Reading on Weed: Books for When Your Mind Is Blown

These books aren't all about weed, but each title is way lit.

Literature and marijuana open minds. The former is a cultural vehicle made of paper and ink and words and ideas; a universal unifier––though books can be divisive just the same. The latter, is inspiring a cultural revolution––though don't look to weed to expand your vocabulary on its own.

A good read will take you on a journey, and has the power to elevate the senses, just as good weed can take you on a trip, while also enhancing your surroundings. Neither relies on the other for added value, or substance; but when consumed simultaneously, both pot and the written word will make you feel whole again.

The following six titles are some of The KIND's favorite reads to dig into post-, mid-, and-, pre-blaze sesh. 

Tokin' Women: A 4,000 Year Herstory of Women and Marijuana

By Nola Evangelista 

Evangelista, the book's author, is actually Ellen Komp––deputy director of California NORML, which means she knows more about weed than you ever will. Komp's cannabis advocacy began in 1991, as a volunteer for the organization at which she is now employed, but as the title suggests, women (like most of humanity) have been down with trees forever. And probably always will be.


By George Jung and T. Rafael Cimino 

To many members of the cannabis community, the film Blow is as iconic as weed is green. Of course, the Ted Demme-directed (R.I.P) biopic that follows drug smuggler George Jung is only a glimpse into a life lived almost entirely on the edge; to-later-be-depicted by Johnny Depp. Heavy, written by Jung and T. Rafael Cimino, picks up at a different blip on the Boston George narrative, but paints the dealer––mid-escape from a Cuban prison and on the run from Pablo Escobar––in an equally romantic shade of pirate. 

The Cannabis Manifesto 

By Steve DeAngelo

The Cannabis Manifesto's author, legend has it, got his own weed bill written into law as a "favor." DeAngelo operates an investment group that is partly funding the future of cannabis. He's also the brains behind Harborside Wellness Center––one of California's most well-known dispensaries. Whatever he's doing, he's doing. So, if you read The Cannabis Manifesto: A New Paradigm for Wellness––write in and tell The KIND how it was, and how to do all of that stuff, too. Or hell, write to Mr. DeAngelo and interview him for the site; pick his brain, report back, and you may even be paid. 

Just Kids 

By Patti Smith

This book is probably already on your shelf, or in close reach. Patti Smith's Just Kids is the book you read right after or just before the first time you break someone's heart. You read it from the backseat, while on a road trip with your family; with your headphones in. On the train, on the way home from the job you're about to quit. Smith's prose enters the bloodstream in waves, as if it were being consumed intravenously. And you'll read it again after that.

Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

By Hunter S. Thompson

You could read this gonzo-drug-narrative by Hunter S. Thompson on weed, or booze, or speed; you could take your time, take each page at a slow pace, or even speed-read Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas––and you'd experience the language, and arrive at a different interpretation each time. 

The Chronicles of Kibblestan: Revolution (Honorable Mention) 

by Andrea Rand

From deep in the k-hole of Amazon's sci-fi/fantasy selections: At first, The Chronicles of Kibbelstan: Revolution sounds like a title that would also be perfect for an Insane Clown Posse concept-album-series. The cover-art implies, at the very least, a trippy, fantasy read about a glow-in-the-dark tree-vagina. Maybe it's even something you would pick up by accident at a garage sale, forget about, and stumble on three hours into one of the most intense mushroom trips of your life. But a visit to the author's website provides a fair certainty that the protagonist trio––a boy named Ellis, a mouse, and a dachshund that travel from a "creepy forest" to an imaginary, red, white, and blue utopia called Kibbelstan––might actually teach kids to like, really love America.  So, on second thought, this book could really be more like bath salts: Stay away, or proceed with caution, or just be down to blaze with the dachshund on the book cover, and take it from there.