Ever since the COVID-19 pandemic, social media sites, such as TikTok, popularized the concept of online communities. One, specifically, gained traction during this time, BookTok.

BookTok joined thousands of readers and grouped them into a literary nook within TikTok, where algorithms showcased book-related content that facilitated online conversation regarding plot twists, book recommendations and more.

As a reader myself, I loved watching others share their passion for books. I hadn’t seen many people excited about engaging in literary discourse before this event. I had found my community.

These were people who understood me, who matched my level of engagement with novels and world-building. That was, until recently.

Nowadays, BookTok continues to foster a literary community. The standards, however, have severely declined. Not only are people participating in the “reader aesthetic,” but it’s becoming a trend they often idealize.

Being a booklover or bookworm has always been about the genuine enjoyment that comes from connecting with a given text. Now, it’s become a performative act with the goal to be perceived as someone possessing intellect and genius.

The issue with BookTok is it has viralized creators who promote such a way of thinking to the point where this behavior is normalized. BookTok is now full of people who want to be readers, but that don’t actually invest their energy in reading.

What is a reader then? Someone who enjoys books? Well, not always. Readers dislike novels all the time. I, myself, will sometimes split the spine of my novel and face it down as a way to avoid interacting with the pages before me. But at least I know what’s happening to make that decision.

Others that glorify the “reading vibes” will often engage with people online and review books they haven’t actually read. Being knowledgeable about the plot doesn’t translate to having read the novel. But many in the BookTok community seem to disagree.

Not only are comment sections replenished with plot and character criticism, but also misinformation. Why? Because adopting the mentality that reading is a feeling rather than a concrete action makes people believe possessing reader-like characteristics is satisfactory enough.

Many things factor into such behavior. Short attention span, for one, has greatly contributed to “readers” online skipping over long paragraphs, complaining about the quantity of words and only consuming dialogue.

Content creators like Yana, have been known to viscerally complain about paragraph structures or that lengthy tone-setting makes books insufferable to get through.

To me, this seems like a minimal problem. People who share Yana’s mindset should consider watching a movie because what enriches reading as an activity is the “showing, not telling” element many have gotten bored of.

Reading goes far beyond the pretty covers and cursive chapter headings. It’s a unique employment of imagination through which a story is brought to life. While a movie showcases plot through a single lens, the same imagery in a story can be individually interpreted in a book.

But BookTok’s issue exceeds the devaluement of literature as text. Books popularized through such communities have a greater problem to be addressed: quality.

BookTok has truly become the SHEIN of literature, but since when are books treated like fast fashion? Well, when people’s standards lower as an exchange for continuous content, they become more permissive of receiving and consuming pieces of lesser quality and craft.

Nowadays, many BookTok authors whisk up a book out of thin air. This becomes a problem because it diminishes the editing phase. Thanks to a community that will intake anything, authors have settled.

They offer material replacement for what should be substantial content, releasing different unnecessary versions and editions of their books with distractions such as golden pages and sprayed edges that pull attention away from what’s truly important.

While TikTok is an incredible opportunity for self-promotion and marketing, I think readers have popularized the wrong authors.

Even though it serves as a platform for meaningful connective reader-author interactions, it misleads many into normalizing a mistaken version of bookmaking as the standard process.

In reality, book publication, agent connections and editor revisions happen at a much slower pace, with the majority of authors never receiving a movie deal.

But, we can’t talk about adaptations without first addressing what jumpstarted it all: Wattpad.

As a global community of readers and writers, Wattpad serves as a platform for people to share their work and critique others. With online sensations like “After,” “The Kissing Booth,” “My Fault” and “Through My Window,” readers have come to expect movies as a sequential step of the publishing process.

Such films were quickly produced and developed into series deriving from the original novel, some with movie adaptations signed before the publication of the book.

Book-to-film adaptations are nothing new, however. Works by authors like Suzanne Collins and Stephanie Meyer were quickly adapted into film. The difference is there was a story to pitch.

With tropes like bad-boy, good-girl and unnecessary sexual content, plots that are bland and heavily under-developed become an insufferable tradition brought to life.

Now, genres don’t define reader-status. Reading novels from the Brontë sisters or Charles Dickens doesn’t necessarily equate to an intellect boost, but at least density is present.

With the most popular BookTok genres being Romance and Fantasy along with Romantasy and Dark Romance as subgenres, plots have become as predictable as Hallmark movies and fuller than build-a-bears.

There’s this notion that reading works from deceased authors prior to the 21st century is academic, and therefore, perceived as possessing keen intelligence when in reality, genre doesn’t condemn anyone to a certain quality of reading. However, BookTok does.

Authors like Coleen Hoover, Ali Hazelwood, Emily Henry, Alex Aster and Elle Kennedy have benefited from the BookTok community. With bestsellers like “It Ends With Us” and “The Love Hypothesis,” Booktok has quickly become a genre of stereotypes.

The popular books remain popular so, how can a well-paced and structured novel be given a chance? What about a fantasy novel where world-building is as equally as prioritized as the romantic trope developing?

Does BookTok bring more attention to reading? Yes, but that doesn’t equal emotional depth. At times, publications stemming from such a community feel like a legitimate insult to intelligence, with books that dismantle the careful practice of balancing wonder and deliverance.

BookTok authors seem to trust their readers less and less with every book released as they are unable to believe their audience is capable of grasping subtleness.

What were once breadcrumbs hinting to a possible plot twist became entire revelations of the story.

To digest a book well, one must pay attention to every detail composing it. Skimming over storylines and only engaging with dialogue is profoundly shallow and lazy. If that’s what caters to you, a Netflix subscription might satisfy your needs better than picking up a book.

So, how did we get to this point? To this regression of intellect? By prioritizing everything else above what really matters—content.

Subscribing to materialistic trends related to “reader-behavior” can take shape in different ways, such as buying irrelevant Kindle accessories. Either way, these provide the erroneous belief readers are composed of several characteristics, when in reality, it’s all about simplicity.

All it takes is to open a book and engage with the content. Becoming well-read? Now, that takes willingness and effort to explore various genres instead of settling for what’s comfortable and easy.

My hope for Booktok is not its extinction, it’s a rebrand. In the time to come, I hope TikTok popularizes more books like “A Little Life” and “Normal People,” novels that are worth the praise and popularity.

For a literary renaissance to occur, the BookTok community needs to unlearn delighting at the bare minimum and instead, strive for greater, thought-provoking literary interaction.

Although there aren’t any official guidelines to reading well, the motto “fake it ‘till you make it” simply won’t cut it. It’s either dive in or tippy toe your way into the banal.