What kind of a reader are you?

If you aren’t overly fond of the book you’re reading, do you continue to the end anyway? Or do you quickly put it down – without a single twinge of guilt – and pick up another?

Only recently did it occur to me that there might be various schools of thought* on how to react following the realization that a book isn’t as good as expected.

The revelation came while listening to Joe Hill, author of the best-selling “Heart-Shaped Box” and the new “20th Century Ghosts,” who told readers at my local independent bookstore that he nearly always reads a book to the end – even if he doesn’t like it that much. His wife, however, quickly decides whether a book is for her and throws it aside if it’s not.

In my house, it’s my husband who begins and rejects books so quickly that I’m never sure what he’s reading. I usually keep plugging along unless the writing is beyond wretched or the plot is so convoluted that I’d rather poke myself in the eye than try to figure it out.

After listening to Joe Hill**, I wonder if how we pursue our reading is merely habit or something deeper, like a personality trait that someone should be studying. (I'm sure hoping it's not one of those things that requires therapy, though.)

I hadn’t thought much about it before, but I believe I keep reading because I’m afraid I’ll miss something good that might be still to come. Or maybe I just want to give my fellow writers the benefit of the doubt that they’ll eventually enlighten and/or entertain me.

After all, it takes a tremendous amount of time and effort to write a book and get it published. If a book makes it to the store shelves, it must have some redeeming value, right? Unfortunately, I’m often disappointed in my quest to find it. Aren't you?

I recently learned that 411,000 new book titles were sold in America last year. That’s an average of 1,126 new books published every single day. Those numbers alone should be enough to convince us a) we can’t read every new book and b) odds are not all of them are great – and maybe a whole lot aren’t even good. How to find the best ones is a topic for another day, however.

In the meantime, I’ve decided to try to train myself to quickly put down bad books and only keep reading the really good ones. Life’s just too short to read mediocre books. Don’t you agree?

After posting this blog, I received e-mails from people who say that if they're not sure they like a book, they read the ending and then decide whether to go back and read the entire thing. But why read the book if you already know how it ends? I suppose some of us enjoy the journey while others focus on finishing. And I suspect there are as many ways to read a book as there are to write one. Maybe that's what helps make reading so satisfying to so many people.

(**Joe Hill, by the way, uses the inside blank covers of the book he’s reading to make his own scorecards of Red Sox games. Like his father, Stephen King, he is a Sox fan and also brings along the book he’s currently reading to enjoy during breaks in the game.)

What mood are you in today?

If you've ever dreamed of having a personal librarian or favorite bookstore employee available round-the-clock to recommend great books to read, you’ll love “1001 Books for Every Mood” by Hallie Ephron.

Unfortunately, my moods change so often there’s barely time to read one chapter of any book, never mind the entire thing. But with 80 separate categories of must-reads, this guidebook offers an abundance of choices no matter how you’re feeling.

The listings begin with “For a Good Laugh” and end with “To Reinvent Yourself.” In between are sections like “for a Walk on the Wild Side,” “Hug Your Dog” and “to Suffer (No) Fools.” Reading the categories might almost be as much fun as reading the books.

There are even recommendations for when you want to “wallow in the slough of despond.” Think of books like: The Bell Jar, The Heart is a Lonely Hunter and Miss Lonelyhearts. (And, just for fun, see how people react when you tell them to leave you alone so you can “wallow in the slough of despond.”)

Hallie, who’s also a terrific mystery writer when she’s not playing personal librarian, provides a brief description of each book and rates it by literary merit on a scale of 1 to 4. She adds a symbol if the book is provocative, influential, inspirational, humorous, brainy, easy reader, page turner, challenging, bathroom book, family friendly and/or been made into a movie. Scattered throughout the book are examples of great opening lines and characters, and other trivia of interest to book lovers.

But I do think she might be missing some categories. For example, I’d like to see one for “my teenager has a more active social life than I do.” I suppose “To be Afraid, Be Very Afraid,” “To Get Philosophical” and “For Outrage” are somewhat appropriate, though.

I also searched for books to read for when “my recent college graduate is living at home and doesn’t want to be.” The most applicable options seem to be “To Survive,” “For a Kick in the Pants” and “For Heartburn.”

And what about a category for those days (rare I hope) when you might not be quite as fond of the special person in your life as you should be? There's “To Trip Down Memory Lane,” “For Romance” or “To Love Again.”

These are all great. But quite frankly, there are still days when “to Run Away from Home” and “To Join the Circus” seem most appealing. Fortunately, “1001 Books for Every Mood” offers a myriad of ways to escape without leaving your favorite reading chair.

PS --Some of you may have expected me to blog this week about the GOP VP choice, which is a fascinating subject to me as a political junkie and as a woman, but I don't want to offend anyone -- yet. :)