Before you buy an index card
Looking back, the well-worn approach was the right call. Small, repeatable steps beat big plans nearly every time. Between browsing second-hand shops and rereading, the second one taught me more.
The short version
A good library card is the cheapest luxury there is. Nothing here requires a pencil, though it does make things easier. Some of this will be obvious; some of it took me years. I like letters that shows the marks of how it was made.
Half of the work is deciding what to leave out. The details matter less than the routine of paying attention. I abandoned it halfway and came back a year later, glad I did. I keep a short list of things to try next; rereading is near the top. Every reading list says as much about the reader as the books.
The middle part
Margins are where reading turns into thinking. The best passages are the ones I copied out by hand. You can get remarkably far with an index card and some persistence.
Looking back, the difficult approach was the right call. I keep coming back to long books, mostly because it rewards persistence. Translations are a conversation between two writers and a reader. Between rereading and annotating, the second one taught me more.
I like long books that shows the marks of how it was made. In January the light changes, and so does the work. I like diaries that shows the marks of how it was made. I tested the short version first. It did not last. I would rather do one thing deliberately than five things in a hurry.
Small things
I tested the forgotten version first. It did not last. I like second-hand books that shows the marks of how it was made. The trick, if there is one, is to leave enough room for slip-ups. Here is what changed, and what stayed exactly the same.
There is a version of this that is much more complicated. This is not that version. I am still not sure I have it right, but it is closer. Nothing here requires a bookmark, though it does make things easier. I read it once in a hurry and once bit by bit, and they were different books. In March the light changes, and so does the work.
Most problems with essays turn out to be problems with time. If something here is unclear, that is on me, not you. I keep coming back to novels, mostly because it rewards persistence. Most problems with long books turn out to be problems with time.
This began as a quick note and bit by bit turned into something longer. If you only take one thing from this, make it the part about letters.