So, are you?
It all started with this (with permission to post):
Most people I meet think I’m crazy for being so fanatical about how my books are handled. I don’t like spine creases, dog ears, ripped pages, food stains, etc. It’s gotten so bad that people don’t even ask to borrow my books anymore because I flip. I honestly grab the book, glare, rant for 5 minutes – HOW DID THIS HAPPEN TO THE COVER? DID YOU EAT THE PAGES? WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT TO MY BOOK? WHY! – and then tell them they’re not allowed to borrow my books anymore.
As you can see from the above Tweet, Elizabeth and I can never be book sharing buddies 😛 I’ll read everything she writes, but she’ll never be allowed to borrow my copy lol
Initially, it was just something I did, didn’t really think about why. I’m neurotic *shrug*
But, I realized I’m like that with ALL my belongings. (I got in an argument with a girl in 7th grade because she borrowed my crayon and wasn’t coloring with it properly. SHE WAS SMASHING DOWN THE TIP!) And I’ve figured out WHY.
It’s ingrained in me – has been for YEARS. When we came to America (I was five years old) and my parents were essentially restarting their lives. They had to find jobs, a place to live, a school for me, food & clothing even when they didn’t have jobs. We started by staying with my aunt, uncles, 2 cousins, my aunt’s parents, and her brothers.
‘Twas pretty crowded, Internet.
That being said, toys and EXTRAS were few and far in between. I remember one year, I was about six or seven, I picked up a Mermaid Barbie,
(The old ones that looked like this)
but, at first Mom said no. Then, she said, “Fine, but that’s for your birthday AND Christmas.” (I was born in March) <– Do you know how many kids that would devastate today? I didn’t think much about it. Either, I didn’t care and was too excited about IT’S A MERMAID, or it didn’t sink in what that meant.
But, because it was one of the few dolls I had, I took care – or tried to take care of it. (Most of the dolls I have are still in their boxes because my grandmother didn’t want me to take them out and “destroy them” -.-)
But, anyway, THE POINT IS, this is probably why I’m a teensy-teeny-weeny-TINY bit crazy about my books.
How about you? How do you treat yours books? Is there a deep psychological reason are you crazy like the rest of us?
(Luckily RETURNING THE FAVOR is published as an eBook and I don’t have to worry about all that ;P)