It hasn't helped.
Yeah, the to-read list looks like this
most of the time.
Last night, in a fit of exasperation and honestly, I culled my to-read list. I managed to pull about 30 titles off of it. I probably could have culled even more titles if I'd stopped to read more of the plot summaries. (I've done that in the past. When I reread the summaries, I want to read the book again.)
The victims of my latest cull were mostly titles that I aspire to have read*. (I apologize for the weird subjunctive there, but it's accurate.) I pulled classic titles by Henry James and others that I finally admitted to myself that I will probably never read. I want to have read them, but if I'm honest, I'm much more likely to continue reading a mishmash of contemporary literary and genre fiction. And you know what? I'm okay with that. I'm still reading a classic novel a month, per my resolutions. I may read Henry James and Alfred Döblin and Fyodor Dostoevsky someday. But it bothers me that some books just languish on the list for years.
* Fun fact: Queen's "Don't Stop Me Now" came up on my Spotify playlist while I was writing this. No, really.