Media You Can Consume Instead Of Doomscrolling
On the art of writing, the human lexicon and collecting trinkets
Fast. A moving train that’s not stopping. I don’t know where it’s going, and it’s not slowing down to let me off. That’s what life has felt like over the past few weeks—fast, full of change and movement—and I don’t think it’s going to slow down anytime soon.
Don’t get me wrong: I love where I’m at right now. It feels like something new and exciting happens every day. Opportunities keep showing up, and I feel incredibly lucky to be in this position. My life is abundant with creativity, great people, and passion. It’s slowly morphing into the kind of life I’ve always dreamed of.
Still, I’m searching for balance. Trying to find small moments just for myself—and that’s been hard. That said, I think I’ve come a long way since the beginning of the year. I’ve been getting better at limiting my mindless doomscrolling and have started shifting the majority of my spare time toward reading and consuming more mindful media.
I’ve always been a little at odds with the idea of limiting my media consumption. I love media—it’s my job. And I’ve come to the conclusion that giving it up completely would be not only unrealistic but a little cruel. So instead, I’ve been choosing more intentionally. Here are a few things I’ve consumed this week that feel a little more nourishing—pieces that leave you feeling full rather than drained. Let’s be honest, a few minutes on TikTok can do the exact opposite.
These pieces stood out. They sparked thought, offered comfort, and carved out moments of stillness in the marvellous chaos of my current life.
If you’re looking to slow down this week and find some creative pockets to burrow into, the pieces below are for you. I hope you enjoy them—and that they help you find a little more balance, too.
Reading in the digital age has become incredibly difficult. We’re fed dopamine on a silver platter, drenched in blue light. These machines are designed to keep us addicted—and they’re doing an exceptional job.
We’ve become so self-absorbed. Constantly worried about what people think of us. Desperate to stay up to date. The idea of being disconnected—even for a few minutes—feels almost impossible.
“Reading at its core is selfless. It is us giving up our side of the conversation for the possibility of resonation. At its core is the ability to listen, and we have lost that art.”
In the never-ending noise of social media, we are slowly losing our ability to listen—to feed ourselves stories and narratives that aren’t about us or for us. People often tell me they don’t have time to read. But as this essay so beautifully argues, it’s not that you don’t have the time. You’re just choosing to use it to feed your own narrative.
We’re living in a world obsessed with binaries. Right and wrong. This or that. But books don’t give us those clear-cut answers. They ask us to sit in the discomfort of the grey space. They challenge us with ambiguity, contradiction, and cognitive dissonance—and many people just aren’t comfortable with that anymore.
What I love about this essay is that it doesn’t just diagnose the problem—it offers a way forward. Alongside its sharp insights into why we’re struggling to connect with meaningful literature, we receive practical, thoughtful tools for building sustainable reading habits. Tools that feel more urgent now than ever.
I highly recommend this essay.
Ocean Vuong: ‘Our relationships are more lasting than our ideologies'
The question of how we can be together has occupied a lot of space in my mind this year. In a world marked by war, violence, and deepening divides, it feels almost impossible to imagine a future where we can simply coexist—where we share this planet with care and understanding.
I read The Emperor of Gladness a few months ago and, while I didn’t love it, I can still see its importance and what Ocean was trying to achieve. (But this isn’t a review.)
This interview, true to Ocean Vuong’s form, is tender, poetic, and deeply affecting. Ocean uses language in a way that I don’t think anyone else on the planet does. He moves with tact and grace, leading us toward conclusions few others can reach.
The conversation is a meditation on togetherness. On how we not only carry our own pain, but can learn to shoulder the burdens of others. It’s about empathy, understanding, and, at its core, kindness.
“Life is defined by its stagnancy, and work by its dead-end nature. Where do you find hope when you know there is no escape? Is connection, even in the most unexpected places, our only real source of salvation?”
Even if you don’t plan on reading Ocean’s new book, I highly recommend this thought-provoking piece. It’s one of those rare reads that stays with you. A must-read.
Around three years ago, I stumbled across Benjamin Journal’s channel, and it was one of those rare moments that changed my life. I don’t remember exactly which video it was, but I remember how completely seen I felt—how connected I suddenly was to this beautiful person on the other side of the world.
I’m now lucky enough to call Ben a dear friend, but my awe hasn’t faded. There’s something about their honesty—not just in their taste in books, but in the way they share themselves. Their videos are raw, authentic, and brimming with humanness. Every time Ben uploads, I feel a type of joy that is hard to explain. Their latest video is, of course, nothing short of captivating.
If you haven’t already watched Ben’s videos, I implore you to. You might just find a piece of yourself in them, the same way I did.
Allan Gurganus, The Art of Fiction No. 248
Writers on writing is a genre that has always intrigued me. Hearing why authors do what they do and what inspires them makes a book feel so much more meaningful to me. Recently, I’ve become obsessed with The Paris Review interviews. Usually, I pick a random one to read during the week, and I always walk away with a new creative person to explore.
This week it was Allan Gurganus. I’d never heard of him before reading this article, and now I’m utterly obsessed. He was pivotal in the AIDS crisis and the art-as-activism movement—something that, as a young queer man, has always resonated deeply with me, especially in recent years.
The interview explores his early life, artistic influences, and the profound impact of historical events like the AIDS crisis on his writing. Gurganus shares his belief in fiction’s power to foster empathy and understanding, aiming to “tell the story of consciousness in the world.”
This piece was truly fascinating.
PS. How cute was he!!!
Over the past year, the rise of trinket collecting has been undeniable. I swear every person—and their dog—is collecting Labubu or Sonny Angels. I’ve never quite been able to articulate why I find these toys unsettling, but I think this article finally gave me the answer: they lack a story or meaning. The accumulation of these pieces of plastic or small home decor items to chuck away in a few years means nothing.
This article dives into the origins of collecting as an innate human need—something we’ve been doing for millennia—but also how it has evolved and changed over time.
I think it serves as a reminder to consume mindfully, to bring things into your home with purpose, and to surround yourself with items that hold memories. I loved this!
It’s hard to go more than a few weeks without recommending the beautiful Petya’s Substack, and I am not sorry for doing it again… This week, they were part of an interview where they discussed Substack—how they use it, how it’s evolving, and why it’s having such a moment right now.
I love learning from others, especially Petya, who is a huge role model for me. She’s cultivated such an amazing and interactive platform with A Reading Life, which is by far my favourite publication on this app. This podcast not only reminded me how incredibly lucky we are to have such kind and creative people sharing here, but it also gave me fresh direction for where I want to take my own writing.
I watched the interview on a cozy afternoon, and it was so informative. As a new writer on Substack myself, I found it both engaging and insightful. If you’re thinking of jumping onto Substack, I would highly recommend this watch!
With the pace of life right now, I think we’re all craving a little bit of slowness. A little more intention. When I’m feeling overwhelmed or at a loss, I always turn to Patti’s Substack. She holds me gently and reminds me to take a breath.
This book haul is incredible. Patti doesn’t just introduce you to new authors and titles you’ve likely never heard of—she creates a space of stillness. Hearing her words, soft and intentional, feels like sitting down with a friend over a cup of tea. It’s gentle, empathetic, and exactly what I needed this week.
I still smile every day knowing that we’re lucky enough to receive art from Patti on an almost daily basis. That’s why I love platforms like Substack—it’s truly unprecedented to be in conversation with one of the most important artists of our time.
Sometimes I feel so overwhelmed by the sheer volume of recommendations and media out there that I end up not watching or reading anything at all. It’s almost as if the abundance leads to stagnation. When I feel like I have nothing to engage with—no media, literature, or films—I turn to The Reviews Reviews column by The Paris Review.
This publication lets their staff share curated lists and recommendations of art they’ve been loving, and they never disappoint. I’m always discovering new names, films, or creative work to explore. If you’re feeling lost about what to consume next, I highly recommend checking out this column.
My darlings, I hope these pieces offer you a small retreat in the coming week and that you tend to yourself kindly.
I’d also love to start hearing about the amazing media recommendations you have—so please, let’s have a chat about them in the comments below.
I hope you’re keeping well, and I’ll speak to you next week.
Love,
Charlee x
This was brilliant, and now I have so many things to read and look into instead of doomscrolling ! Thank you 🙏
PS. Also love Petya’s Substack it’s remarkable
So well put :)
Reading really forces us to sit with ourselves which is why I love it so much.
It simultaneously forces us to be quiet with our thoughts yet incredibly imaginative and thoughtful :)