I’m going to do X, Y, and Z today, and that’s that. I’m a planner, organizer, and regulator. I like routine, and I have a hard time functioning when my ducks aren’t all in a row. Although I absolutely love spontaneity, it does not come naturally for me. So I linger in the moments when I’m compelled to do something out of the ordinary. With around 150 books on my to-read list, 40 or so of which I own and have piled up on my desk, I always pick up books that have been personally researched and recommended. Well, nearly always.
A few years ago, I purchased my first unplanned book, Something Missing: A Novel by Matthew Dicks, at the used book store. The book was was my favorite color, and the blurb on the back was intriguing – a career criminal with OCD tendencies steals small household items from the same people for years, completely undetected. I was sold. And the book was surprisingly good. It’s an easy read, smart with just enough witty humor to keep the reader continually entertained.
There’s something exciting about not knowing what to expect, not having any idea what may lie ahead, and being okay with the not knowing. And there’s both comfort and titillation in taking a small risk, and in having things turn out better than you had expected. A new book is a small and simplistic example, but an effective one.

A few weeks ago I picked up yet another “mystery” book from my favorite independent bookstore. Broken by Karin Fossum, was discreetly tucked away at the bottom of the staff recommendations shelf. I was drawn to the woman’s face on the cover, and held the book more tightly after reading the summary. An author wakes up to find one of her characters standing above her, begging her to tell his story, and she does. I wandered the story, picked up the books I had intended to buy, and then stared down at the unexpected item in my hands. It sounds amazing, but how can I know if it really is? I debated for the longest time whether it was worth the risk – do I want to spend $15 on a potentially awful book? In the end I bought it. And I’m glad it did. The plot-line is compelling and the writing style is complex, slightly reminiscent of the movie, Stranger Than Fiction. It was an enthralling read, and I almost didn’t take a chance on it.
Risk is defined as “ the potential that a chosen action or activity (including the choice of inaction) will lead to a loss.” Risk, in and of itself, entails not knowing. However, that unknown territory is just as likely to lead to gains as losses. Taking a risk is often worth that chance. When we’re uncertain of what’s ahead, we generally don’t get our hopes up too high, and thus become excited over average outcomes. When things don’t go well, it’s okay because we weren’t expecting much anyways; in addition, failures are often the best opportunities for learning. Had either of my randomly chosen books fallen short, I’m sure I’d still have been pleased with myself for trying something new. Taking risks is frightening and often a challenge, but the gleaming uncertainty is also exciting, because in it lies hope for something new, better, and potentially life-changing.
I’m one of the most risk-averse people I know, and often struggle with situations that I can’t control. However, through small challenges, risks, and steps outside my comfort zone, I’ve learned that there is there is an overwhelming potential for positivity in new experiences, whether opening up to someone, traveling across the globe, or picking up a new book.
Lolita
The Four Elements: Reflections on Nature




