Reading a book outside sucks

I’m an indoor cat. Always have been. Despite growing up in the crunchier part of the country, I usually wasn’t raring to go climb a rock or ride a bike or fish a fish like most of my peers. There are people who need to be outside a set amount of time like a border collie, and I’ve never been one of them. That’s fine! But I’m also aware that being outside is good for you, so a couple times I’ve thought: what if I just bring my book outside? It always looks so idyllic, and I’m doing the thing I would be doing inside anyway, but outside! And every time I’ve given up. Something was always wrong: it was the temperature, or the surface I was sitting on, or the sun. But in my myopia, I just assumed that if I tried again on a day with a more agreeable temperature or if I just brought a cushion with me, I too could enjoy the benefits of Outside while doing my indoor activity.

A couple months ago, I finally had my chance. I was taking a solo vacation where I didn’t have to worry about anyone but myself. The weather was perfect: not supposed to be windy, not blindingly sunny, a cool-but-not-too-cool temperature. I had a clear schedule. Private hotel courtyard with cushioned chairs. No ambient noise even though the rest of the city was less than 200 meters away. There was even a little glass house-like enclosure; I was as close to being inside as humanly possible while still technically being outside. And I lasted less than an hour.

I felt a little bad at first for failing to enjoy being outside in the best possible circumstances, but that self-pity swiftly fell away to a simple, long-overdue revelation. There is no magic combination of wind, sunlight, and temperature that will make reading outside enjoyable because, fundamentally, reading outside sucks.

We’ve all seen the moodboards with some woman in a flowy dress reading in a flower field, or an academic type catching some chapters before class like the person in this post’s header image. But I will bet right now that as soon as the photographer said they were done for the day, that book probably got chucked right into the grass. First of all, that tree bark was absolutely digging into her back and stabbing her every time she tried to adjust her position. Her butt definitely isn’t faring much better—the ground is hard, people!! However much padding you think you need, you need more. And this is all to say nothing of the wind and light. Even if the air is completely still, as soon as you set the book down to get a drink of water or something, the breeze kicks in and BOOM you’ve lost your place. And maybe this is just a problem with me because I’m pretty light-sensitive, but the lighting is never right for reading a book outside either. No matter how cloudy it is, for some reason the second I step outside it’s always too bright to stare at a white page (which reflects light!) without squinting. And I’m not wearing sunglasses to look at something inches away from my face.

That day in the hotel courtyard, the main problems were the breeze, which somehow found its way into the glass enclosure, and the light, which in fairness was less surprising. I could have closed the door, but then I’d just be inside again, which would have defeated the entire purpose. But sometimes a purpose needs to be defeated if it’s a purpose that makes no goddamn sense. Not everything needs to be mixed. You don’t need rum in every coke, not every dog needs to be part poodle, and outside and inside activities do not need to meet in unholy matrimony of eye strain and a sore ass.

The propaganda runs so deep that somehow we’ve all accepted the idea of a beach read. You guys are reading a book not only outside but on a beach? I am never, EVER relaxed enough on a beach to lose myself in a fantasy world. I’m just trying to keep my towel from flying away and the sun from giving me cancer! I’ll even say it: reading on a beach might be about as impractical as sex on a beach. Sand in inconvenient crevices. Extremely difficult to find a comfortable position. Escapism thwarted by gritty reality.

Outside is simply not for reading. If you’re going to be outside, fucking commit. Go on a hike or something.