I love a brand new book. I love the unbroken spine, the sharp corners, the fresh smell. I love knowing that I’m the first person to open the book and turn each page. I remember in high school, when our English teacher would hand out the next reading assignment, I’d always hope to get the best copy. I’d thumb through to see if anyone had underlined anything, written in the margins, or in any other way defaced the book. It’s possible that sometimes I’d even try to trade in a well-used copy for something a little…fresher. And I would never, ever write anything at all in a book, either a personal or school copy.
And then one day, our ever-thoughtful teacher (the same one who had previously—and formatively—chastened our lack of intellectual curiosity) suggested that maybe we should be glad to get books that had been written in. Think of those notes and highlights as helpers, she said. Someone else found this passage interesting or striking or worth remembering, so maybe you should, too. Well, she said something along those lines, and the idea really hit home. (Thank you, Ms. Ransford!). Ever since that day, I love to find notes in books from previous readers, to see what struck them, or what made them think of something else—what seemed significant or noteworthy to another reader might make me think harder about a passage I’d otherwise gloss over.
Not long after that incident, I started doing two things: writing in books, and keeping a book journal. I’d underline passages that resonated with me, and after I’d finished the book, I’d go through it again and type out all of the underlined passages into my book journal. The result, twenty years (!) later, is my biography as a reader.
Passage from Travels with Charley in Search of America
My method has changed slightly: whereas I used to just underline passages and then hope I could find them all when I flipped through the book while copying into the journal, now I have a system of putting a tiny star at the top of any page with a selected passage, and using a bracket to denote the beginning and end of the passage I’d like to copy. It’s much easier now to flip through a book, just looking at the top corner of the pages for the telltale stars. 
Passage from About This Life: Journeys on the Threshold of Memory
Twenty-some years later, I have a 157-page document containing the excerpts and passages of almost everything I’ve read that has resonated with me. I’ll admit that in recent years I’ve gotten very sloppy about it; it takes months, sometimes, to copy relevant passages, and I find that I don’t do as much selecting as I’m reading as I used to. (My last passage was entered in 2014! Clearly I have a LOT of catching up to do, and a lot of books lying around that need to be added. Writing this post has inspired me to grab all the books I’ve read in the last few years, and now I see that I have a lot of starred passages to transcribe).
If I don’t have a pen or pencil handy, I do something even more sacrilegious: I fold down the corner of the page and make a small tear where the selected passage begins. It’s not a perfect solution, but it works.
Passage from The Art of Travel
Leaping: Revelations & Epiphanies
I think these days people use Goodreads.com and e-readers to do something similar—but I still read actual, physical books! I think I’m just old and stodgy enough to be one of those people who will never make a habit of reading books on a device. Until, of course, they stop making books {gasp!}.
I’d love to know—do you write in books? Do you have any way of keeping track of the passages that are meaningful to you? Have you ever found someone else’s scribble in the margin and found their note deepened your reading?
I once wrote a letter to one of the authors in the top photo—and he wrote me back! And here’s what could be my geekiest post ever.
All photos by me.
Sherry says
It’s funny–I don’t remember saying that at all! Particularly since I’ve been a “oh the glory of a new book” person since grade school. However, I will admit it was pretty good advice. I now put a star on the corner of the page and a check-mark by the passage, so very similar to your method. A friend gave me little arrow post-it notes which serve both functions, and though I love the idea, they are never around when I need them. But a pencil or pen always is. I’m doing that with “Writings on the Wall” by Kareem Abdul-Jabbar right now, and the last line I noted was this: “What are you besides old?” I’m leading a discussion at a senior residence about the book later this month. I ‘m hoping that line will provoke a lot of thinking and discussion. Your journal is a great idea, though like you, I’d be years behind. My journal tends to be carried around in my head, and though I lose many quotes I would hope to remember, I love it when one just pops to the front when the time is appropriate.
Thanks for remembering and using something I said to your delight.
Jodi says
It’s so lovely to have your comment on my blog, Ms. Ransford! I’m honored.
I love that line from Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and I’d be fascinated to hear what the seniors say in response to it—if you remember, swing by here and let me know.
So glad to be back in touch after twenty years—I’ll see what other tidbits of wisdom from you that I can share on the blog.
Sherry Ransford-Ramsdell says
I will try to remember to add some of their thoughts to this thread. Of course, the answers aren’t nearly as important as the desire to have them realize that they ARE much more than old. A perception is too prominent, even within the elder community, that as our shells wear out, our insides are no longer functional either. Admittedly, that happens (as with my mother and grandmother), but as I have been talking with residents at Friendship Village for, I guess, 14 years now, I am continually grateful for all they have to share and give. What a largely untapped resource! After the year you were my student, I started taking my seniors to Friendship Village to discuss the community’s Reading Together selection. Part of it was just to get a different point of view for all involved, but part of what I called “Seniors Meeting Seniors” was to show that the residents weren’t all doddering and drooling and that my students weren’t thoughtless thugs. The tradition has continued since I retired; this year I am meeting with the residents before they have their generational meeting–they called it “to get them ready” for their discussion. We’ll see what amazing things I hear.
Jodi says
Wow, what an amazing program you started. And what a great way to get people talking who otherwise wouldn’t talk, at least not in the meaningful sense of discussing ideas and literature. I’m sure it was fascinating for you, as a teacher, to hear your high school seniors reflect on what it was like to talk with the seniors at Friendship village about the books. I’m so sorry that I missed out on this!
Sherry Ransford-Ramsdell says
I’m sorry you missed it, too. You would have loved it. My talk at Friendship Village last night went very well, and though the residents first kind of balked at the question from the book “Who are you other than old?”, they soon got busy writing. I had a two column list on a legal pad to read back to them. The marvelous thing was as I read the list back, things like “welcoming, giving, smart, funny, strong, sensitive, perceptive,” I noticed them sitting up in their chairs a little straighter and smiling just little smiles that said “Yes, we are those things.” It almost made me cry. I saved one word for last and ended with “And because we are all these things, we are also–tired.” They laughed and applauded. I also got to discuss with them an issue touched on by Abdul-Jabbar but, of course, most significant to me: How Betsy DeVos is deluding herself and others.” But that’s a whole issue apart from all this.
Jodi says
Thanks for remembering to come back and share this story. It sounds like such a great experience, and I wish I could have been there to see their composure change as you read back the list.