Illustration by Louisa McDonald, used with permission

BookTok, TikTok’s flourishing book community, has no doubt reshaped reading and publishing habits since its rise during the COVID era. It’s hard to come by a young reader who hasn’t been recommended a BookTok classic – an infamous Colleen Hoover, say. My own reading list stands as a testament to this, with my Goodreads 2023 challenge shaped by A Court of Thorns and Roses and countless Taylor Jenkins Reid novels. A quick glance at Goodreads reveals I’m not alone. Sarah J. Maas and her endless list of romantasy novels dominate almost every recommendation list the platform has to offer. Yet, despite having read huge amounts more since adopting BookTok recommendations, I’ve been left with an unexpected sensation: not of becoming a more avid reader, but rather the opposite. 

While BookTok seems like a great democratizing force in the reading community, it actually has a deeper impact on what we read and how we read it. As the age of TikTok encourages people to scroll through bite-sized content at lightning speed, it’s no surprise that popular literature is being sculpted to fit the same mold. The frantic, short-form nature of TikTok has paved the way for books that get straight to the point, often at the expense of narrative depth, character development, and thematic complexity. It’s a trend that prioritizes speed over substance, immediate gratification over a slow, thoughtful journey. Think of the books that dominate the BookTok scene: high-stakes romances, tropified fantasy worlds, and stories that unfold at a rapid pace. It’s clear that the more intricate narratives are being left behind in favour of content that hooks readers immediately and keeps them engaged with easily digestible plots. They play into the “emotional quick fix” that has become so common in today’s media.

Such easily digestible stories greatly reflect the style of writing found in the world of fanfiction and Wattpad. Take Ali Hazelwood’s The Love Hypothesis — the epitome of a BookTok recommendation. It began as a Star Wars fanfiction, the character names only changing for publication purposes. Although an enjoyable read, it’s hard to ignore that the appeal lies more in its familiarity and comfort rather than in anything particularly original. As readers become accustomed to the tropes and formulas presented by BookTok, their expectations become skewed towards the predictable. The problem isn’t that these books are bad, but that they’re designed with such ease of consumption in mind that they lack the timeless impact of literature.

BookTok has been praised for increasing accessibility of publishing novels. But even this may not be a good thing. Lightlark by Alex Aster, a recognized BookTok sensation, was given its moment in the social media spotlight after being rejected 12 times over the course of 10 years. The book can be described as a “sexy Hunger Games”, and to me it is no surprise that it was disregarded by traditional publishers. Of course, publishers are not infallible, and many books do get overlooked when truly deserving of recognition. In this case though, the plot is recycled and familiar, bringing nothing new to the table except a fresh coat of paint and a catchy social media strategy. While the original The Hunger Games prompts reflection on themes like oppressive regimes, media manipulation, and social inequality, Lightlark simply adopts a myriad of similar tropes and presents a protagonist who is the image of flawlessness, confined to the predictability of the archetype she’s been assigned. BookTok has allowed a derivative work to rise to prominence simply because it checks all the right boxes for the current market. 

It’s true, BookTok has the potential to make a positive impact. Particularly for younger readers, it has renewed interest in reading. But the question remains: what kind of books are these readers being encouraged to engage with? It’s the rapid-fire, plot-driven romances that dominate the recommendations, leading over books that require patience and contemplation. In turn, BookTok’s promising potential does not translate into a gateway for young people to enter into reading, but rather into an impact on what gets picked up by publishers. In a telling example, The Picture of Dorian Gray has been dismissed by parts of the internet as boring or too slow, despite its recognised standing as a significant classic which raised shocking and unexpected ideas for the time of its release. Perhaps this isn’t surprising. After all, how could a slow, philosophical classic compete with the immediate gratification earnt in an action-packed fantasy like Lightlark, the prime example of what is being picked up by publishers today? I’m not claiming that classics are inherently superior to popular fiction, or that everything considered ‘good’ truly deserves that label. The problem that is demonstrated is that Booktok has reduced the criteria of reviewing books to just one question. Is this book immediately emotionally rewarding?

This is not a critique of the enjoyment of BookTok style books. As mentioned, they have taken up many of my own hours of reading, and there is much to be said for these books as an alternative vice to short-form media. But the shift in taste marks a turning point in the evolution of literature. As BookTok continues to dominate the Young Adult reading landscape, it appears the books that succeed will likely be those that cater to this generation’s common denominator of shortening attention spans, and we will see a decline in the success of more critically engaging reads.