Learning to Read Again

When Your Attention Can't Handle a Chapter a Day

Over the last few years I have struggled with reading. I don’t meant to say I lacked comprehension. I remained literate, but the practice of reading a physical book lapsed like an old coupon.

This is embarrassing to admit as someone who makes a partial living as a writer, but it’s true. I stopped reading books because I could not sit down long enough to concentrate outside of screens, podcasts, and soundbites, at all.

I collect books. I adore story. I compulsorily write every day! That’s who I am. No longer reading was slowly metastasizing from a quiet embarrassment to an identity crisis.

I used to read so voraciously as a kid I neglected basic hygiene, not brushing my teeth or combing my hair before bed because it would take time away from reading under the covers.

The library was my second home. I strained my eyes to the point of needing bifocals at 10. I wouldn’t shut up about Jack London at 12. Books were who I was—and in these recent years, realizing my attention span couldn’t keep up, it was too dark a truth to deal with. So I didn’t. I ignored it. There were more pressing things to worry about like foreclosure threats and heartache, and I would read more when my life was settled and the world was less hectic.

It happened slowly over the last decade. At first I told myself I was too busy to sit down and read a book. Running the farm solo was a lot for anyone, and when you’re also responsible for maintaining a house, business, and a social life; I barely had ten minutes of focus to skim a few pages before bed.

My “reading” became audio books. I told myself that I could listen while I weeded, drove to the butcher, or worked around the farm. But it wasn’t long before my ability to focus on their storytelling also wavered.

I may have heard the voices in my ears, but I wasn’t listening. My mind would drift and I stopped downloading new works and instead comfort listened to beloved novels, like Millennials putting on The Office to fall asleep at night.

It was my attention span. I got to the point where I could only listen to pithy vapid podcasts, people chatting the way a TV is on in another room. And even if the podcasts were about science or history, you could quiz me a few days later and I’d remember none of it.

Something was wrong. I missed who I was and I don’t think I am alone.

Many of us have been witnessing the slow death of our focus. Regardless if it’s social media, microplastics, the burden of incessant headlines, or the need to get our information in smaller and smaller doses; many of us have stopped sitting down with a book.

This is a statistical fact. We are reading less. And me, a damn writer, was just as guilty. I couldn’t concentrate. I would try. It’s not like I didn’t try. I’d sit and read and then my brain would glaze over words without digesting anything. I would have to go and reread the same sentences again and again, like someone who just memorizes the lyrics to a song without understanding the words.

I missed the younger version of me who read 3+ heavy books a month. Who actually tended the nightstand pile. Who didn’t feel guilty buying $25 dollar paperweights at readings and signings. And yet, here I was, over-informed and under-comprehending.

I had to do something about it.

Do Not Feel Guilty

It’s not our fault. Nor should anyone feel guilty reading this. I’m sharing this because we all are so desperate for information, our brains crave it like we thirst for water. And over the years we have been trained to need that information faster and faster.

The attack on our attention has been monetized and propagandized. It is both an act of healing and rebellion to sit outside and read a chapter of something that simply brings you joy.

I am the last person who will tell you to avoid the news, your podcasts, favorite reality TV showers or Youtubers. I think we all need to be concerned, coddled, and sedated at times when our brain craves information or rest, but know reading is a muscle and it can atrophy.

Use it or lose it, darling. I almost lost it. I almost gave up and I am so happy to have returned home to dog ears, tarot card bookmarks, and highlighters. Now I won’t go to the doctors’ office or laundromat without a physical book in hand. I still get plenty of screen time, but my page time is starting to take over. I can feel my heart rate slow down as chapters roll, and my mind gets to swim instead of sink.

Do you want that too? Come on in, the water’s fine.

Longing For Boredom

I suppose the first step is realizing you miss reading, miss the analog mind away from your phone and screens. This longing doesn’t even necessarily stem from missing books. I think there is a true mourning of boredom. We thought we were running from it. Turns out we needed it.

Perhaps you used to be able to sit with a Sunday crossword for hours, or get lost in a 1000-piece puzzle. Maybe you used to tinker with your car for whole weekends in the garage with nothing but the radio and the occasional friend dropping by with a 6-pack.

We used to find time to be people outside of the internet. Now the internet is what most of us use for work and communication, and then come home to our house internet for communication and entertainment. And those screens, be them iPhones or giant flat screens, became our world.

And they never, ever, allowed us to be bored again. We’re exhausted.

So I started fixing it last year.

And it worked.

Timing and Rewards

I started by using the timer on my phone. I set it for five minutes and I made myself (and some days I had to make myself) put down my work, get away from emails, take off my boots, and sit down and read a physical book. Then treat myself after I completed it. Not too different than teaching a puppy to sit. Positive reinforcement.

At first, this was awful.

I would read a sentence and forget it instantly, like watching those educational videos on YouTube I’d watch 3 hours before bed on ancient civilizations or history or meteorology and my brain felt like it was eating, but it was chewing gum. I couldn’t tell you three facts about the Etruscans a day later, but my brain thought I was being sated. The internet, especially YouTube, is mostly the high-fructose corn syrup of adult recreational education.

But I kept at it. Some days I barely got through two pages of actual comprehension. I had to keep a notebook beside me for whatever I was reading (and I allowed myself to read anything; romance, smut, beloved classics, children’s books, chicken-care guides, etc) and make myself write down what I just learned like I was taking a class.

I’d list the characters, motivations, arcs, last actions, words to look up I didn’t know, and after a recap to my dog and a visit to the dictionary I’d feel this small glow of happiness. It wasn’t the accomplishment of completing the task, as much as a return of the feeling of my brain stretching contracted tired muscles again.

I always gave myself a little treat afterward, usually something decadent like good chocolate. I’m a grown woman and can eat as much chocolate as I want, I know. But buying little individually-wrapped treats that melt in my mouth after learning something was the positive reinforcement my stomach applauds, and frankly, my gut and heart have always has been louder than my brain.

Over the course of a month, five minutes turned into ten, then twenty. When I got to the point where the alarm buzzing at twenty minutes got annoying because it was disturbing my reading, I knew I was getting somewhere.

I was starting to feel like myself again. I’d find myself missing the people in the novels I put down to do evening chores, wondering what would happen next? I realized what made me fall in love with books in the first place; that teleportation and comfort with another world. The same love I had for a movie theater or singer/songwriter’s concert - to focus entirely on the story.

It’s been over a year now and I’m averaging 2/3 books a month, reading two at a time! I am spending hours a week doing this now, just a chapter of each a day, perhaps thirty minutes to an hour total. It feels like getting back into shape, or picking up an old language you haven’t spoken in decades.

Timers Don’t Work? Make It A Game!

When I was really struggling at the start of this—and understood I couldn’t sit still long enough to read a single essay in The White Album—I realized I was trying to run a marathon when I had not even started walking 5ks again...

I worked up to concentrating offline by doing the things I loved in my youth offline, the kind of imagination games that I would spend hours with. For me, it was gaming. I loved board games, video games, and yes, READING games.

Many people are familiar with role-playing games such as Dungeons and Dragons, which is basically storytelling with stakes and gambling. It takes the idea of the campfire tale and turns it into a high-risk/high reward event. By making decisions of the characters in the story the responsibility of the people listening, they become participants. The thrill of dice rolls that mean success or failure - reading becomes a literal game.

I will always suggest RPGs to people who love stories, and there are many places online you can join or build a game through Zoom or even your local board game shop, but not everyone is interested nor has the time to commit to a game like that, including me right now. So I dove back into the world of RPGs alone.

Solo RPGs are a thing. You probably remember books like “Choose Your Own Adventure” as a kid? Think of that experience, but for adults, with adult themes, complex stories, higher stakes and emotional gambling.

I dusted off old solo RPGs I had in my stacks and got a hold of some new ones. As a horror fan, I got a hold of very quick and easy starters such as Whispers in the Walls, which only required a deck of regular playing cards and a notebook to play.

I started out by playing it before dawn, in the dark of early morning when I first lit the fire and the house was still quiet. The book suggested a playlist on Spotify, low lights, and other mood-setting suggestions. I obliged and my coffee table soon had me on a pile of blankets beside a lantern, shuffling spades and jokers, and reading about the adventure I had thrown myself into.

Every page I would pull a random card and that coincided with the next part of the story. It was my job to write down what I was feeling, what happened, what I saw. As someone who dabbles in fiction writing this was like doing pushups, helping me connect ideas in my actual writing projects as well as the game.

In about 30 minutes of spooky quiet I was forced to not only use my imagination and writer’s brain to connect clues, events, and story elements, I was genuinely having fun. Feeling like a little kid watching The Midnight Society on Nickelodeon, but better.

Whispers was a one-shot, a quick game that builds a story with randomness and a pop-up ghost (if you pull a joker you need to rush to that section and see what horrors await). But it is also the kind of game you get used to and even bored from quick.

So step it up, darling. Get a full-on D&D game for one.

I’m going to suggest Obvious Mimic, as they create very in-depth solo games for people who love D&D but are playing alone. You get to build your own character, which is so fun. And then you get to play as if you are in a group adventure, and I am telling you this is more fun to me than 90% of whatever is on another screen.

The Obvious Mimic games are PDFs (or physical books) and you do need a character sheet (included) and a dice set (not included) but I can’t recommend it enough if you have trouble sitting still long enough to read Tolkien. This applies to anyone who misses the peace of an analog childhood while living in a modern world where entertainment is supposed to come from screens alone.

There’s no rule that your reading time has to be anything but fun, and if you are already a gamer, look towards reading games! There are countless genres. Solo games about solving a mystery in a library, being a cat or crow, space adventures, or gritty survival and more. You don’t have to stop having nerdy fun because you can’t sit down to read Moby Dick.

The Good Feeling of Being Challenged

Here’s the thing: Podcasts, audio books, documentaries, science or history YouTube, etc - these are not the same to your brain or soul as sitting quietly to read a book. And there is something truly rewarding and pleasurable about finding that simple peace within pages again. Especially if you missed it as much as I did.

It takes work. And after your get back into the swing of things with chocolate or romance, smut, or dice - it feels even better to read something hard, something classic or more advanced.

I could not explain this better than Jeff does in this video essay. Yes, I understand that I am offering you a video in an essay about reading books, but he gets to the heart of why entertainment slop feels like nothing to your mind and soul compared to media that is more challenging and uncomfortable.

In his essay he uses Twin Peaks and Mr. Beast as his core examples, how one is made to challenge and educate you on your own choices and the other is basically a formula for complacency and thoughtless digestion. And it’s not about one being better, but how it feels so much better, in every way, to actually try something harder and learn from it.

Jeff explains, scientifically, why watching Twin Peaks makes you feel good, and why watching slop makes you feel bad. And it’s rare to feel both educated and uplifted on Youtube, so I can’t suggest this Swedish guy enough. His content is the opposite of numbing.

For The Love of Pages

It took a year of trying, really trying, but there is a difference now in how I comprehend things, and I had to be on this side of it to understand.

I am rereading Tolkien for the first time in over twenty years because I realized I thought more of the movies then I did the novels as I grew older, forgetting the prose and replacing it with movie quotes.

It’s like reading them for the first time, as I forgot to much. Yesterday on a walk with Friday around the farm I could tell her everything about Thorin being taken prisoner by the Wood Elves, how Bilbo used Sting and the Ring to defeat the spiders and save the party, how hungry and tired they must feel, how I felt tired for them, and so on.

All that aside, reading is skill. Reading well is a skill with rewards beyond measure. If it’s a skill you once had and let slip, you can get it back and should, by any means necessary, try.

Do it with smut, with dice, with nerdy space adventures or childhood favorites you let get dusty on a shelf. But please, do get that skill back. Not only do we need it culturally and socially, as reading builds and reinforces critical thinking - it makes us feel good. It makes the world easier and more beautiful to live in.

Turns out reading isn’t about ego. It never was about identity like I thought. It’s about going back to the brain we were meant and evolved to have, not the heart-racing strobe lights of screens and information without nourishment.

It’s about the esteem and sense of self actual analog learning creates. It’s about being human. It’s about knowing the smelly-breathed, tangled-haired kid under the covers was right.

We were meant to read and learn, over and over again.
Now go find your way back home.

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