I’m hard on books – not the content, the actual books. I bend and break the binding. I dog-ear the pages. I use whatever happens to be available as a bookmark. (My current choice is a sturdy price tag off of Big D’s pants.) I underline sentences and mark paragraphs with stars and exclamations – in pen. I bring them into the bathtub with me. I dribble food and spill tea on them. I fall asleep on them. It is a reciprocal relationship. I invite them into the disorderly parts of my life, just as they have invited me into the chaos of their characters’.
The book I’m currently vexing is Stephen King’s Under the Dome. It came to me by a friend in “nearly new” condition. It has survived two moves with me. Since I am not a very fast reader, and because it’s a hefty sucker, this book has allowed me to extract its story slowly with unconditional surrender to my reading requirements.
You should get your own copy, and do what you do. Use it as a potholder if you read while cooking. ** Do reps over your head with it if you read while walking on the treadmill. Use it as a pillow at night. Or, you could just read it.
** It is unsafe to substitute books for potholders and weights. Do not attempt.