Hello, my fellow bibliophiles! I don’t know about you, but I’m a folder. I fold books when I read them. There, I’ve said it. I can’t be the only one, right? Perhaps I can defend myself a little…
Books are sacred. I love them! They give life, meaning, love, purpose, entertainment, a place to hide, etc. The list is endless. So when I get a new (new to me) book, I’ve got to smell it, flip through the pages, inspect the design, pilfer through the extras at the end, and dissect the summary and author bio. Once I’ve gone through this ritual (to be repeated with EVERY book), I can feel good about starting Chapter 1. Let me be clear: I do not go into reading a book thinking that I’m going to fold the pages; It’s just something that I do naturally as I sink further and further into Bookland.
Going into the first couple chapters, I’m careful to flip through each page trying to show some respect for the book. Then there’s a turn. I lose all bodily control and my mind slips into the book. The more pages I read, the tension builds. This is when the folding starts. Pages are turned quicker because my eyes are drinking in the words as quickly as my brain can process them. Like a ravenous book beast, I’m reading two pages a minute and flipping pages willy nilly. At this point, usually halfway through the book, I’m folding the binding in half. Unconsciously of course, but I do it. Honestly, I think I’m just trying to get further into the book. Literally and figuratively. I bring the folded book closer to my face until there is nothing left in my periphery, except the book in front of me.
By the time I’ve finished the book, it looks like it’s been torn apart by a paper-eating-monster. So, yes, I’m a folder. But, if anything, it shows how much I love books. It’s truly a compliment to the author if I’m so lost in the book that I damage it in the process of reading.
Shout out time: my husband got me started with the topic of this blog because my treatment of books drives him crazy. To be fair, he loves books just as much as I do, but he likes keeping them pristine. Let’s just say our library looks a little silly with my folded books with damaged pages that sit right next to his immaculate (has he actually read them?) books.
To fold, or not to fold, that is the question. I’m not sure if my folding habit is disrespectful or if it’s an act of love. Whether you’re more like my husband or like me, at least we’re reading.
What do y’all think? Are you a folder too?