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books on-demand

One of my dreams has come true. Someone invented a book vending machine. A vending machine. For books. Put in a coin, get a book in return. A book vending machine. I’m figuratively dying.

The vending machine is a partnership with Global Vending and a school district in Buffalo, NY. A second district from Florida has also installed one in an elementary school there as well. The machines are stocked with books purchased and donated and can be “bought” with coins earned through their hard work, good behavior, etc.

All that needs to be said is that this is fucking awesome and I wish my school had one.

archaeology of the book tower

I’m assuming most people are like me: pile (or piles) of books stacked near the bed, on the nightstand, on the chair, books in progress, books waiting to be read, the pile changing in altitude, higher, lower, as books come in and go out. Many of these books will never be read, or will be partially read, abandoned for the new or the rediscovered. The ones that will be read will be cherished or disliked, put on the shelf, returned to the library, loaned to a friend, donated. The cycle continues. While the books may change, the pile remains, growing and shrinking. Is this familiar to you?


welcome to medium, where words matter

I recently got a subscription for Medium. Part blog host, part social journalism platform, Medium “taps into the brains of the most insightful writers, thinkers, and storytellers to bring [readers] the smartest takes on topics that matter.” Fully customizable to your own interests, it aggregates articles from across the site into a home page with what you want to read and articles you might be interested in based on previous reads. Needless to say, I’m kind of obsessed. (more…)

a reading from the book of jane

I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I’m afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I’d take to bleeding inwardly.
— Jane Eyre