For the first time this year, I decided to try to keep track of all the books I read. In the past, I have made half-assed attempts to chronicle my reading in my journals, but never really manage to keep the effort accurate. This year, I’m a little more serious about it all. I created a notebook to keep on my night stand to chronicle every book I finish this year.

Finishing, as opposed to start or buy, is a huge distinction here. My attention span and ability to stay focused on one topic long enough to finish a book seems to be at an all time low. I think that is part of why I started this little note book and list. Perhaps, I am hoping that adding a title to the list will give me motivation to finish what I start.

“Reading” also has a pretty expansive definition for me. I don’t care about format, reading is any engagement with a story, fiction or non-fiction, written by someone else. That means I could have read a physical book, an e-book, or listened to an audio version of the text. It all counts as reading for me. As I try to keep myself in the habit of posting, I will periodically share something from my list here.

The first book I finished this year was Solvej Balle’s On the Calculation of Volume Book I, translated by Barbara Haveland. Balle is an a Danish author writing a book set in France that at first sounds like a re-hash of the Bill Murray film Groundhog Day. Tara Settler, an antique book seller, becomes trapped in a repeating November 18th. Book one of this series follows her attempts to understand and cope with her new reality. (I am only part way through Book II, so I can’t actually let you know how this works out.)

Given how little I enjoyed the film Groundhog Day, how much I enjoyed On the Calculation of Volume surprised me a bit. Comparing the two works isn’t really possible. Their different genres, purposes, and universe’s far outweigh any similarity in their premise. On the Calculation of Volume is a quiet and subtle exploration of time, self, and relationships. Perhaps I love it most, though, because as Tara recounts how she started chronicling her experience, counting and describing the nuances of her different November 18ths, she says, “Maybe there’s healing in sentences.”

Perhaps that is what I am attempting to do as I tear through books this year – allowing the sentences other people write to make their imprint on me, to heal me through recognition. Perhaps, even more strongly, that is what I am attempting to do here, to heal through my own sentences.