I love books. Ideas, words, and language are my favorite. I also love forming a relationship with a writer–a virtual relationship, usually, when I don’t know them personally. I connect with the writer through what they’ve created. We form something imaginary yet somehow real?
But I can get overwhelmed by books, and then intimidated by them. Zines are so much easier, for me. I feel more invited, like a zine is low commitment. Zines are friends.
But there are many things to do with books, besides reading them cover to cover. Here are some ideas I have.
things to do with books
- Photograph the book and publicize it.
- Honor the book by building an altar to it. Then worship it.
- Keep the book near you.
- Open to a random page, take a deep breath, and read just that page.
- Ask someone else to read out loud just a page to you.
- Talk about the book with other people or in your blog.
- Read about the book–reviews, essays, controversy.
- Stare at the cover for a long time.
- Smell it.
- Touch it.
- Buy a copy for a friend.
- Thank it for doing its good idea-work.
- Ask someone close to you to look at it and tell you what they think.
- Sleep with it under your pillow.
- Loan it to someone.
- Paint an art depicting it.
- Learn about its authors.
- Make a zine about it.
- Make a youtube video about it.
- Write a song about it, to sing its praises!
- Group it with other books that have something in common with it.
- Give a copy to a queer library in your town or a coffee chop, or some other book sharing space.
This book Skin, Tooth, and Bone helped inspire this post. Disability justice is one of my favorite things. I love the edgy, vivid way Sins Invalid pull together disability, sexuality, justice, embodiment, and the trauma all disabled people are going to have, from what our culture does to us.
Sometimes I find Sins Invalid overwhelming, with the pain expressed, and I have to hide from the violence depicted. Even when there’s transformation and triumph, I can’t take the beginning part. It’s hard work, to go on that ritual journey. Sometimes I’m not strong enough.
I hope you’re getting the justice you need, around your disability, sexuality, differences, challenges, changes. You are a brilliant force of goodness. It’s a joy to speak with you.
I’m imagining you really good right now, and loving you, from this desert here.