It’s still flu season. Let’s talk about The Stand by Stephen King.
First off, I am a very gentle reader. I seldom write in my books. No broken spines, no dogeared pages (usually, although I have no quarrel with those who do). I try to keep my books in good condition, and they probably get most of their wear from shelving and reshelving when I feel the need to rearrange my library. My copy of The Stand by Stephen King is no exception, although you’d be forgiven for thinking otherwise.
Don’t forget the tissues.
It was missing the cover when I bought it, officer, honest.
This beat-to-death mass market paperback fit my high school book-buying budget nicely–much better than, say, the dozens of Christopher Pike books I bought at $5.95 a pop. (Those stupid cutaway covers are in terrible shape now, by the way.)
A number of my books from this period all have my name penciled on the first page, a safeguard for the time I loaned my library.
Out of Nowhere
I enjoyed drama club for a few semesters in high school. My first (I think?) production was a one-act play called How Reading Came Back to Nowhere, and it was about a little town whose villagers had lost the ability to read. We needed books–lots of ’em–as props. I wanted to help, but my battered copy of The Stand needed a survival plan.
Back from the Brink
Layering Scotch tape over the title page did the trick. It’s almost the same thickness and durability as any mass market paperback cover, and it survived the play and another twenty years of bookcase shuffles and is generally ready for anything.
In the event of pandemic superflu, though, I recommend finding something else to read.
Thanks for reading! In a couple weeks, I’ll tell you about the time I got sage career advice from one of my favorite authors–before I had read any of her books!
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