Can we relearn the joy of reading (and watching) slower-building stories?

TL;DR - nope, not doing that

Nicolaas Van Der Waay 44, Creative Commons

“I can definitely still do a cartwheel,” I said to my husband.

“Please do not do a cartwheel,” he replied.

“But I can.”

“I believe you. Please don’t try to prove it.”

Readers, I probably can’t still do a cartwheel. To save my husband the anxiety and me a potential urgent care trip, I didn’t try.

Getting older (hopefully) means getting more skilled and wiser in some things. However, it also means losing some skills we used to have. Sometimes, that’s fine. I do not regularly find myself in a situation that requires a cartwheel. But other times, I’m freaked out when I realize a skill has slipped.

One skill that I think has less to do with age and more to do with technology and the state of distraction in our world is my ability to focus on slower books and movies. I’ve given a lot of thought to the state of my attentional abilities over the years. Recently, in my newsletter for writers, I wrote about Attentional Health for Writers (it can apply to non-writers as well.)

Attentional Health for Writers

Attention is required for reading. It’s required for watching movies (actually watching them, not watching them in between phone checking). And because our attention has become so fractured (and all-out stolen and monetized by tech), books, movies, and TV shows have had to adjust to this new reality.

That’s why the only movies that seem to make it to theaters now are reboots, superhero movies, or big action movies with lots of jump cuts and explosions. It’s rare to see a big rom-com hit the theatres anymore (R.I.P. movies like Dirty Dancing, When Harry Met Sally, Sleepless in Seattle, etc.) Even pop songs are shorter these days.

This fractured attention is also why writers are asked to write books with big, hooky opening chapters and to move lightning-fast with our plots. That’s not how it always was. Books needed to have interesting openings and be well-written, but they didn’t have to move at a blinding pace. For those of a certain age, think back to how long romance novels used to be. Sometimes the couple wouldn’t even meet for a hundred pages! I’m not saying we should go back to that, but I do remember those stories feeling deeply satisfying, like you’ve really lived in that world with the characters. It made them more memorable in some ways too.

Over the past week, I’ve watched two movies that showed how much things have changed. One was The Big Chill, a 1983 movie (with a stellar ensemble cast) about a group of college friends getting together after the funeral of another of their friends for a reunion of sorts. They’re now solidly in adulthood and not the rebellious 1960s young adults they were.

I had never seen this movie (I was 3 when it came out) but I’ve heard it referenced many times, so when the Criterion Channel app featured it, I thought I’d try it. I was struck by how slow-moving it was but also how…wonderful. Most of the movie is just the group hanging out and talking. But there’s love, friendship, nuance, great dialogue, and nostalgia. I truly enjoyed it. But I also couldn’t help but think, This would never get made today. And what a loss that is.

The same thought hit me when I watched another “people talking” movie. I had never seen Before Sunrise with Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy. (I know! I know! I’ve just lost both my romance membership card and my 90s teenager card.) This movie is about two people meeting on a train in Europe and deciding to spend one day together in Vienna before they have to go back to their respective countries. That’s the whole plot. They walk around Vienna, experiencing a few different sites and activities, and they talk. And talk and talk. And it was heartfelt and lovely and romantic. I can’t wait to continue the trilogy. But once again, it would never get made today.

As I was watching these movies, I could FEEL myself being antsy. I wanted to reach for my phone even when I was thoroughly enjoying the movies. And that just straight-up annoyed me. I know for a fact I had this skill once upon a time. I hate feeling like an outside force has affected my brain in that way, that I’ve given something away. So, I decided this was now my mission—to retrain myself to sit with and enjoy the slower-moving stories. In movies. And in books.

To get past the initial restlessness this time, I crocheted while I watched both movies. That helped a lot. I think having something to do with my hands that’s not my phone is a good strategy.

And for working on reading slower stories, I ordered a stack of books that are at least 20 years old, ones that are going to require more of my attention. However, I chose a few children’s classics to put into the mix because I figured that was an easier entry point into retraining myself for older books. I don’t need to start with War & Peace. :) (This is also where I admit, I’ve never read Anne of Green Gables. I know, I know. I’m sorry!)

So, can we relearn (or learn for the first time) how to grab our attention back and sink into stories that take a more leisurely pace? I think (aside from diagnosable attention disorders) that we can.

But it’s not going to happen on its own or without effort. Things are only going to get faster. Just think how quickly we went from long-form YouTube videos and still shots on Instagram to the rapid pace of Reels and TikTok videos. Our ability to pay attention to even fast-moving books is in jeopardy. (For instance, how much have you skimmed this post, jumping from paragraph start to paragraph start? No judgment. I find myself doing that on long posts too, but I don’t want to do that.)

To grab our attention back will take an active decision to step away from the plugged-in whirlwind sometimes (or a lot of the time) and rediscover the joy of really paying attention to a story. Reading and not skimming. Watching movies and not looking at our phones. Remembering that just because something is a quiet story or a slow build doesn’t mean something’s wrong with it, that we may just need to give it a minute to unfold. And, for some of you, it may not even be about reading slower stories but just finding the attention to really lock in on a modern-paced book instead of rushing through it or half-reading it (or half-listening on audio) and getting the gist.

Fight back. Our attention should be ours to give not tech’s to manipulate and steal. I’ll give up my ability to do cartwheels, fine, but I’m no longer okay giving up my ability to sink into a story with everything I’ve got.

If any of this is resonating, I’d love to hear your thoughts! Have you felt a change in your ability to pay attention to certain types of books and movies? Do you get ansty when a story is slower to build? Have you done anything that has helped combat that attention-drain?