Mid-December in Chicago. The city’s coming off a weekend cold snap that saw temps fall into the single digits, permeating even winter boots, sweaters, and thermal wear. The air’s so dry as to leave throats sore overnight, and noses sometimes crusted with evidence of discreet nocturnal bleeds.
It’s weather that makes me want to do nothing, see no one, just hide inside taking huge rips straight from the bedroom humidifier. I don’t even want to read or type, to be honest with you. But I do want this thing to stay regularly updated, so here I am.
In the past month I’ve notched two of the three books from this post. The two shorter ones, you can probably guess. I should have tried to do more writing about them as I was reading them. I want this space to be for something other than reviews. This ain't Goodreads or Storygraph, y’know?
So what’s on my mind as I continue to make my way through the larger book in the post linked in the previous graph? The hefty boy. The 1,660-page juggernaut. I guess mostly how goddamn big it is, physically, and how much I never want to take it anywhere, which is really getting in the way of me finishing it in a timely fashion. When it comes to toting a book around, I like to think I have a pretty high weight/thickness threshold, but theMystery.doc has taught me everyone has their limits, and I’ve hit mine.
First of all, I’ve found exactly one way to hold it for prolonged periods of time: at lap level, with its base on a pillow and one hand supporting its spine. Like so:
Immediately out are all the one-handed methods that actually allow for holding the book aloft, with either the thumb or the thumb and pinky as anchor points to keep the book open. And nobody enjoys holding a book with two hands. You want me to look like this?
Not happening.
The second problem, of course, is finding room for it. And since I’m unlikely to find a good way to hold it on the train, I might as well be loading up my messenger bag with a pair of bricks.
I’m trying to think what my cap might be for taking a book out into the world, in terms of page length. But of course size is also a factor. The paperback version of even a doorstop like It is easy enough to cart around. When it comes to wider, taller hardbacks, I think my max is about 1,000 pages, which maybe doesn’t seem like much less than 1,660 when you visualize it in your head, but 660 pages is a thick novel unto itself.
So, yeah, for now I read theMystery.doc at home, mostly here and there on certain evenings, after my wife has gone to sleep. As a book, I’m enjoying it, but as an object, I’m already ready to put it away.