Bookmarks: That history should have copied history was already sufficiently astonishing; that history should copy literature was inconceivable...

I am an avid consumer of books. In fact, some may say I'm something of an addict. I have a hard time passing bookstores and a harder time leaving them empty handed. As of yet I haven't woken up in an unfamiliar alley covered in crumpled pages with a headache, so I'm not yet prepared to seek help. This blog deals with a secondary obsession fueled by both experience and delightful concepts like Found Magazine. I collect everything I find in previously owned books (which is why I also tend to prefer to by used rather than new). Inscriptions are great, sometimes excellent, but letters and cards and photographs are even better...especially as those can be smuggled out of a used bookstore without having to purchase a book by Paul Riser or something of that nature.

Those of you who know me probably also know that this blog existed in a slightly altered form on another blog site. However, after a few consistently-updated weeks I was told I had exceeded the number of pictures I could post for that month. For some reason they also replaced all my images with an annoying gif of their own. I was annoyed by this and decided to jump ship, which resulted in several months of delay. At any rate, the first few entries will be repetitive for some of what I assume will be a very small readership.

This was my first find, ever. I was living in Rochester at the time, and the guy I was seeing wanted to go to an Ikea to get furniture. The closest one happened to be in Canada, so one day we took several hours and headed out of town. Of course I am more interested in the fake room set-ups than actually helping pick out furniture - eh, we wouldn't have agreed anyway. So I start inspecting the books on the shelves. I don't know where they get them from - donations, libraries throwing the last stuff out after a sale, maybe - but they managed to have a plethora of copies of the same boring editions of the same books. Occasionally, however, one would pop up that looked pretty hilarious. I picked up one called How to be a Good Husband or something close to that, I don't remember now. I called Jason over to laugh at it with me and flipped it open, hoping to see some great chapter headings in the table of contents. Instead, I found a letter from a woman named Wendy to her fiance, Dwayne. In case you have trouble reading it from the pictures, here is what it says:

"Dwayne -

Here it is! I'm interested in finding out what you think of it! There's no hurry though - we've got a whole lifetime to learn and practice what it means to be the best husband and wife possible for each other. Even now though, I believe that you will be the ideal husband and I couldn't be more certain that I want to marry you, or more confident of our ability to make a happy, vibrant, fulfilling marriage together.

I adore you Dwayne, and I remain totally, completely, absolutely head-over-heels in love with you.

Your,
Wendy"

I smuggled the letter out with me, full of questions. Was the book, seeming to be something of a gag gift, given away without Dwayne realizing the heartfelt letter was still inside? Or was Wendy's vision of their future tragically wrong? Why did she right what was obviously an outpouring of strong feelings on such silly stationary? The answers to these I'll never have, but it's moments like that, stealing a glimpse at another human being's total vulnerability, that reminds us we're not alone and endgenders compassion.

And just to make sure we're not getting too serious here: