Trends 2026: digital formats, audio and mobile reading

If you write, work with books or simply love to read, you've heard this apocalyptic speech: “People don't read any more. It's all screens, fast video, notifications and rushing around”.” Every now and then it comes back, almost as a tradition. But the truth is that, once again, the data, the platforms and the behaviour of readers tell a different story: we do read - just in a different way.

And it is not a passing trend. What is coming in 2026 is showing very clear signs: reading is expanding into more flexible, accessible formats, adapted to today's pace of life.. We read while we travel, while we cook, while we rest, while we do sport. We read when we have a physical book, but also when we have five minutes to wait in a queue, or when the mobile screen becomes a portable library.

That doesn't mean that the printed book is going to disappear - nor do we want it to - but it does mean that writing is changing, and so is the reader.

Today I want to talk to you about these trends, but without technicalities or empty words. I'm going to tell you what's happening, what these changes mean and how they will affect writers, publishers, readers and creators of literary content.

The book is no longer just an object: it is a multi-presentational experience.

Until recently, the structure of the publishing ecosystem was simple: a book existed in print, and if it had some success, perhaps with luck it also had a digital version. The audiobook was a luxury for very specific titles, usually bestsellers or classics. But that paradigm is changing fast.

More and more literary projects are conceived with a multi-format perspective from the outset. Not because paper has lost its value, but because the story is no longer understood as a single physical artefact, but as a universe that can live in different media. The reader can start a novel in the physical edition in the evening, continue it in digital while travelling to work, and pick it up again in audio format while cooking or walking. Three different ways of approaching the same story, depending on the time of day, energy level and availability.

The book is no longer rigid. It becomes liquid. Adaptable. Connected to the reader's rhythm.

This change does not diminish the value of the book object; on the contrary, it revalues it. Paper becomes a ritual, a conscious pause, a sensory refuge. Meanwhile, digital brings accessibility, and audio adds something that no previous format had ever fully allowed: companionship.

Audiobooks: the unexpected renaissance of the spoken word

For decades, listening to books was considered a secondary experience, almost a poor substitute for those who could not or would not read. In recent years, however, something fundamental has been vindicated: literature was born oral. The world's oldest narrative tradition was not written or printed; it was told.

Perhaps this is why the rise of the audiobook and the narrative podcast is not just a commercial trend, but a return to substance.

What is happening is no accident. More and more readers are saying a phrase that, years ago, would have seemed absurd: “I'm reading a book... on my headphones”. And they say it without feeling like impostors. Because audio, far from subtracting, has broadened the relationship with the written word. The audiobook has become an extraordinary opportunity for everyone: for those who don't have time, for those who have reading difficulties, for those who want a more immersive and interpreted experience, for those who need to feel a text rather than simply see it.

And in 2026, audio will not just be an extended version of the original book: it will have its own rules, stories created specifically to be listened to, serial narratives designed as sound series, multi-voiced performances, original music and sound atmospheres that transform the experience into something cinematic. The reader-listener - that hybrid figure that until recently seemed anecdotal - is growing. And with it, the industry is transforming.

Mobile reading: the book that fits in your pocket

If we look at how the new generations interact with reading, there is a repeated pattern: the mobile phone acts as a gateway. Not because it replaces the pleasure of paper, but because it makes reading happen even when it was not intended.

Reading used to involve preparing a space: sitting down, lighting a lamp, holding a book. Now, reading can happen in those micro-moments that seemed lost: waiting, moving, brief silences. Mobile reading allows the story to continue without interrupting life, but rather accompanying it.

This change is shaping the way writing is done. It does not force us to simplify, but it does invite us to think about fluidity: shorter chapters, scenes that close cycles, more agile rhythms, more direct language. Stories that can be breathed in small doses. And the fascinating thing is that this fragmented reading does not impoverish the experience; it makes it constant. Reading ceases to be an activity reserved for special moments and becomes an everyday presence.

The screen does not compete with paper: it coexists.

If there is one thing we must accept, it is that this is not a format war. It is not a question of deciding which is “better”, because the modern reader no longer thinks like that. Their relationship with the book is plural. They can love the smell of paper and, at the same time, be relieved by the comfort of digital ink. They can be moved by listening to the voice of a narrator playing a character, and then pause with a pencil in hand in front of a physical edition to underline a sentence they want to remember forever. It is not the medium that is valuable. What is valuable is still the story, the emotion, the invisible connection between author and reader.

What does all this mean for writers and for the industry?

It means evolution. Writing no longer ends in a manuscript. It is prolonged in decisions of narrative voice, in sound experiences, in adaptations of rhythm according to the medium, in structures that allow for rememberability even in fragmented readings.

It means opportunity. An author can reach readers who would never have had access to his or her work in another historical moment. He or she can publish in multiple formats, work independently, build community around a unique and recognisable voice.

It means responsibility. It is no longer enough to write well: we must understand how what we write is consumed, how it is distributed, how it is adapted and how it becomes experience.

But above all it means that reading - that intimate, ancient, human activity - not only survives time: it expands.

We read on, even as the world changes

Perhaps that is the most beautiful thing about this whole process. Technology may transform media, rhythms, forms and habits, but it cannot alter something that belongs to human nature: the need for stories. We read because we need to understand, to imagine, to remember. We read to feel accompanied. To escape. To learn. So as not to forget who we are.

2026 will not be the year in which we leave traditional reading behind. It will be the year in which the word will demonstrate, once again, that it is capable of adapting to any era without losing its essence. We will read on paper, we will read on screens, we will read with the voice of others and with our own. We will read fast or slow, depending on the moment. We will read silently or to the rhythm of a narration. We will read standing up, lying down, moving, pausing. We will read alone and with others.

Because as long as there are stories and someone willing to listen to them, reading will live on. And today - against all predictions - it is more alive than ever.