4 Hacks Good Readers Use to Remember the Writer’s Key Points
Stop trying to understand everything.

There are few things more sacred than time. You can spend it, but you can’t get more of it.
Reading requires time from each of us. It’s why I value each sentence I write. Am I being as honest as I can be? Am I giving readers something valuable?
This transaction of time and insight should cause us to make one thing clear. We want to get the most out of what we read.
But if I’m not aiming to learn anything from what I read, why read anything at all?
Here are a few pillars I use to remember the good stuff.
Be interested in what you read
If your goal is to fall asleep, read something you’re not interested in.
I used to read books and articles to impress people. I wanted their acceptance, so I went through the process of reading line after line.
What I didn’t tell them was how much it made me yawn. It was like working a double shift in one hour.
Trust me, having 100 books on your wall means nothing.
What was the point of the book or story? What can you apply today that you didn’t think about before reading it?
I would rather read two sentences and act on them than read 100 books and stay the same. Your mind is a terrible thing to waste.
Normal people read what’s popular.
Successful people read what piques their interest.
Interact with the author
We believed the lie that reading is a one-way street. The writer tells the narrative. We sit back and listen.
But reading is active. It’s a conversation between you and the writer.
The only to make this work is to interact with the author.
Passive readers believe anything because someone famous wrote it. Active readers dig deeper and test the waters. They probe at statements that cause reactions.
Here’s an example of a few statements I respond to:
- “All you have to do is show your work.” — Is it all you have to do, or is there something else?
- “A system is a way to do more by doing less.” — Wouldn’t that be a process instead of a system?
- “Designers have the best job in the world.” — Writers say the same thing. What’s the evidence for this claim?
It may seem odd to ask questions to someone who can’t read them. But sometimes your questions get answers as you continue reading.
That’s what makes it a dialogue.
Add your marks
All my books have marks in them.
Friends can’t borrow them because of all the scribbles and doodles in the margins. I’m talking random questions, arrows, and custom sketches only I can understand.
That’s not a bad thing. After all, these books belong to me.
I flesh out my thoughts on what I’m reading. My preference is to do it in the book itself. But if I have more to write than the page can hold, I turn to another medium of choice.
Most of the time, I grab a pen and paper to write about my opinions or objections. Other times, I open a new tab with Google Docs or Notion to hold them for me.
Diving into a story is one of the most profound ways to spend your time. It’s way better than doom-scrolling through social media for hours.
Think about it: You don’t have to meet the author in person. They’ve told you so much in their writing already.
Adding your marks attaches key concepts to your brain. We remember what we interact with, not what we consume with our thinking caps off.
Stop trying to understand everything
I have friends and family who love to read. Some more than others. Genres range from easy-to-digest pieces to stuff that makes your brain do cartwheels.
I like a bit of both worlds.
I want something that will challenge me, and open my eyes to something new. But I also want it to be clear and easy to understand. No weird jargon.
No matter where you fit in, the most important thing is that you find “the point.” Without finding it, you risk wasting time and being more confused than when you started.
Part of this responsibility is on the reader. The other part is on the writer.
Both play a crucial role in cultivating a meaningful outcome.
You don’t need to understand everything. You only need to understand the main idea. Then you start to see how the pieces fit together.
I remember getting a comment from a reader. She said something that stuck with me.
“Kevin! Just finished a book the other night that genuinely disappointed, perplexed, and confused me. And I am glad for the experience — it was all in, face scrunched and enjoying lyrical prose and wonderful ideas and also the sense that I wasn’t clear on some things and going back to figure them out.
It was a novel, by the way, not some dense tome, but I gave it — and the writer — respect and appreciation for the story and received it for myself when I reached the end, glad for the experience.”
She enjoyed the experience. She interacted with it instead of letting it drift by. Going back to get clear on some things, while connecting the dots on others.
I love that.
In the end, she was grateful for the conversation.
I can tell there was something powerful she took from that novel. The most important parts captured her attention, and she engaged with them.
I challenge you to be like her.
The next time you sit down to read, be an active participant.
That’s how you master the art of remembering the good stuff.
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