hildegarde lives in holland

Despite being nearly crippled with pain (someone please talk to my uterus and ask it what my shoulders, neck, and back have got to do, got to do with it), I made my way down to Printers Row for the second and final day of Lit Fest. It was pretty snazzy, but I didn’t walk away with any books (I only like to own novels I know I’ll reread, so I tend to borrow them, read them, then buy them. Just FYI.), but I did spend a lot of time skimming poetry zines at the Dancing Girl Press table, and riffling through prints and movable type. Here’s what I walked away with:


Wooden movable type, letters J, N, and M for my sisters and I. I’m thinking necklaces, ladies! I’d have spent approximately forever digging through these regardless, but they were feeling particularly special to me after having finished Fly by Night by Frances Hardinge this morning. It’s all about book burning and a secret, radical printing press and It’s wonderful and I’m in love with it. The image of Mosca Mye, the main character, wedged inside of a press, and then later running through the streets, covered in illegal, seditious text, has been sitting happily in my head every since I read it.

And a paper doll from Good Housekeeping, circa mid 1920’s:

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