Editor's Note

Cozy times are descending, which is excellent news for many bibliophiles. Fall is my favorite time of the year, and I am not ashamed to tell you that my sweaters and throw blankets are piled on a chair in the hall, and I will snatch those babies up at the merest hint of chill in the air.

Part of the appeal of cooler weather is snuggling deep into the recesses of the couch, cracking open a comfort read, and forgetting that the world can be something of a blazing inferno of trash. But I’ve recently learned that some bookish folks don’t read for comfort. They read to be transported, to experience people and worlds that they otherwise wouldn’t, and—yes—even to be uncomfortable.

I get it. Many of my favorite books have been those that are so challenging that the pages feel prickly. I delight in being dropped into unfamiliar territory, in feeling uneasy or appalled or astonished by what I’m reading. But boy do I also love a few hours spent with my brain absorbed in the intrigue of a cozy mystery, or cocooned in the spun sugar of a cheeky romance. It’s not an either/or, for me; I’ll give that 800-page literary behemoth a good crack when the time is right, but if it’s early afternoon on a rainy Sunday, the radiator is clanging out some good heat, and my sofa is empty except for an excessively plush blanket, there’s a good chance that my reading material will be as comfortable as one of those sweaters on the hall chair.

In this issue, read about African literature, the benefits of reading targets, unhappy endings, Milanese bookworms, secondhand bookstores, Spider-Man, and the curious phenomenon of not wanting to read—among tons of other great stories. Now, go get cozy, settle in with Oh Reader, and forget about the real world for a bit. And if you’re wrapped in the mohair throw from page 11—all the better!

Gemma Peckham
Editor
Oh Reader