Blogging on paper

As I think I have mentioned before, I tend to read a lot of print magazines, probably more so than on-line magazines. Yes, the dead-tree version of things seems to appeal to me, since I can read them anywhere, not just where I have internet access and a glowing screen. That’s why I found the article in Poets & Writers (which doesn’t appear to be up on the web yet) about a Journal Project,
called 1000 journals. This person released journals into the wild, and had them passed around, and written in. He said, in the interview that “everyone has something to say” and that this project taps into the same creative impulse as blogging. He had different people design the covers, and either passed them around to friends, or left them here and there for people to find. According to the article, only one has made it back to him. Although the article says that you can still sign up to get a turn at the journals, in reality, I wasn’t able to find any that were “loose” and there wasn’t a long list of people in line for it. It was almost as though the article was written about something that people couldn’t participate in anymore, which was a drag.

This reminded me of BookCrossing, which releases books in the wild. But unlike the journals, these books are supposed to continue to be passed on. More books are being added all the time, so it isn’t a closed loop. I looked up see if any had been released near me, and found only one, but hey. There’s hope, and the website tells you how you can set up your own book and how to release it. (although this part looks like a quick way to make money).

I’m not sure if I could give up any books, at least not ones I bought for myself. No, I take that back, I have given up books before, given them to libraries, sold them back to bookstores, given them to my daughters school. So, I guess I should just do this instead, and see where it goes. Still, it would be nice if it were a combination of the two, a book with notes in the margins, passed around, and enjoyed, rather like article in the recent New Yorker about Anthony Lane getting his uncle’s collection of P. G. Woodehouse, with all the margin notes. (unfoundedly there doesn’t appear to be a direct link to this article.)

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