Scrolling through my Goodreads this September, I sighed at just how empty it was. In nearly ninety days with absolutely nothing to do, I had read a grand total of three books. All short, easy novels by Kazuo Ishiguro, all logged within the same two week period where I was traversing England by train and needed to pass the time in the countryside without an internet connection. The rest of the time, nothing. I had tried several times, but with reliable internet access and without the urgency of looming boredom, I just never ended up committing to the book.
As someone who’s always been an avid and fast reader it was sobering to see the desolate evidence of a summer largely consumed by TikTok and Instagram Reels brain rot. This was, without a doubt, a major reading slump. I used to get through a 300-500 page book every other week — how could I have let myself get here?
Overconsumption of short-form content, like 30-second videos on TikTok, is anecdotally well known to reduce attention spans. One 2023 study of over 1000 undergraduate students revealed that short-form video addiction impacted academic procrastination and attentional control. For me, this meant I was having a hard time enjoying or finishing longer books except when there was literally no other option. Even more alarming was the thought of struggling with dense college reading. So, I decided to bring myself back to my old baseline by slowly reversing this phenomenon: since I was struggling to finish books, I was going to microdose reading using long-form journalism.
I committed to reading one long-form article per day, usually before bed. My definition of a long-form article is a journalistic feature or an essay that is at least 1200 words long, and typically provides some kind of in-depth perspective. It’s an article that doesn’t just take time to read, but is thought-provoking.
I managed to meet this goal almost every single day, making sure to tap on the New York Times app when I was tempted to open Instagram. I even started watching in-depth video essays on YouTube rather than short, snappy TikTok videos. I try for one book a week, mostly literature or nonfiction. More than just going back to books, I’ve developed a love for long form content in general. I’ve also found that in such a turbulent political climate, long reads give me much more to think about than just election results or presidential policies. In-depth journalism is one of the best ways to get into, or back into, reading. I’ve read about everything from fascinating true-crime cases to harrowing narratives of poverty to personal memoirs and cultural critiques.
Most of all, I enjoy reading again. I find myself reaching for an article much more often, and I read every night before bed, and I love the breadth of learning that long-form offers. Some of the best essays I’ve read, like “The Fourth State of Matter” by Jo Ann Beard, might as well be considered literature because of how evocatively they tell stories.
Long-form feature journalism and essays have always been one of the finest forms of feature writing. In an age of decreasing literacy and a push for shortened content like videos and informational Instagram posts to take over, the necessary complexity of long reads means they are increasingly ignored and under-appreciated. I’m so happy to have rediscovered long-form in my quest to read more — I feel like even in two months, the sheer volume of information I’ve received has broadened my views and given me more to think about.
Some of my favorite sources are the New York Times Great Reads section, the New Yorker magazine, Vanity Fair, the Atlantic, and Aeon. You can find long-forms in almost any publication. If that’s not your style, try finding longer stories in specialized magazines like sports, cooking, or travel, that suit your interests. Set your own goals and word counts, but make sure what you read makes you think.
Long-form content reminds me that some of the most profound rewards come from taking the time to slow down and truly think. In a world rushing toward brevity and “efficiency” of information, the stories that linger are the ones worth holding onto. And for that, I’ll always choose the long read.