Why You Should Track Time, Not Just Books

The Book I Never Finished, and Never Counted

I started reading Poor Charlie's Almanack before I tracked anything. I read it over what must have been weeks, and I liked it. Then another book got my attention, so I put it aside, and I haven't picked it back up since. I will (eventually) finish reading it.

What bothers me about that stretch: I have no idea how long I spent reading that book. Not roughly – at all. I put in the hours, but there's no record of them anywhere. The only thing left over from all that reading is one word attached to the title: unfinished.

That's the issue with counting finished books. A book count isn't a record of your reading. It's only a summary of what's done.

Poor Charlie's Almanack

by Charles T. Munger

Munger's talks and mental models, collected.

Est. read: 8h 58 min

Get your reading estimate →

What "Books Finished" Can't See

It's simple: your book count goes up when you actually finish a book. Completion is the only thing measured. Everything between the first page and the last stays invisible, and a 700-page classic adds the same +1 to your total as a 150-page novella.

So look at what falls through. Books that stall (like Poor Charlie's Almanack did for me) you'll come back to, but until then, the count says you did nothing (How to Finish a Book You Keep Starting →). And books that are modular on purpose: The Almanack of Naval Ravikant is built to be opened and closed anywhere, and I keep reading it that way, every other month.

Also, the rereads that might go unnoticed in your yearly number. A second pass through a book you love is often better reading than the first, and they deserve more than being just another number to add to your total (Why Rereading Books Is Underrated →).

What Sessions Show Instead

Swap to a more granular unit and the blind spots disappear. Minutes count the stalled book, the modular one, the reread, and the five-minute night, because they record what you did. (What Counts as a Reading Session → goes over my definition of a session).

Then the data starts showing you things you didn't know or notice before. Two surfaced for me. First, my reading usually happens in two windows: a bit before sleep, and a bit before getting out of bed. I half-knew that. Seeing it in the log turned it into something to protect (and an actual habit →).

Second, my average session is about 21 minutes. That's a boring number, shorter than most people's commute. But still, it got me to 24 finished books by the end of July this year, against my 18-book goal for the full year. I only found out because something was actually measuring it in the background.

Sessions also stack. Days with a session in them become a streak, which is consistency you can see and defend (What Is a Reading Streak →).

How to Track Time Without It Being a Chore

An objection you might have is that logging is work. That's fair, and it's specifically an objection to logs. Writing down what you read (and when) is a task you perform after reading, when the book is closed, you may be tired, and about to go to sleep. Of course it feels like a hassle.

A timer is different because it runs while you read. One tap as you open the book, one when you stop. Nothing to recall or reconstruct later: the session is captured as it happens. That's why I built ReadingHabit around a reading-session timer instead of a simple log.

Another objection might be that you have to remember to start that timer. For me, connecting the habit to my existing cue helped. My two reading windows are fixed, so the timer is attached to something I already do without having to make another decision. I'm not remembering to track my reading. The routine carries it.

And if you still want to count books, keep doing it – minutes can be converted. Your daily minutes and your real reading pace give you a great estimate of how many books you'll finish in a year. That makes for a more relevant target than choosing one simply because it sounds good (How Many Books Can You Read in a Year →).

Time Is the Real Metric

I'm going to pick up Poor Charlie's Almanack again. This time, the reading will exist – every session counted, whether I finish it this year, next year, or in pieces across both.

Count books if you like – it's a good trophy shelf. Just don't mistake them for the main metric. That's time, and it only exists if you track it.