The first time I read Kate Chopin’s The Awakening, I was a freshman in university reading a paperback that was in fairly decent condition considering it had probably belonged to at least a dozen people before me. This time I read the Kindle version, and when I looked back at the passages I had highlighted, I was surprised to discover that this one appears twice in the text—and I had noted it both times.

The voice of the sea is seductive; never ceasing, whispering, clamoring, murmuring, inviting the soul to wander for a spell in abysses of solitude; to lose itself in mazes of inward contemplation.

The first is when Mrs. Pontellier’s awakening begins and the quote continues thus:

The voice of the sea speaks to the soul. The touch of the sea is sensuous, enfolding the body in its soft, close embrace.

The second time these lines appear is just before the end of the story. The words that follow speak of what is to come while also calling to mind the scene where Mademoiselle Reisz compares Edna’s shoulder blades to wings, checking to see if they are strong enough to “soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice”:

All along the white beach, up and down, there was no living thing in sight. A bird with a broken wing was beating the air above, reeling, fluttering, circling disabled down, down into the water.

I don’t like to physically mark up my books when reading (which led to me sorting through piles of cheap, used student editions to find one without commentary in its pages), so I have to wonder: would I have noticed the symmetry with which Chopin begins and ends Edna’s journey if I hadn’t been using an e-reader? Furthermore, what does that say about me as a reader? I know that I read quickly, which can be both a blessing and a curse. I often have to force myself to slow down or even re-read passages to fully take in the language and balance and subtext. I was clearly moved each time I read those lines, but seeing the two passages electronically highlighted makes me wonder what I’m missing in the absence of close reading—and if my Kindle is helping or hindering my desire to get more out of each read.

I’ve been thinking more and more lately about the ways people read—partly because of the continuing conversations around e-publishing / e-readers / e-books, and partly because I realized the other day that my husband and I have completely different reading habits.

To be fair, I knew that he was one of those “weird” people who doesn’t re-read books. The only time I consciously don’t re-read a book is when I hated it upon finishing…and even then, I’m likely to give it another try after a handful of years have passed. But he rarely re-reads books, and this boggles my mind. What about all the things you might miss the first time around? What about that chance at a different experience with a book, or a deeper understanding of character motivations? I love seeing what I discover in a second (or third or fourth) reading, but for him, once is enough.

This I knew. But this past weekend we got into a debate about the number of books read at a time. He will choose one book and devote himself to it entirely until he’s read the very last word. I tend to have a few books that I’m reading at one time. Sometimes I’ll read a book from cover to cover in one sitting because it’s just that good. But usually my books fall into categories like my “just before bed” book, or my “read it in snatches of time like when I’m waiting for a coffee date to show up” book. Sometimes I feel like reading a short story and other times I feel like reading a novel. So I pick and choose depending on my mood.

And this is why my husband now considers me one of those “weird” people who doesn’t read one book at a time. His argument is that I am losing out on the experience that comes from a one book commitment, that something is lost in the time I spend fraternizing with other books. I’d never given it much thought before, if there was value in book monogamy. But the back and forth debate got me wondering about the reading habits of others. So please share—how many books do you read at a time? Do you re-read books? What are your reading habits?

I am the kind of person who likes to make detailed lists. The kind of person who likes to organize via coordinated calendars, Excel files, and hard copies. The kind of person who likes to ponder elaborate “what if” scenarios as if I can prepare for the unknown. I am a planner. But while I tend towards stress when I don’t have a plan, I am getting better at being okay without one. And for that, I am thankful.

from thxthxthx, a daily exercise in gratitude by Leah Dieterich