on reading one’s own books

I’m halfway through Prince of Networks now. This being the fourth time I’ve done this, I can now safely say that there is a sort of mental routine, though it may not work the same way for everyone.

Receiving the printed version of a book one has written oneself is of course always a great pleasure. Finally, a tangible product in exchange for hundreds of hours of effort, usually stretching over a period of at least several years.

Reading the book, however, is not something I find immediately pleasurable. In part, this is because I have already reread or modified every one of these sentences dozens of times by now, and hence it all sounds like half-nonsense in my mind, or like some sort of phonetic stew. But in part it’s also because, by the time the book actually appears, you’ll have moved at least a half-step further, and there will be many possible improvements and simplifications that you can already spot.

As already stated, I usually do a quick immediate read of the book upon publication, especially looking out for the inevitable typographical errors or weird grammar or word choice that might possibly be changed in future printings. (Until you actually write a book, it’s easy to be shocked that a published book could contain any errors at all. But just wait and see. It’s impossible to eradicate all of them, no matter how many editors are helping you. I think Tool-Being contains around 45 typos.)

Once the books are a few years old, I wouldn’t say that I go back and read them cover to cover. But I do flip through them occasionally, or at least see them cited by others. And that’s when it becomes pleasurable… After you forget what it felt like to write a certain paragraph because it’s been so long ago, you can stumble across it later and smile delightedly and say “hey, that’s really good. Nice.”

My other favorite experience with older writings is following along with one of my own arguments, and thinking “but that’s weak, because I can already think of a counter-argument,” but then the counter-argument is immediately demolished in the next sentence.

However, it is generally quite a rare experience to reread any of my own work, and I don’t think that’s atypical, based on the informal queries I’ve made.

One other point… Though reading the actual book can feel a little bit stale, it is a cakewalk comparing to reading page proofs, which is really just about the most agonizing experience on earth. Most people I know have to go on a three-day vacation after correcting their own page proofs, or even treat themselves to some unusual reward, because that’s the stage at which your own words are most likely to look like sheer nonsense– and worst of all, it’s too late to change them very much.