Literature

One of the largest distributors of print books for libraries is winding down operations by the end of the year, a huge disruption to public libraries across the country, some of which are warning their communities the shut down will limit their ability to lend books.

A vending machine in Washington, D.C., is providing nourishment — for the mind. LitBox is filled with books by local authors, just steps from the White House, World Bank and International Monetary Fund.

Most e-books have digital rights management software that means, like print books, they can only be checked out by one person at a time. But unlike print books, which can sit on library shelves for decades, e-books are often sold on time-limited contracts — meaning public libraries must buy them again after several years or, in some cases, several months. The costs can add up quickly.

Last Sunday I spent hours at the Brooklyn Book Festival, a too rare occasion for me to pull myself away from the internet for an entire afternoon. As I looked around at the crowd on their way to panels or checking out indie press booths, I was reminded that, even if it doesn’t always seem apparent from looking at news headlines, there are many, many of us out there: people who care about books and culture and their community in general.

On Oct. 8, 2010, the New York Times ran a story on its front page: “Picture Books No Longer a Staple for Children.” As we interviewed children’s publishing professionals while compiling this list, several told us they remembered exactly where they were when they read this death knell for their industry. The Times wasn’t wrong: Sales were down, especially of new books. Once upon a time, an adult shopping for a child might have bought a classic they remembered from their own childhood, and also a new book, recommended by a bookseller. More and more, buyers just went for the classic—almost always Seuss or Sendak—and new books languished on the shelves.

Over the course of two generations, from 1984 to 2023, the proportion of 13-year-olds who said they “never or hardly ever” read for fun on their own time has nearly quadrupled, from just 8% to 31%.

August 12th marks the 65th anniversary of Dr. Seuss’s Green Eggs and Ham, a book whose orange cover fills me with delicious nostalgia. Svetlana Boym defines nostalgia as “a longing for a home that no longer exists or has never existed.” What imaginary home do I miss so much? And why do so many of us miss this same place?

The stores I’ve stopped in are all different, with their own stock and their own personalities. There are stores on tree-lined streets, and in urban centers, strip malls, old homes, and refurbished warehouses. Once, I pulled into a dirt parking area convinced I was lost, until I saw a bright awning confirming there was indeed a bookstore there. Yet no matter where I went or how far from home I traveled, I felt welcomed every time I stepped inside. I was reminded that I’m part of a community that transcends geography and countless divisions—a community of people who read. Regardless of our favorite books or chosen genres, we believe in the value of language, creativity, and communication.

I am African Australian—the one is not exclusive from the other. I am a daughter of the Wajita people of Tanzania, and now I live in Melbourne, Australia. I am a daughter of the land that belongs to the Wurundjeri and Boon-Wurrung people of the Kulin Nation. The creative space where I tell stories is literary speculative fiction: I write and perform short stories, novels, novellas, prose poetry, creative nonfiction. I write across genres.

Maria Montalvo speaks with emotion, her eyes shining as she recounts her reading experiences. She says she especially enjoys books by Isabel Allende, Octavia Butler, Toni Morrison, Erika L. Sánchez and John Grisham because, in her words, “reading makes you wiser and you learn how people live in other countries. It takes your mind to other places you can’t travel to.”

When I first call Ros Hemmings, I expect her to be surprised. A widow in her 60s living in rural North Wales, she has never received a call from an investigative journalist in London. But instead she tells me: “Oh no, I have a very good idea why you are ringing.” She has been waiting for this call for years.

Barbara Kingsolver points out that Trump’s “so-called Big Beautiful Bill” could be devastating for Appalachia, with its cuts to the National Park Service, the Weather Service and disaster preparedness – just last year the area was hit by the devastating Hurricane Helene – and cuts to Medicaid, which could cause havoc in an already under-served area. “The damage will be unimaginable. Lots of people will die, lots of wild lands will be destroyed. The damage is terrifying.” Does she think her Trump-voting neighbours will change their allegiance if such terrors come to pass? “Will they connect the dots when our hospital closes? I don’t even know the answer to that,” she says, shaking her head, fearing that the TV and radio stations that told them to vote for Trump in the first place will “come up with some other reason why your hospital closed. For those of us who are in the information business, that’s a depressing subject.”

Anybody who ever lighted a fire without matches has probably gained some proper respect for “low” or “primitive” or “simple” technologies; anybody who ever lighted a fire with matches should have the wits to respect that notable hi-tech invention.

Nowadays we associate the word “prodigy” with precocious children, but in centuries past the word was used to describe anything monstrous. Victor Stott clearly qualifies as a prodigy in the modern sense, but he qualifies in the older sense too: Not only does he frighten the ignorant and superstitious, he induces a profound terror in the educated and intellectual. Seen in this light, the first novel about superintelligence is actually a work of horror SF, a cautionary tale about the dangers of knowing too much.

We are standing on a precipice.

Like fashion trends, fads in book covers come and go. One year, the backs of women’s heads might be all the rage; the next, soft focus photography. And who can forget the exploding flower craze? Or the proliferation of flames on jackets, from thrillers to science fiction to self-help?

Like the two Naomis [Wolf and Klein], conservatives and progressives become warped mirrors of one another. The progressive campaign for bodily autonomy is co-opted to be the foundation of the anti-vax movement. This is the mirror world, where concerns about real children – in border detention, or living in poverty in America – are reflected back as warped fever-swamp hallucinations about kids in imaginary pizza restaurant basements and Hollywood blood sacrifice rituals. The mirror world replaces RBG with Amy Coney-Barrett and calls it a victory for women. The mirror world defends workers by stoking xenophobic fears about immigrants.

When UN spokesperson Darren Melvik posts a provocative image in a private Facebook group, he never imagines the storm it will unleash. What begins as an act of personal frustration soon spirals into a global scandal, implicating powerful religious and political leaders in a conspiracy to manipulate international institutions. As Darren navigates the labyrinth of digital surveillance and institutional cover-ups, he is drawn into a web of intrigue linking his own heritage to a Cold War-era research program designed to control minds through religious symbolism.

I just finished Advocate, book 3 of Daniel M. Ford's The Warden series. I've been really enjoying this world. The first two books ended on cliffhangers, and the year wait between entries was killing me. Book 3 ended with a nice wrap up of one arc and a setup for another, both building up the bones of a larger story that's been looming ominously.

In the year in which the groundbreaking activist would have turned 100, a new book looks at the enduring impact of his words and how they resonate today

I ran into this from a Reddit comment on r/Futurology absent the context that it was fiction. This eventually becomes apparent, but the past couple of hours have been a wild ride.

Over the past few weeks, there’s been a flurry of “takes” on what people think we should do about libraries (one wildly bad idea was that they should be replaced with bookstores so people could pay 30 bucks per hardcover instead of paying their goddamn taxes and getting use of a community space). The response to these garbage articles was overwhelmingly in favor of keeping libraries open! Hell yeah. Let me tell you, though, there’s a lot more you can do for your local branch aside from posting a well-intentioned tweet. The thing about libraries is . . . we need you to use them. All the time. Get your ass to the library. This week I’ve compiled a handy lists of dos and don’ts so you can continue to support your libraries and librarians and library staff. I’m generous that way; you’re welcome.

“I recall Midwestern summer nights, standing on my grandparents’ hushed lawn,” Ray Bradbury told me in 2010, “and looking up at the sky at the confetti field of stars. There were millions of suns out there, and millions of planets rotating around those suns. And I knew there was life out there, in the great vastness. We are just too far apart, separated by too great a distance to reach one another.”

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Keep it going, guys.

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Are these gloomy forecasts about the modern information ecosystem just reiterations of old fears? Plato lamented that writing would erode our minds; the printing press was denounced as a diabolical device. Newspapers were accused of peddling filth and debasing public morality; television was going to rot our minds.

PASADENA, Calif. — Usually, Octavia’s Bookshelf in Pasadena, California, is filled with books. The walls are lined with titles on dark brown shelves, and customers can buy candles and other small goods, too. But for the past two weeks, the Black-owned bookshop has been packed wall-to-wall with supplies like bottles of water, hygiene products, clothes and food that are given away for free to locals impacted by the ongoing wildfire in the area.

The history of book bans in the US goes back to 1637 but has recently increased dramatically, nearly 200% during the 2023-24 school year. This rise is driven by conservative policies claiming many books have themes that go “against” American history. But are these books really problematic? The World’s Lex Weaver shares her experience attending a banned-book symposium hosted by Morgan State University in Havana, Cuba, where authors and historians discussed their worries about the future of education.

Paywall bypass: https://ghostarchive.org/archive/puBWi

Diversity syndrome is a cultural condition where the “otherness” of an author is elevated over the impact of their work, to the detriment of the author, their work, and their audiences. Much like structural racism, it’s more systemic than individual, though individual actions certainly uphold or subvert its existence. An illuminating case study of diversity syndrome in the real world is that of Black authors of what I’ll broadly define as speculative fiction.

This past year was as dismaying as it was disorienting (as was the year prior, as will be the year to come). As we collectively drown in a daily deluge of disinformation it is to books that we turn for something like an anchor to truth—facts still matter, and reality is still there to be witnessed. The following 50 books are just some of the texts that helped Lit Hub editors better understand the world as it is, and, perhaps, where it might be headed.

This web serial, along with its sequel *20020: The Future of College Football* (both by Jon Bois), explores forms of American football in the far future that are extremely different from today's football. (If you aren't particularly into sports in general or American football in particular, don't be put off—I know basically nothing about sports, but I had no trouble understanding the story and finding it entertaining). What I like most about the web serial is its depth. It was very clearly meticulously thought out and researched, including various interesting little tidbits of local history and geography. I get the sense that the world, and people's lives, contain so many stories and so many possibilities that it's inconceivable to comprehend even a thin slice of what's out there. Give it a read!

After a lifetime of bounties and bloodshed, Viv is hanging up her sword for the last time.

Following is synopsis of Justus Rosenberg's book on Kobo's shop. Thanks to @ProdigalFrog@slrpnk.net for reminding me of this text with your previous relevant post. The book itself is both pretty entertaining (Justus is a very good story teller AND IT'S SHORT) and you know, sobering and terrifying in that whole "witness to man-made horrors beyond all comprehension" kinda way.

Wikipedia TL;DR

Children's reading enjoyment has fallen to its lowest level in almost two decades, with just one in three young people saying that they enjoy reading in their free time, according to a new survey.

For the uninitiated, “shipping,” or the act of creating a romantic pairing between two people or characters who may not already be romantically involved, may seem like an uniquely internet phenomena.

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Hopefully. Join Bookwyrm!

Not only literature, but this still seemed like the best community for it.