The Subway Book, also called The Novel of You, was a tiny stab-binding (with staples) experiment with distributing artworks. I made a dozen of these books with an illustrated poem inside which I offloaded by leaving copies in the seats of the F train, my train to work.

I didn’t retain a copy of the book or the text inside, so I only have a vague recollection of what the work was about. The photo here is the only record I have of the book at all. I also have no idea if the book was ever read, as my technique was to leave the book in the seat as I was getting off at my stop. I didn’t want to observe what happened to the book after I had left it behind.

My feeling is that the black cover with no decoration would be enough to spark someone’s curiosity, since the book wouldn’t immediately register as a religious tract or other form of advertising. Nevertheless, New Yorker’s are exposed to a lot in a day, so it is possible that the books just wound up on a trash barge for wherever they go.