Read short novels

Before we get to today’s habit, I want to tell you about two theories.

Theory #1: Books are getting longer and longer
The first one, which I haven’t been able to confirm, is that books are getting longer. My theory is that writers no longer have to handwrite a draft and then retype it on a typewriter. It’s simply easier to bang out another hundred pages today than it was a century ago.

Theory #2: Our attention span is getting shorter and shorter
Whether that’s true or not, I don’t think I need research to back up the second one. Our attention spans are wrecked by our phones. If you don’t know the feeling of doomscrolling, bless your soul. But if you do, here’s a thought, and maybe a fix.

We read less because books are getting longer and our attention spans are getting shorter. The solution is to start small. Drop the phone and get into short literary classics.

Currently, I’m fighting my way through an 800-page biography, and I know it will give me a great sense of accomplishment once I’m done. But it can also be quite tiresome to be in the company of the same person for that long. Reading short novels solves that problem.

My attitude towards classics is different. I’m not judging them in the same way as when I read a new book or watch a movie. Instead, I’m looking for their qualities. I’m not trying to figure out if this is a book I like, I’m trying to understand why it has become a classic.

And if you’re not hooked by now, it’s also a lot easier to be pretentious. Smaller novels can be carried in your fashionable oversized pants, and they are an excellent read on the subway or in a café.

Soon I’ll make a list of short books to choose from. I promise you there are plenty of good ones out there.

Here’s a picture of Jacob Elordi with two not so short novels. But they look small in his hands.