Are paper books sacrosanct?

I was reading Dear Author the other day and they had an item with the title above. Apparently there was a Youtube item where Lauren Conrad showed how to hollow out a book to make a small storage space. The video was removed after the outcry over defacing books.

I have a confession to make - I'm one of those terrible defacers. Several years ago I thought they would make a fun gift.

A place to hide billet-doux from boyfriends, or perhaps a back-up weapon should any of the recipients decide to become a spy.


My first attempt was a complete failure. I got hold of a tatty book that looked ready for the trash - a good practice book I thought. It was on a topic in which I had no interest. Yes, you've guessed it, I ended up getting distracted and reading the darn thing and now it lives on my shelves.

My second attempt was more successful. I felt far less guilt destroying a Readers Digest Condensed book. My gifts were made, I even lined the hollow with velvet (prettier that way).

So are print books sacrosanct? Well, I guess it's quite clear that to me they're not. However, I certainly felt guilt destroying them. Not only that, but I'll have to add a caveat and say, it very much depends on the book. If a caviler attitude to book was taken, where wold all the wonderful old books we have now be?

As for future generations, with the rising prevalence of the eBook, I've no idea how they will view hte paper book at all....

Playing with words

I came across this when I was looking for book making of material last week and I loved it.
Sometimes we forget how much the writers that came before us played with words and conventions, how much they broke the ground that we now tread. This poem from the 17th century is a wonderful example. Rather than write all about it, I'm going to let this video do my job for me :)

I saw a peacock with a fiery tail.

You don't need to be able to read the book, the poem is read aloud.

book poems

On my date with Satan,
we were talking dirty to the gods
and negotiating with the dead
in the skin of a lion.
How beautiful the beloved
stern men
circling the drain,
the women on the edge
of moral disorder.
Attention please now:
the girl in the flammable skirt
takes a streetcar named desire,
happily
minding her own business.
Her party of one
is a question of gravity and light,
her one hundred years of solitude
dressing up for the carnival
as beautiful and pointless
as imaginary words.
(Heather Kamins)

Very cool - yes.
Book poems. Janet Reid came across one, then ran a competition on her blog.
Each line must be the title of the book, as few extra words as possible. I've got some of the entries here. I was very tempted to make my own, unfortunately most of my books are in boxes at the moment.

(Steve)

 Finding What I Knew

In search of MIRACLES,
I left THE KNOWN WORLD
To go WALKING ON WATER
Toward a LOST HORIZON.

RIDING BETWEEN THE WORLDS,
I was a WANDERER OF THE WASTELAND.

THE STRANGER took me,
I was SOLD INTO EGYPT
Until THE GOOD SHEPHERD
Sent me THROUGH THE LOOKING GLASS
To THE THURBER CARNIVAL.

IT'S A MAGICAL WORLD, after all.(Gayle)


And a final one - short & sweet.

 round the bend, snow
on the road, slow is beautiful
almost there

(Victor)