I am Lonita, a 40 year-old bookadorer from Canada (who got four somewhat interesting looking novels for a total of $7.88 at the nearest Coles yesterday, so is happier than a pig in a wallow).
I grew up being taught that books are sacred cows that should never be marked up, bent, folded, spindled, or otherwise, because that somehow violated the book and meant you were not a book lover or serious reader. In university I learned this was the biggest load of crap in the universe. If the book belongs to you, if it inspires you, if it raises questions, or reminds you of other books, if it gives connection, then write on it. Write all over it. Notes in the margins, highlightered passages, arrows, lists, everything everywhere. To love something means to use it, and I use my books.
How could I then pass up an opportunity to participate in somehing that not only accepts you do this, but actively encourages that you do it?
Life has caught me up on other things, so this is (embarassed face) my first foray into DSW. I am looking forward to reading IJ (bookstore slow: ordered copy not yet in: most frustrating) like one looks forward to biting into the juiciest, tastiest looking steak ever barbecued by human hands.
_________________ "I really have a secret satisfaction in being considered rather mad." - W. Heath Robinson
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