By: Silvia Ferrer

The #bookstagram and #booktok community enticed me because I’d never been able to share my intense love for books with anyone in my real life – and here was this entire online group dedicated to reading that spanned across platforms and genres! 

Once I’d made my very own bookstagram however, one of the first things that caught my attention was that most accounts, especially the ones with huge followings, frequently touted a physical copy of the latest release on their page. Most creators seemed to have physical copies of all the books they read, actually, which created this FOMO feeling that is all too familiar for the chronically online like me.

I couldn’t help wondering what would happen to all those books in the future. Years prior, I had looked around my room and noticed that it had been invaded by books. Books I had been influenced into buying, books I’d bought at library sales or thrift stores, and books that had been required class reading. I didn’t have an attachment to half of my library. The book stacks had become little more than a frustration and hindrance in my already limited space. After completing a massive decluttering, I donated them to my library and local thrift store, which wasn’t a perfect solution. 

While donating can help an unwanted book find a forever home, it can also create the same problem for libraries and thrift stores: take up limited space. Thrift stores have spoken out for several years about how donations have overwhelmed their shelves. And what happens if a book isn’t bought? While the flow of thrift store waste isn’t clear, the EPA reported in 2009 that only 33.3% of books in the waste stream were recovered for recycling. 640,000 tons of books were discarded into landfills, but that number is expected to be higher considering that all municipal solid waste has risen since. The book publishing industry is a top contributor to greenhouse gasses and uses millions of trees a year to produce books. 

Perhaps unintentionally, content creators who post book hauls or always have the latest read on their feed are encouraging the same overconsumption fast fashion creators do. Slow reading, or sustainable reading, is a relatively recent concept that encourages intentional and secondhand purchases akin to the slow fashion movement. 

My decluttering wouldn’t have been impactful had I not recognized my wasteful and frivolous behaviors and made steps to change them. I’ve committed to checking my library’s reserves before I click “buy now.” If it’s not in stock, can I find an ebook? Libby is a free app that allows users to borrow ebooks, magazines and audiobooks from public libraries, and apps like Scribd house millions of books and audiobooks for a low monthly cost. 

When I really want to own a book, I buy it secondhand and try to do so from independent booksellers. If I’m lucky, I can score it at a thrift store near me! One of the hardest habits to break, though, has been to fight against the desire to keep up with other online creators. As a “bookstagrammer” myself, this has been especially difficult because there is an inherent pressure to keep up with larger content creators. I remind myself that sustainability as a whole is a continuous process – choosing the least wasteful option every day. There are slip-ups sometimes, but the net good is what matters.

It was liberating to declutter my overstuffed library, but it’s been even more liberating to make intentional purchasing choices. I’ve curated a book collection I feel connected to by focusing on slow reading. Some creators are already following this concept and informing their audiences, but it will take a collective and intentional effort to avoid following the same path of the fast fashion sphere.