Image

In my May review of Reading Through the Night, I reflected on my decision to review an already published book despite my attachment to this feature’s purpose: chiming in on soon-to-be-published titles. Two months ago, it felt hard to do that. My ego was very caught up in preserving my idea of Editor’s Bookshelf should be. This month, I feel a real shift in my way of thinking as I’ve decided not to review a book at all.

Yes, I had plans for a review. I’d even picked something out: Tanya Zabinski’s Peace, Love, Action!, which, at 120 densely packed pages, wound up being more book than I expected of a children’s title, and more than I’d allotted time for. Deciding not to write a review got me reflecting on why I committed reviewing books in the first place, and what role reading is playing in my life right now. In lieu of a rushed review, I’ve decided to share some of these thoughts instead.

Why Review

Simply put, as Erick and I worked together to spread the word about Iphelia: Awakening the Gift of Feeling, we spent considerable energy soliciting reviews from dedicated readers. I learned that reviews matter and it’s hard for writers, publishers, and editors to get them. We reached out to readers via email, Instagram, and Goodreads. We got some amazing responses from eager readers and both the “OG” and children’s editions of the book have received some thoughtful reviews. That said, more of our invitations to review free advance reading copies went unanswered.

There’s an assumption that people love to share their opinions on the internet, and in some ways, this is true. If you engage in social media, you see hundreds, if not thousands, of opinions every day. But how many people love to read full-length books—not just memes or Facebook captions—and are willing and able to craft and post reviews about them? It’s time-consuming and less “clicky” than sharing on social media. In short, I realized reviewing books is a service, and one I am willing and able to do thanks to a love of reading, a need for solitude, and plenty of free time. If reviewing feels right for you, check out NetGalley, or contact us for a digital review copy of Iphelia: Awakening the Gift of Feeling.

What I’m Reading

As a full-time editor, I read all day for work, but beyond that, I’ve had the pleasure of reading for a study group that meets in person once a week to discuss Clarissa Pinkola Estés’ Women who Run with the Wolves. If you want to “get into” reading, I strongly recommend this. The accountability and lively discussions on topics I care about light up my week. I’ve also started reading 12-step material as I’m trying participation in 12-step meetings on for size. If you’re apprehensive about 12-step programs but open to inspirational literature, pick a page of The Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous and see how it resonates with you. And keep in mind that 12-step groups go beyond AA and NA.

Finally, I read a composter manual. Yes—I started composting this month, which, like book groups and 12-step meetings, is new for me. It’s keeping me inspired, accountable, awestruck, and disciplined, and with those feelings in mind, I’m looking forward to whatever books, words, and messages come my way.

Editor’s Bookshelf is a regular review of soon-to-be-released books that, in the spirit of Iphelia, asks important questions about how the written word—and in some cases, imagery—are used to help readers reconnect with their feelings, themselves, each other, and the world around them.


Iphelia’s editor, Linsey Stevens, answers these questions—chiming in on who will be most captivated by each book’s contents and how it invites readers to return to a heart-centered way of being.

For more on Iphelia: Awakening the Gift of Feeling, visit our book page.

print
Subscribe to the Iphelia Newsletter

Subscribe to the Iphelia Newsletter

Join our mailing list to receive the latest news and updates from Iphelia.

Thank you for subscribing. Please check your email for a verification message and click the confirmation link to complete the process.

Pin It on Pinterest