I’ve seen hot debates in more than one group over that photo of really really long books that someone split in two to make them easier to carry. The reaction is often horror, and many people have strong feelings about dog ears, note taking, and other forms of “destruction” of the book.
This picture is why I don’t mind what people do with books they own. This is the flyleaf of my first book, In Every Port [Naiad Press, 1989], about 15 years after it had been passed hand to hand or was left in base libraries for others to find, and with enough information that maybe these women could find each other.
Had anyone split it into sections so it could be better hidden or shared, I’d be fine with that.
This copy of the book was gifted to me by a reader who came across it in the later 2000s – what a find, and how validating for me to see that my story of love was read by women surviving in dark places around the world at a time when it was unsafe to show anyone who you were.
Do I mind that they wrote it in? That it’s a bit water stained and pages are dogeared? No. No I do not. I do hope, however, that Arisha did get it when she got back, at least for a while.