Ruth the Librarian and her knuckle tats are what America needs right now. READ. MORE.

I mean, right??

Now, to be honest, we weren’t exactly talking about all the important reading we wish America was doing. Like peer-reviewed science. Or articles from trained journalists rather than, say, pundits who work for news organizations who had to admit in court that they’re not actually news but are entertainment and thus don’t have to report, you know, factual content (coughfoxnews*cough). Or real-life experiences of trans folks whose agendas are are things like grocery shopping and talking walks and paying bills instead of [insert nefarious bathroom plot].

Now, listen; those are fantastic reading ideas! Highly recommend! Strongly encourage!

But, in truth, Ruth and I were discussing our insatiable appetites for cozy reads these days, for which I make no apologies. We’re TIRED, man. Like, POOPED. Fried. Weary. The real world has all the high stakes we need right now, and we’re already doing all the important reading on IRL events, so our entertainment? Delicious, please. Heartwarming and delightful. More orcs setting up cafes, and nervous middle-aged men discovering houses by cerulean ses. More murder clubs on Thursdays, and secret societies of irregular witches. More directions to small, angry planets, and diaries from murderbots. I almost said “more low stakes novels,” except I look at my mini cozy list there and realize they have the highest stakes, really. Discovering ourselves. Finding out we’re brave. Learning to see and embrace those we once othered. Refusing to remain invisible. Wending our way home, even when it’s somewhere we’ve never been. Dare I say… reading things that leave us happy?

Anyway, I’m convinced Ruth has her one-two punches set up correctly to deliver unto us what we need, friends. Read. More.

Amen.