I have come across something probably long known to literary people in the UK: the mystery of the art creator/giver in Edinburgh. An anonymous artist has created a series of book sculptures, often linked in some way to Ian Rankin, and left them in various spots around Edinburgh. They are extraordinarily beautiful and it is a joy to think that someone would take so much care, produce something so wonderful, and then give it away. They are so intricate and, I imagine, delicate, I can’t imagine how the artist managed to smuggle them in to their various hidden spots. I love them all, perhaps the dragon is my favourite? Look at them at the fabulous io9 post.