In 2014, an artist named Katie Paterson planted 1,000 trees in a forest outside Oslo.
When those trees are harvested — in 2114 — they'll be turned into paper. That paper will be used to print 100 manuscripts. Those manuscripts are being written right now, one per year, by some of the most celebrated writers alive. And nobody will read any of them until the trees are ready.
Not one word. Not a sentence. Not a summary.
Margaret Atwood was the first, in 2014. She submitted a manuscript, sealed it, and said nothing about what was in it. David Mitchell. Karl Ove Knausgård. Han Kang. Every year, one more writer hands something to Future Library, walks away, and trusts that the world will still be reading in 100 years.
The manuscripts are kept in a specially designed room in the Oslo Public Library. A silent room, built specifically for this purpose, climate controlled. The titles are public. The contents are not.
Think about what this requires. Trust in the future. Trust that books will still matter. Trust that someone a century from now will open this room and find what was left for them.
Nobody reading this will ever read those manuscripts.
That's the whole point.