Self-publishing will near its apotheosis in author Shelley Jackson’s latest story, “Skin.” This extremely limited, you might say leather-bound, edition will exist solely as a series of one-word tattoos to be inked upon the very selves of a number of volunteers who are just now lining up for the cause of literature. A short story with body odor, a short story that thinks, a short story that will get hungry and, sadly, die. Ms. Jackson, who already has an ampersand and the story’s title, “Skin,” tattooed on her, er, skin, has tried to prepare for her work’s mortality. In the call for participants she states, “As words die the story will change; when the last word dies the story will also have died. The author will make every effort to attend the funerals of her words.” To make literature an indelible part of your life, visit ineradicablestain.com/skin.htm.