How To Read: ADHD Edition
How to Read: ADHD Edition
10 tips on how to overcome shame in your consumption of the written word, and feel a sense of fulfilment in being able to read freely and passionately in whatever way works best for you.
If you’re anything like me, you find it really hard to commit to reading, even if it’s a pastime you’re really passionate about. Over the last two years, the amount of books I’ve been able to mark as ‘Read’ in my Goodreads has declined significantly, and a lot of it has to do with my attention span and headspace. I don’t think reading should be seen as an obligation or a chore, but if you want to be able to ‘finish’ books — or are feeling shame about not being able to do so and wasting money/time/space in the process (which, of course, you aren’t, because enjoyment is never a waste) — maybe these tips will help. I’ve been utilising a lot of them subconsciously and have felt a lot more fulfilled and accommodated within my reading.
1. Keep it Interesting
You know that feeling when a critically-acclaimed debut comes out and seemingly everyone around you is perusing its pages? You feel obligated to buy it and read it to tap into the zeitgeist, and end up abandoning said masterpiece out of boredom. Or when a friend lends you a book that arouses nothing but apathy in your mind, but makes you feel compelled to borrow it and attempt to delve in (but to no avail)? Have you ever wondered why?
Maybe it’s the innate derisiveness of consuming popular media, maybe it’s a simple matter of concentration or lack thereof, or maybe it’s because you aren’t actually interested in its subject matter. The last one seems like the most likely culprit to me.
With that, I recommend that if you’re aiming to feel excited and immersed in a piece of literature, follow your hyperfixations. Whether they are crime, Catholicism, or critical theory, starting something knowing that you’re interested in its theme may make engagement easier.
Listen to all the Jack Reacher books, read a novella about nuns, dive into Ebert’s oeuvre. Whatever your current interest and/or hyperfocus is urging you to chase, listen to it. Whether you finish something or not is beside the point — what matters is enjoyment, however fleeting. This way you can embrace your wandering mind whilst simultaneously grappling with a seemingly insurmountable task: reading.
2. Rage Read
Conversely, read about an aspect of an interest that you completely disagree with or fail to understand sans anger or frustration. For instance, one of my special interests is autism, and I’m currently reading both a pop psychology book on gender, autism, and empathy, as well as an autism mom memoir. Neither of these subgenres or slants would be my first choice, but I chose them because they are making me critically engage with core values and views on said interest, and are also igniting emotional flames with some of their words.
3. Short Stories are Friends
I used to loathe the idea of short story collections simply because I could understand neither their beauty nor their literary value. I also think that there’s a heavy association with high school English when it comes to short stories that carry a message or a cause, whether that be an assignment for a narrative essay or a read-aloud of allegory-laden yarns (think Roald Dahl’s Lamb to the Slaughter). But I’ve come to realise the richness and merit of the short story, especially within the context of a collection. They break the need to follow reams of arc and interwoven/self-referential threads upon which so many novels are based. Yes, within their pages lies art, but coming from someone who reads novels with ‘I’ll finish this chapter’ in mind, short story collections are 1) a breath of fresh air in that they cut through the thick of complex narrative extensions, and 2) gripping in their pace and construction. What is more is that if you decide to put down whatever collection you’re reading and pick it up again weeks, months, or years down the line, there’s no need to play catch-up, because a fresh start could lie at page 156 and welcome you as openly as the one at page 1.
I highly recommend Carmen Maria Machado’s Her Body & Other Parties if you want a short story collection that allows room for the waxing and waning of interest without necessitating effort from a reader. Another collection I’ve enjoyed is The Informers by Bret Easton Ellis.
Additionally, if you are feeling particularly fleeting, you can always find short stories from author websites, online literary magazines, or even subscription platforms like Medium or Patreon that can both feed into the doom-scroll tendencies that many of us possess, as well as take the pressure of formal print out of our hands and allow us more nonchalance within a reading hobby.
4. Essays, Essays, Essays
Whether long-form or short, in a collection or standalone, essays are enticing for many reasons, a major one of which would be that they ‘have a point’. Long-form works of fiction and nonfiction alike have the propensity for meandering around convictions; this can be amazing if one feels in need of a deep-dive, but frustrating when you are in the mood for reading without the pressure of an intellectual marathon (associative thinking is great, but it can be exhausting if your brain is at odds with your energy supply). What is more is that an essay is often more fluid in terms of the expansiveness of real-life subject matter. An opinion piece on strawberries, a pop economics dialectic, a personal account of grief — the category of ‘essay’ warrants a seeker of such works to get creative!
I highly recommend Esmé Weijun Wang’s The Collected Schizophrenias and Maggie Nelson’s Bluets if you feel like stretching yourself genre-wise or changing your arrangements of the mind’s eye.
5. Anthology? Yes, please.
Anthologies are a blessing. They often provide a kaleidoscope of perspectives on a singular theme or topic, and remove the often-times stressful choice of choosing an author or bias with which to engage, both of which are great from a novelty point of view.
Books of this description that I have enjoyed or am currently enjoying include: The Penguin Book of Gay Short Stories (edited by David Leavitt and Mark Mitchell), Bi Any Other Name (edited by Loraine Hutchins and Lani Ka’ahumanu), and Eyes of Desire: A Deaf Gay & Lesbian Reader (edited by Raymond Luczak).
6. Non-linear/Unconventional Narratives = Mwah
Whether fiction or non-fiction, the only books that seem to hold my attention these days are ones that are comprised of innovative structures, points of view, plot devices, and/or symbolism. Examples of these would be Carmen Maria Machado’s In The Dream House, a memoir of abuse laid out in portraitures, or Bright Lights, Big City by Jay McInerney, a second-person narrative about sex, drugs, and running away from grief, responsibility, and your ex-wife.
7. Make It Quick
Hordes of my bookish friends delve into 700-page monsters at the drop of a hat with no hesitation or risk of waning interest in sight. I’ve done this on occasion — and don’t get me wrong, A Little Life is a gem — but often a book that is under 250 pages makes me feel that I can manage its weight in my to-do list and my backpack. I check the page numbers of most of my potential purchases when I browse bookstores because I know that, unless I’m really intrigued by a premise, I will often abandon a book before it picks up speed, only to pick it up a year or so later and plough through it once I have more patience or propensity for slowness.
This is also why I find anthologies, essay collections, short stories, and books packed with novelty a better bet than, say, Wally Lamb’s I Know This Much Is True (which I love, but I marvel at the 13-year-old Niamh who had the stamina for such a beast). If you are going to attempt a longer read, I suggest refraining from a timeframe and/or reading something shorter in tandem to break up any stagnation.
8. Ascribe Whatever Meaning You See Fit
I don’t know if I’m the only person that does this, but I often feel that I overthink the ‘next book’ I read. This, coupled with my preference for reading multiple things at once, is the primary reason for my bag being perpetually brick-laden by paperbacks. I’m not berating myself (unlike the litany of posture specialists/parents/relatives that have done so); I’m trying to surmise a why and a how. Why do I do this? Because I find objects meaningful and precious. How can I accommodate for this behaviour and maintain optimum postural health? Introspect about the meaning I ascribe to any literary work I choose, and use this meaning as a guideline for which book to prioritise.
That being said, one should not feel shame over the amount of effort put into a choice of literature. Whether you picked it off the shelf at random or agonised over its place in your life for an hour, it is worthy of your attention. Also, embrace the much-loved trash! Read fanfiction or poorly-written Y/A — you have the freedom to choose what you find enjoyable.
9. Listen
I personally don’t listen to audiobooks, though I used to when I was younger, and I found that it was a great way to passively read (and re-read) comforting material. In this, you don’t have to ‘commit’ to sitting down for a dedicated reading session. Though, what I mean by ‘listen’ doesn’t equate to ‘reading via audiobooks is valid’ (which, of course, you are). I’m talking about engaging with an author or subject matter by way of interviews and podcasts in addition to reading their work. If you feel a particular connection or fondness for someone or something, let the spark be ignited by a book and blaze across the fields of your everyday life in any and every way you see fit: TV appearances, summaries of their routines on creativity websites, YouTube shorts, Instagram. Pick your poison, and dive headfirst. I find that when I see the simultaneous ordinariness and complexity of an artist, I see their work in a different — and often better — light.
10. Be Kind to Yourself
Don’t smother yourself in shame over your methodology or routine when it comes to reading. As I’ve said before, pleasure should not be explicitly scheduled. Carry your book with you, whether it be on your phone or in your bag, and dive in when the mood takes you. I try to read every day, but I don’t set out to read for any length of time or any number of pages like I used to, because that transfigures nicety into duty. Love yourself, love the words you devour, and love the insight they feed you.
These are some of the things that I’ve applied to my own reading — take them or leave them at your discretion, of course. I just wanted to share the pitfalls and occasional prosperity that has shaped my approach to doing something I love: immersing myself in words in the best ways I know how. I hope that the contents of this listicle may inspire you to do the same.
This story was previously published on Patreon.
