Minnie's Fiction Addiction

This year, I’ve set myself a challenge: to read longer books. Not the quick 200-page reads that slip by in a weekend, but the substantial, immersive novels that demand weeks of commitment and reward you with entire worlds.

The Journey So Far

I’ve already made progress on this goal, diving into two hefty volumes that have shaped my reading year.

The Pillars of the Earth by Ken Follett transported me to 12th-century England, where I spent hundreds of pages watching the construction of a cathedral unfold against a backdrop of political intrigue, religious conflict, and deeply human stories. The book’s length wasn’t a burden—it was necessary to fully inhabit that medieval world, to understand the decades-long dedication required to build something magnificent from stone and faith.

King Sorrow showed me another facet of what long-form storytelling can achieve. Where Follett sprawls across time and space, this book uses its length differently, allowing for the kind of emotional depth and character development that shorter works simply can’t accommodate.

Why Long Books?

There’s something uniquely satisfying about committing to a longer book. In our age of quick content and endless scrolling, settling in with a 600, 800, or 1,000-page novel feels almost countercultural. It’s a declaration that some stories deserve extended attention, that complexity and depth take time to unfold properly.

Long books also change how you read. You don’t finish them in a burst of momentum. Instead, they become companions over weeks or months. You carry their characters and questions with you between reading sessions. They inhabit your thoughts during your commute, your lunch break, your pre-sleep wind-down.

The Challenge Ahead

The beauty of this goal is that it’s not about quantity. I’m not racing to finish as many books as possible. Instead, I’m giving myself permission to slow down, to savor, to let stories sprawl and breathe.

Each long book is its own small achievement. And with two already completed, I’m discovering that the length isn’t an obstacle—it’s the point. These are the books that stay with you, the ones whose worlds feel as real as the one you inhabit when you finally close the cover.

Here’s to more cathedral-building, more emotional excavation, and more stories that earn every one of their pages.