What’s on my radar: when a cover makes me preorder

There is a very particular thrill to a cover reveal. I know there is for me. It is such a delicious moment. 

It is not the algorithmic sort of thrill, not the flash-sale urgency of consumer culture, but that quieter jolt. The moment you see a cover and think, I don’t know what this is yet, but I want to live inside it. I admit I do sometimes (not always) judge a book by its cover. I do not feel guilty for doing so.

Why the Classics still cast a spell: reading backwards in the age of the algorithm

Browse through the bookish corners of Instagram or TikTok, and you’ll encounter a familiar pattern: glossy covers, rapid emotional claims, and an endless stream of “must-reads” that promise devastation, catharsis, or shocking twists. 

It sometimes feels that the language of the algorithm values sensation over subtlety. Amid this noisy chorus, the quiet, deliberate appeal of the classics becomes harder to hear, yet more essential than ever. It is the reason that we return to them. And while some say it's about nostalgia. It isn't that at all.

Is "Performative Reading" really so awkward?

It’s the quietest rebellion of 2025: the reader with a paperback in a coffee shop, a hardcover in hand on the train, a thick novel laid gently on a park bench. Yet according to a recent piece in The Guardian, even this small, once-innocent gesture, reading in public, is now tinged with suspicion. At least reading certain kinds of books is. So, the question is, are we reading, or are we performing?