system. We’re often told that “serious” reading is about knowing more—retaining facts, gathering insights, and all that. Blah blah blah. This can be true, but not always. I’ve learned over the past couple of years that one of the most overlooked gifts reading gives us is in the not knowing. Great stories teach us to sit with uncertainty, to enjoy or tolerate the unexpected. Read Yourself Happy by Daisy Buchanan puts it perfectly. (Thanks for the recommendation, Jennifer! 🙏🏻) Buchanan writes: "...the best books encourage me to embrace uncertainty. I want to read a story because I don't know what's going to happen or how it will end. The more I enjoy the uncertainty of stories, the better I get at tolerating uncertainty in life." We don’t read novels to extract perfect knowledge—we read them because they let us live in uncertainty, experience surprises, and follow twists we could never predict. I’m certain that as often as not, the best way to read isn’t to control the process—but to let go and see where the story takes us. Reading doesn’t have to be productive to be valuable. Sometimes the best part of reading is about being with a book and the characters. Experiencing the scenery and the era. Letting the unexpected wash over you, taking you somewhere new to sit with you in the moments you need them most? So here’s your permission slip: You don’t need to extract something from every book. The act of reading itself? It’s enough. You don’t need a note-taking strategy. You don’t need to finish every book. You don’t need to track, optimize, or justify your reading. Just read however makes you happiest. What's a reading "rule" you wish you could break? Hit reply and tell me. 😎 Meantime, read something today that makes you smile, Reader! —Tracy P. S. If you’re enjoying Unhustled and want to support it, you can leave a little something in the tip jar—no pressure, just appreciation. If you're enjoying Unhustled, you might also like: As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases made through the links in this newsletter. This doesn't affect your purchase price, but it helps support my work. Thank you! |
This isn’t BookTok. It’s not productivity porn. It’s just one reader—thinking out loud about what stories do to us. Unhustled is where you go when you want the reading part of your life to feel like yours again.
Hey Reader, If you watched any U.S. sporting events this past weekend, you probably caught at least one player pausing—mic in their face—to say something solemn about Memorial Day. I believe they meant it. I also think they were cornered by the moment. What do you say, when someone asks you to sum up war, sacrifice, or national grief in a single soundbite? For what it’s worth: Memorial Day honors U.S. military members who died in service. But that includes more than combat casualties. It...
Hey Reader, Memorial Day weekend always sneaks up on me. Suddenly everyone’s posting their “summer reading lists,” full of trending titles and perfect poolside pics. I’ve read a lot of books in the past 18 months. Some were quick escapes. Others left a weird aftertaste. The ones I still think about? They weren’t optimized for speed or aesthetics. They were the ones that kept circling back—through conversations, memories, and moments of unexpected emotion. So if you’re building a summer...
Hey Reader, My mom and I have spent a glorious week at Orange Beach, Alabama. Before we came down, I was deep into a WWII spy novel. It was smart, tense, and featured female secretary-spies. Immersive. BFF-recommended. I could have finished by now if I hadn’t hit pause. Once we got to the land of sugar sand for a week, I wanted anything but depth, despair, or deep thoughts. My stretch goals for the week: A shrimp po’boy the size of three copies of Robert Caro’s The Power Broker placed...