Reading Experiences vs Star Ratings
A new way of framing how we read books by thinking of them as experiences instead of star-ratings.
I’ve been thinking about reading experiences as a way of framing my reading life. It came about after listening to a discussion between two Substack writers, Petya K. Grady and Sara Hildreth, during which this topic came up. Their discussion was about the end-of-year anxiety that we can often feel, not only about books, but about all the things we planned to achieve but haven’t, and how to make the holiday season perfect while still ticking off the goals.
As I was writing my Morning Pages yesterday, I found myself starting a list of books I would choose as milestones in my life. I thought I’d flesh that out into an essay. It feels meaningful and it illustrates my lifelong passion for reading.
As I started making the list, it grew arms and legs and I struggled to write down some of the titles fast enough before they flitted back out my ADHD-addled brain!
Childhood
The Enchanted Wood, Enid Blyton
What child born in the 1970s hasn’t read at least one Enid Blyton book? One of my earliest bookish memories is of The Enchanted Wood (1939) and The Adventures of the Wishing Chair (1937). These books are set in a magical world and could well have been my gateway into fantasy. I bought both books from James Young’s newsagents in Prestwick for 50p each. I would’ve been around six years old. They were on a spinning display stand. How do I remember that?
The Marvelous Land of Oz, L. Frank Baum
The experience that has remained in my memory after all these years is of eating bread and cheese after reading about the main character, Tip, eating crusts of bread and cheese on his journey.
Alfred Hitchcock and the Three Investigators
I read these books obsessively when I was in primary school, aged around eight. I’d get them from the library and swap them between two of my friends. And how’s this for a bookish experience—the three of us started our own Three Investigators club one summer and would meet in my garden shed. We made our own business cards—basically copied from the books, but with our own names—and would look for mysteries to solve, aided by jugs of diluting juice, custard creams and bourbon biscuits that my mum would bring us.
Our only mystery-related behaviour wasn’t so much solving one as setting one for others to solve. There was an old, abandoned fire engine in the station yard and we sprinkled some fake blood around the driver’s seat and dashboard to make it look like something had gone down.
The Book of Three, Lloyd Alexander
This was read to us by my primary six teacher, Mrs Welsh. It’s the first book in the Chronicles of Prydain and features a baddie called The Horned King and his army of cauldron-born. I was absolutely captivated by this book and remember drawing pictures of the Horned King, based on the cover art. I’m keen to revisit the series now and bought the full set last year. The second in the series is The Black Cauldron, which Disney went on to murder in a dreadful adaptation. Avoid!
The Forest of Doom, Ian Livingston
I loved the Fighting Fantasy series of choose-your-own-adventure books. The Forest of Doom (1983) was the first one I bought and I went on to buy quite a few more. My favourite was The City of Thieves. It was a bonding experience, as my group of friends would swap books or go through them together. Good times.
The Dark is Rising, Susan Cooper
I remember reading this in English class in secondary school, aged 12 or 13. It was imprinted strongly on my memory: sitting in class in midwinter, in an old sandstone building with high ceilings and ancient radiators and pipes throwing out sweltering heat. I can almost smell the steam rising off our wet jackets and the deodorant of adolescence. It was intoxicating.
The Dark is Rising is the second book of five in the sequence and features some elemental fantasy scenes with strong winter vibes. I recorded a review of the series this year:
The Eye of the Tiger, Wilbur Smith
I delivered papers in the mornings before secondary school and would usually listen to that week’s Top 40 charts, recorded onto cassette tape from the Sunday night chart show on BBC Radio 1. My dad got The Eye of the Tiger audiobook on tape from the local library, so I ditched the tunes in its favour. And what a thrill it was! I’d have been around 14. It’s the first audiobook I remember listening to and I’ve been an audiobook listener ever since. I listened to it again last year for nostalgia reasons. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the Nigel Davenport narration.
Young Adult
Most of my reading experiences in adolescence are from my time in the Army. I joined at 16, had an accident at 17 and then spent many months in hospital and recovery.
The Dark Half, Stephen King
This was my first experience of Stephen King. I was 18 and read it in my single bunk at the Army Apprentices’ College in Harrogate. I got the bunk because it was empty and I was on crutches from my accident. I guess the squadron OC took pity on me. I remember reading the book while walking to the cookhouse for dinner, my first literal experience of a book that I couldn’t put down. I’ve read a lot of King since then and am sure I’ll read a lot more!
Scions of Shannara, Terry Brooks
I was reading this as I watched the clock turn over to midnight on my 19th birthday, in that same single bunk in Harrogate. Of all the Shannara books I read, this remains my favourite, possibly because of that memory, but also because of the cover art of the edition I had. It was designed by Keith Parkinson.
The Ruby Knight, David Eddings
Another army imprint, this time of being in a military hospital in Catterick Garrison while attending my discharge meeting. I got booted out on medical grounds after just four years’ service.
Mirror of Her Dreams, Stephen Donaldson
I read this in a military hospital in Woolwich, which was my home for several months while I went through multiple surgeries. It may sound weird, but I have very fond memories of my time in that hospital. I read this book and its sequel, A Man Rides Through, during that stay.
Seeress of Kell, David Eddings
I read this in my second year at the Army Apprentices’ College. I remember going into Harrogate to buy it on the day of its release. The wait seemed interminable. It was prophesied that one character would die, and we had bets among my group of friends about who it would be. I don’t remember whether I won the bet, but I do remember which character it was. I read the book in a single day.
Lord of the Rings, BBC Radio Adaptation by Brian Sibley
I got the box set of thirteen cassette tapes of this dramatised version of The Lord of the Rings and absolutely loved it. We used to put it on late at night with the lights out and listen to it while passing joints. I can still hear the Orc commander’s dark voice shouting, ‘Again!’ as they swing a battering ram at the door of Balin’s tomb.
I also read the book in the back seat of my parents’ car while they drove me to visit my solicitor in Catterick. I have an urge to read it again, so I’ll consider adding it to my 2026 list.
London Fields, Martin Amis
I read this on holiday on Arran in the mid-90s and remember quite vividly a feeling of bliss and wonder upon finishing it. I now live on Arran and reread the book this year. I enjoyed it in a different way this time around.
A Disaffection, James Kelman
I read this during my year in Odesa, Ukraine, in the mid-90s. I borrowed it from the British Council Library without knowing anything about it, and it blew me away. It was a comfort to read a book in my own Scots dialect during what was a difficult year abroad. I reread it this year and might even have loved it more.
The Bone People, Keri Hulme
Another Odesa read. This was given to me by my girlfriend at the time, just before I left Scotland for Russia and Ukraine. Like London Fields and A Disaffection, it left me spellbound, with a feeling of connection to something bigger. I’ve since bought it again, but have yet to reread it. I hope to do so in 2026.
The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant, Stephen Donaldson
This is my favourite fantasy series, particularly the Second Chronicles. I loved nothing more than discussing these books in the pub with my pals when I first read them in the 90s. I reread Lord Foul’s Bane last year for a podcast with an old friend who’d never read fantasy before, and it reads like a book of its time. Trying to dissect what it was about these books—and this character—that captured me as a young man was fascinating. Those drunken conversations in the 90s, though, were quite something.
The Taming of the Shrew, Shakespeare
I read this in the grounds of Ely Cathedral one summer to prepare for going to see the play. It was the summer after I got home from Odesa, so just before my junior honours year at the University of St Andrews. I remember it being a hot summer and, at one point, I went inside the cathedral to read as it was much cooler inside. It remains the only Shakespeare I’ve read.
The Gap Cycle, Stephen Donaldson
I was also reading Donaldson’s Gap Cycle while I was in Ely that summer. The Taming of the Shrew was a quick read; the rest of my time was spent with this epic space opera. I thoroughly enjoyed it!
Adult
I’m setting the cut-off for young adult into adult quite late, because, looking back, it’s impossible to consider myself an adult until I finished my degree in 1998 at the age of 26. Even now, I sometimes have my doubts!
A lot of what I would consider reading experiences come from my love of audiobooks. A lot depends on where I was and what I was doing when I listened to a particular book. I love how audiobooks imprint on my memory in that way.
Kafka on the Shore, Haruki Murakami
A fine example of an audiobook imprint is standing on the beach in Lamlash and listening to the end of this book while the tide was right out. I love Murakami’s novels and it was the perfect setting to finish this one.
Assassin’s Apprentice, Robin Hobb
I met my wife at the University of Bradford, where we were both on the same Master’s programme. Her family lives in Cornwall and I’d gone with her in the summer to visit for the first time. I asked for a fantasy book recommendation in the local bookshop in her town and came out with The Farseer Trilogy. I remember sitting by the banks of the River Cam, engrossed in the scenes of Fitz and little Molly Nosebleed running around Buckkeep Town, when my girlfriend sneaked up on me and gave me a jolly old fright. That trilogy has become a firm favourite and gave me the seed of my philosophy of life, which continues to evolve. I intend to read the final trilogy in the Realm of the Elderlings series next year.
The Bourne Identity, Robert Ludlum
This reminds me of driving my daughter to nursery school in Luxembourg. I had the audiobook narrated by Michael Pritchard and listened to it mainly in the car. The quality was poor and the narration monotonous, but it left a strong impression, and I have quite an urge to listen to that recording again for nostalgic reasons.
I have another memory of finishing a Bourne book in Luxembourg on New Year’s Day, sitting on a bench where I’d pulled over on my way home from an AA meeting.
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire
Another audiobook imprint, this time of driving my daughter to the forest creche in Luxembourg. I listened to the Stephen Fry narration. Here’s my diary entry from November 2007:
Bloody brilliant. Seriously. I can see why people get hooked. The first was meh, the second, a bit better, the third, not too bad, but the fourth? That fight scene had me riveted to the steering wheel (I was in the car listening to Stephen Fry doing a bloody marvellous job I must say).
I’m into the fifth now and enjoying it too. Bring it on! Wheeee!
My daughter was way too young to get these books at the time, but I wasn’t!
The Master and Margarita, Mikhail Bulgakov
This experience is rather a sad one. I’d woken up in the middle of the night with a premonition that my mum had just died. She was in hospital and not doing well. I woke up to see a shimmering light in the corner of the bedroom and knew that I’d be getting a phone call soon, so I got up and came through to the living room with my book. And, sure enough, I got the call. I’m glad it was that book, as it’s a firm favourite and I’m about to lead a group through it on my Substack in January / February next year.
A Widow for One Year, John Irving
This was a gift from a friend as I was heading out to Russia with my girlfriend after we finished our Master’s degrees. Was it my first John Irving novel? I think it was. I’ve since read many others, including one I’ll be mentioning below. We were living in an apartment in Sochi and had jobs teaching English at a private school. It was the first time we’d lived together, besides sharing a single bed in the halls of residence at uni. I loved the novel and remember reading it in our flat on a Sunday afternoon in autumn while the rain—the likes of which I’d never seen in my life—came tumbling down outside.
The Last Chairlift, John Irving
Might as well get the other Irving novel in here. I was listening to The Last Chairlift while I was in the chair as Master of my local masonic lodge and I was driving around Argyll a lot to visit other lodges. One of the most beautiful places in the world is Glencoe, and I was driving through the mountains to visit Lodge Glencoe No 884 in my campervan with this novel playing as an audiobook. It was just getting dark and the mountains were snowcapped. It imprinted quite strongly. I’m expecting the same level of imprint from Sons of Darkness by Gourav Mohanty from my visit to the same lodge two weeks ago. It’s a bit too recent to have become a memory just yet. This novel is also responsible for my adding Moby-Dick to my TBR for 2025, though I’ll be bumping it forward to 2026.
The Golden Fool, Robin Hobb
This was another audiobook imprint as I was driving around Argyll to visit masonic lodges in the province. I was driving through Largs when I got to a big reveal in the novel, and I found myself recording a rather excited voice memo to a friend of mine who I know has read this series.
Hiking Imprints
I hike a lot on Arran and listen to audiobooks when I’m out. These are some imprints that have stuck in my mind from hikes.
Way of Kings, Brandon Sanderson
Specifically, the scene of Kaladin escaping from slavery while I walked down the Garbh Allt burn on the three beinns horseshoe. Also, the opening scene as I was going round the three beinns1 was powerful. I often struggle to start new books on audio. Not with this one, though! It must be one of the most memorable opening scenes ever.
The Great and Secret Show, Clive Barker
Hiking back down Glen Rosa and going from the Saddle up over North Goatfell2. And camping in Glen Rosa. This was a reread and an excellent hiking book.
Gnomon, Nick Harkaway
An outstanding book that I remember listening to as I went round the three beinns, particularly the shark scene as I walked back to the car along Glen Rosa with blistered feet and sore knees. I’d love to read this again as it’s a pure headfuck of a novel.
This Year
Yes, there have been some reading experiences this year that I’m sure I’ll cherish, not least of which are the ones I’ve led groups through on my Substack.
The White Guard, Mikhail Bulgakov
This is a book I avoided reading at university and so it had been on my shelf for over thirty years. Leading a group through it in October this year was a highly rewarding experience, and I’m very much looking forward to doing the same with The Master and Margarita next year.
Mrs Dalloway, Virginia Woolf
This was a surprise. Henry Eliot announced a special read-along on his Substack to celebrate Dallowday, a Wednesday in the middle of June. We were to read the novel in a single day, while Henry stoated around the various parts of London that featured in the novel and send us short video clips. It was a very enjoyable experience and good to read another book that I’d had on the shelf for over thirty years!
The Karamazov Brothers, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
I’d gone to the mainland to get my van repaired and so had a whole day to kill while it was in the garage. I decided to spend it in the Carnegie Library in Ayr, where I sat and read the whole Grand Inquisitor section, taking notes as I read.
Sons of Darkness, Gourav Mohanty
As I said above, I don't think this is recent enough to have been imprinted on my memory, but I know it will be. It was certainly an experience, particularly as every time I’ve been off the island in November and December, there have been ferry cancellations that meant longer drives after meetings at 11 p.m. and into the night. It’s an incredibly strong debut novel from Mohanty. If I had to pick a scene, it would be (no spoiler tags on Substack, so I won’t mention it) as I was driving along the A82 from Oban through Dumbarton to the Erskine Bridge about 1 a.m., only to discover that the Erskine Bridge was closed. Aaargh. So instead of a 1h20m drive to Claonaig and an early night in the camper, it was a 3h drive to Ardrossan, sustained by Sons of Darkness and Haribo Fangtastics. It’s a strong contender for my book of the year.
My thanks to Petya and Sara for this excellent way of framing what we read. I’d love to hear about some of your reading experiences, my dear readers.
Loved this reframing away from ratings to experiences. The sensory details (steam on jackets reading The Dark is Rising, driving through snowcapped Glencoe with The Last Chairlift) show how books imprint on specific moments way more than any 5-star system could capture. I've got a similiar thing with Murakami where Norwegian Wood is forever tied to a rainy week in Portland, even tho the book has nothign to do with rain or Portland.
After all, reading is an experiential, emotional,and sensory emersion between me and those lovely words collected on paper.