Most reading habits do not fail inside the book. They fail in the ten minutes before it, when the phone is closer than the novel and the evening has already filled up.
Take Maya, who wanted to read more and kept buying books to prove it. The pile on her bedside table grew all spring. She read in bed, she told herself, but by the time she got there she was tired, and after two pages the light went off.
In June she tried something smaller. She moved one paperback to the kitchen and left it open next to the kettle. The rule was short: while the water boiled, she read. No target for pages, no timer, no app. Three or four minutes, twice a day.
The first week felt silly. The kettle was quicker than she expected, and she often stopped in the middle of a sentence. But she noticed that she had read something on every day of the week, which had not happened since school. By the third week she was letting the tea go cold to finish a chapter.
What changed was not her interest in books. It was the distance between the cue and the action. Boiling the kettle was something she did anyway, without thinking. With the book beside it, she no longer had to decide to read. That decision had been made once, on the day she moved the book.
There was a cost. A habit tied to one place breaks when the place changes. On holiday, with no kettle in the room, Maya read nothing for nine days. When she came home the book was still there, open at the same page, and she picked it up again on the first morning.
If you want a habit to last, look for something you already do every day and put the new thing right next to it. Keep it small enough that a busy day cannot crowd it out. Then count the days, not the pages.