Hello darlings,

Welcome to our first issue. 

We started planning Don’t Read Books last spring while sitting out back. No one knows where the idea floated in from, but it was fervently alive as soon as it landed. 

It came with a desperation of something we were worried we might forget, which we have certainly forgotten.

By june we were studying vintage Cosmopolitans, reading Lydia Davis, and listening to audios of Chekhov. In July, our kitchen and office spaces filled with unforgiving heat and nostalgia—Shania Twain, Bruce Springsteen, Billie Holiday, The Beatles.

The Van Gogh book was revisited, Egon Schiele, and Man Ray were googled. Gnostic texts were read, and reread (and reread). There were people who knew about these things—art and words—and if only we could capture a little bit of what they knew...we ate rice—we ate xorta, and fresh figs, and watermelon. We tread water, and we dripped in the humidity. Finally, we did turn on the air conditioner. 

We’ve taken these summer moments—the tears, the hope, the inspirations—and we’ve poured them into our fall issue. An issue that is so full of life.

Ce la vie.

Many thanks everyone (always, and forever). Many thanks to the hundreds of submissions that poured in—thank you for trusting us with your work. One million hugs you all. 

Naste Kala.

Sophia Wolfe, Editor-in-chief