Sadly, the opposite is true. At age 17, I read everything I could get my hands on: the visceral (e.g. Herbert), the fantastic (Tolkien), the literary (Joyce). Today, unless I've specifically agreed to edit or beta read, most books get about 50 pages to pull me in.
Maybe it's my own mortality knocking at the door. At 17, I had a different attitude - if I started reading a book, I forced myself to finish it. Today, if I don't find joy in those first fifty pages, I look at the ponderous size of my TBR pile and move on 😀
I wonder if I read freer when I was 17 because I didn't see things coming like I do now. I still force myself to finish, though. It is extremely rare if I DNF
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