How a Bookworm’s Forgetfulness Sparked a TikTok Reading Revolution
If you’ve ever finished a book you loved only to blank on the plot six months later, you’re not alone—and Bóna Bia knows *exactly* that struggle. The 24-year-old Hungarian content creator turned her frustration into a TikTok phenomenon by doing something refreshingly simple: documenting her reads in a physical journal. After realizing she could barely recall details of books she’d adored years ago (beyond a vague “I liked it”), she started crafting reviews printed from English templates she’d hunted down online—no local alternatives existed. She’d hole up in her room, binding pages into a handmade notebook while juggling post-grad life, never expecting her quiet hobby to catch fire. But when she casually shared snippets of her journal on TikTok, something clicked. Her authentic rants about forgotten storylines or gushing over underrated novels resonated hard, drawing a flood of comments like, “This is *me*—why do I never write this stuff down?”
What makes Bia’s content feel like chatting with your most book-obsessed friend? It’s the lack of pretense. You’ll see her filming mid-yawn beside a teetering stack of paperbacks, debating whether to call a slow-burn romance “thoughtful” or “just boring.” She skips polished aesthetics for candid moments: ink smudges on her journal pages, a half-eaten *kürtőskalács* (chimney cake) resting on her desk, or her cat batting at stray sticky notes. One viral video shows her standing in front of her cramped bookshelf, squinting at a spine while muttering, “Wait, did this character *die* or just move to Canada?” It’s this relatability—paired with her knack for distilling complex emotions about books into 60 seconds—that’s hooked over 100K followers.
Her impact stretches beyond likes and shares. Fans tag her in posts showing their own DIY journals, scribbling notes in library margins, or even reviving abandoned reads. “I started using her template method,” one commenter wrote, “and now my bookshelf has a whole section labeled ‘Bia’s Fault.’” She’s tapped into a universal truth: readers crave connection, not just recaps. When she polls her audience about whether to re-read a trilogy or abandon it forever, the replies flood in with personal stories about life milestones tied to those pages. It’s less a review channel, more a digital book club where everyone’s invited.
Behind the cozy vibes, Bia’s balancing a whirlwind of new roles. Fresh off earning her degree, she’s now a full-time entrepreneur managing *Könyvnapló* (Hungarian for “book journal”)—the passion project sparked by those early TikTok experiments. She admits juggling content creation with late-night study sessions (yes, she’s still taking courses) means her “aesthetic” is often “glowy from exhaustion, not highlighter.” Yet her hunger for stories never wanes. Ask her about her favorite genre, and she’ll pivot to ranting about how fantasy maps lie (“Why are there *always* uncharted forests?!”) or why literary fiction protagonists need better hobbies.
What’s next? She’s coy about specifics but hints at expanding *Könyvnapló* beyond TikTok—maybe a printed journal series for fellow forgetful readers. For now, she’s keeping it real: no corporate sponsorships, just books, vulnerability, and the occasional meltdown over misplaced Post-its. In a feed full of algorithm-chasing trends, Bia’s reminder that reading is messy, personal, and wildly human feels like a warm hug.