True, true: “Sleeping with Books” is not high photojournalism, but it’s obscenely fun play-acting, and it’s coming from an earnest place—anyone who contributes to this series (you?) loves pulp enough to cuddle with it. Yet the record must show I did conk out with Sophie Crumb’s Evolution of a Crazy Artist (not a graphic novel so much as a sketchbook as autobiography). Then, I woke myself up to take the picture, cranky as a bastard.
That’s Deborah Harry in an IKEA frame overhead, and over her, out of view, Marilyn Monroe in bed. Both rare shots, both staged, all mine.
Happy Thanksgiving. Proper post on book nihilism TK.