Can I Trust an Algorithm to Pick My Next Read?
Is data more reliable than intuition?
In the last few years, I’ve noticed a cultural shift toward keeping track.
First, it was the fitness trackers, which turned into watches that monitor and record your every move (or if you’re not moving, it will remind you to do so). Our cars track our driving habits, our social media apps listen to what we’re saying, then flood our feeds with advertisement for things it thinks we need.
My husband jumped on the bandwagon. He bought us a mattress pad that tracks our sleep cycles and sends us a report in the morning. (I disabled this feature on my side of the bed, but I do really love the temperature regulator of this device. There is nothing better than sliding into pre-warmed sheets).
We track our spending, our steps, our calories, our days. It makes me wonder what all this data really tells us. I don’t care much for this information. I prefer the wonder and surprise of not knowing everything.
I have a natural inclination toward curiosity. I like the idea of studying something new, of being a novice and absorbing knowledge perpetually. I appreciate being okay at many things, an expert at nothing. I can approach the day wide-eyed, wondering what I’ll learn and experience.
But I also have a competitive side. I want to do better, be better. Being confronted with statistics induces my desire to outperform. Tomorrow, I’ll walk more steps, this year, I’ll read more books. The striving is noble (I guess), but the pressure kills the enjoyment.
I must admit that my left-brain-self loves data. Especially charts. I like to condense information and see it statistically. I get almost giddy when the results surprise me. It reminds me of science class, when we’d develop an experimental hypothesis, then test whether we were correct in our assumptions. I’d get a bit of pleasure out of being wrong. Of watching something unexpected happen.
There are so few opportunities to be surprised anymore, with our scheduled days and alarms and alerts. Our inboxes are filled with notions of what we should be doing, an expectation of how our lives could be richer. Our news feeds are flooded with real-time information, leaving little room for pause, for discernment.
One habit I adopted a few years ago was to slow down my reading. Rather than race through a book to know what happens, I linger in the text. It’s my way of thinking more deeply about what’s happening in the story. I read fewer books these days than ever before. Statistically, I’d be regressing, if my goal were to read more. But that’s not my intention and there is no quantifiable way to capture what I’m actually achieving.
I’ve been using Goodreads to keep track of the books I’ve read (for my own benefit). I use it as an exercise in articulating my response to a text. The practice of writing a meaningful summary helps me think about my own written work. What do I want my reader to remember about my novel. What were the parts that resonated with her? How did she interpret it?
I don’t use Goodreads to determine what to read next. I don’t scroll through reader comments, and I put no stock into user ratings. I use Goodreads as a virtual bookshelf, a reminder of what I appreciated (or didn’t) about the books I’ve read.
But a reader friend turned me onto Story Graph, a platform dedicated to helping users track their reading and make book recommendations. When I googled it, my screen filled with vibrant pie charts and color-coded graphics, and I swooned. It was so shiny and exciting, the data categorized in succinct organization. I spent a few minutes exploring the site. I offered up my email address to be included on their newsletter. But ultimately concluded I had already invested so much time developing my Goodreads profile and I did not have the energy to start over.
A few days later, I clicked on a Story Graph marketing email with the headline “Import your Goodreads data with a simple upload” (Something like that). And so I did. It was a simple and seamless process. Next, Story Graph invited me to curate my reading tastes by selecting catchphrase tags and genre categories that I like and dislike. It gave me a selection of texts that I gave either a thumbs-up (I’d be willing to read it) or a thumbs-down (no, thanks).
As it generated my list of recommendations, I experienced that elated sense of wonder. What will it choose? Will it give me a list of the predictable and expected or will it offer me ideas for new reading experiences? Will it show me authors I know or ones I’ve yet to read?
The short answer: Both. It is, after all, an algorithm. As much as I’d like to imagine my favorite bookshop owner (hi, Sally!) walking me through the stacks and saying “oh, you’ll like this one,” the algo is merely using the information I gave it to generate parallel ideas. Still, I do not possess a universal book database in my head (can you imagine?!?), so my curiosity was titillated.
Up came thirty recommendations. There were a few I gave a thumbs-down: Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein (not interested, too long, too old), Tina Fey’s memoir (no disrespect to Ms. Fey, but I despise celebrity memoirs) and one of political nonfiction, which I do not have the spirit to read right now (or maybe ever).
When I finally looked at the compiled list, I was surprised to see both familiar and unfamiliar selections. I clicked on the synopses of the top five to see how the algo did. Here are my thoughts:
Black Cake, Charmaine Wilkerson
Story Graph’s matching tags: fiction, historical, literary
Because I liked: The Vanishing Half, Britt Bennett
Would I read this? YES
Why? Mystery and inheritance. Character driven, finding out who they are
Everyone In This Room Will Someday Be Dead, Emily Austin
Story Graph’s matching tags: fiction, contemporary, literary
Because I liked: Sorrow and Bliss, Meg Mason and Big Swiss, Jen Beagin
Would I read this? Maybe
Why? It’s billed as humorous with a self-deprecating narrator. But I’m not sure about the fixation on death
The Verifiers, Jane Pek
Story Graph’s matching tags: fiction, mystery, adventurous
No comparable titles
Would I read this? No
Why not? Though identified as a mystery, it centers on romance in the digital age, which seems fit for a demographic younger than me
The 71/2 Deaths of Evelyn Hardcastle, Stuart Turton
Because I’ve read Lucy Foley
Story Graph’s matching tags: fiction, mystery, thriller
Would I read this? No
Why not? It’s described as an Agatha Christie-style murder mystery, but it sounds like Groundhog Day to me
The Paris Apartment, Lucy Foley
Because I’ve read Lucy Foley
Story Graph’s matching tags: fiction, contemporary, mystery, thriller
Would I read this? Maybe
Why? I like Lucy Foley’s stories and this premise sounds different from her others. Perhaps an Audible listen.
There were other picks further down the list that I’d thumbs-up. Several of them were already on my TBR list.
When I indicated reading tastes in my Story Graph profile, I stayed unrestrictive. I only wouldn’t read political memoir or gore. I didn’t prefer Science Fiction, Fantasy, Erotica. I knew I’d end up with broad results, but Story Graph seemed to home in on my preference for fiction and mystery.
It was My Stats page that brought me the most joy, however. The first pie chart showed me my “Mood” reading preferences. Apparently, I like: Reflective, Emotional, Mysterious and Dark books. Story Graph knows me so well!
After all this, my plan is to continue using Goodreads to record my reading summaries. Then to include my completed reading into Story Graph, without the summary. It may be a bit duplicative, but I like what both platforms offer me. I don’t plan to evaluate my reading by any measure other than pure enjoyment. Still, I’m always curious about what I don’t know, and Story Graph may just point me in a new, exciting direction or introduce me to an author I wouldn’t otherwise find.
For sure, I’ll never again fret about what to read next!