Today is an odd day for me to be starting this blog because rather than building my beloved dog-eared library, I'm donating me entire collection to charity. For the next few months, I will be without any pages to dog-ear as I move from my cold flat in Fulham to the sunny landscape of Southern California.Sending well-loved texts into the world to find new readers is a habit my mother taught me. Each month, we'd fill a large bag with every paperback we'd read recently and trundled off to my school. Mrs. Garcia would meet my mother at the front gate with a bag of her own, broken spines, food stains, water damage, and yes, dog-ears galore. In this way, reading became a community act. We shared the stories we loved and hated and lived in a bit of a literary cornucopia. No matter how many books I read, there were always more "by the front door".
And for a voracious reader like me, it was pretty cool. I never minded that the books had already shared their secrets. In some ways, I felt more connected to those stories. Sometimes, I'd force myself to keep reading until I reached the next faded crease in the corner. I loved dog-earing my books, but I felt even more satisfaction if I could dog-ear the same place a previous reader stopped. Over space and time, our minds had met and we shared that reading experience.
Sure, I did this with everything from The Boxcar Children to the Xanth series to Dostoevsky. Those who say "never dog-ear!" are downright WRONG in my opinion. Dog-ear, annotate, love love love the books you read. We live in an age when books are readily available. Find used books in stores, your local library shop, or create a book circle with a few friends. Share these dog-eared moments with readers who come before and after you.
And now I'm off to finish packing up my flat, watch the Sochi 2014 opening ceremony, and wish my dog-eared library good luck as I send it off into the world.
