I know that it’s found me, because I’m suddenly where I want to be. I was recently asked on unedited TV what was next, and I didn’t have an answer. I realized that for the first time I’m not living among the infinite possibilities of the next thing. Somehow I ended up here, not knowing this was where I was heading. I’ve become who I wanted to be without knowing who that was. I’m happy where I am, and who I am, and who I’m around. I’ve found my tribe. I have arrived. I belong. I have become.

It brings to mind the Velveteen Rabbit by Margery Williams. As the Skin Horse explains, “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”

People become real too. Like the Velveteen Rabbit, I don’t know that any of us start off that way. We become someone real with time. My favorite people are real by this definition.  They got that way through adversity, struggle, hardship… life. They didn’t let that break them. But they also became real from love. The’re real to me because of how much I love them, and how much love they have for others. Though they are definitely well-worn, maybe some would say shabby, they’re beautiful to me. They have a story to tell. They make my world better by being in it. I don’t want sharp edges, or to be carefully kept. Real is so much better. As these special people in my life have become someone to me, I have also become someone to them.  And that’s the best feeling of belonging there is. They see past the holes where I have become unsewn and see something real inside that they find beautiful.

Real is not a thing you do. Real is a thing that happens to you. This is real.

It is truly a win-win situation.  They are THRILLED y’all. AND it’s seriously the most rewarding thing I experience all week. Some of them don’t get any visitors and they look forward to seeing us when it’s their turn on the schedule.  And they LOVE the opportunity for reading material.  Speaking of reading material that’s well loved … They’re only allowed paperbacks in their facility, and paperbacks have a finite “shelf life,” pun intended. What that means is that the books need to be replenished often.  They are very well loved and appreciated, and so they are shared from inmate to inmate within the block until we come back around to them with the cart again. And then they’re turned in to be loved some more by a new group.  Y’all the books are loved to tatters.

I know you want to help, so here’s how. It would be AWESOME if you have a heart to come out and volunteer with us and I promise the most fun and meaningful service act you may have ever experienced.  We do not have enough volunteers to serve our mission the way we would like. If you think you might be interested, hit me up on email at dogearedbookshampton@gmail.com. But, if that’s not your thing you can still help out! Since the books do wear out after a while, and we serve a large population, we are ALWAYS in need of more paperback books.  Those we serve have a diverse and eclectic taste so you really can’t go wrong, but, there are always some big hitters that we look for especially.  If you come across any self improvement or how too books, even old textbooks that are paperback are a great bet.  Dictionaries are actually the most requested item.  For fiction they all love James Patterson! And they also really like other similar books in that genre like David Baldacci, Harlan Coben, Lee Child, Dean Koontz, Steven King, Brad Thor etc. There is an abundance of Christian literature that is provided from several sources. We are not accepting books of that kind at this time. Dog Eared Books is a collection point for donations to the program. If you have paperbacks you would like to donate, they will be very appreciated where they’re going.

I’m sure you have questions I haven’t answered, but Darius and I tried to answer most of them in this short video you can watch here.  Also, please be awesome and help get the word out by sharing this post? Thanks a million!

Victoria

Yesterday, my friend asked about the excess of books I have stacked above the usable shelving, out of the way.  He was the second person to ask about them this week.  I told him that at this point their greater worth is as a conversation piece than as books themselves.  See, there is a story behind these books.  Right now, they are piled up, on the highest shelf, facing the wall.  All anyone can see is their pages facing when you look up.  People are more curious about them because they’re turned inward.  They wonder what books are up there.  Nothing special really.  All kinds of books are up there.  Cookbooks, art books, fiction, non-fiction, best sellers, one-hit wonders, anything. My friend reached up and teased one off the shelf to see what he would find, like hunting for treasure.  It wasn’t anything he wanted of course, and once he could see the cover it was unremarkable in every way.  He put it back.

I’m not one of those people that thinks books are a “decoration” or that their splashy and random colors and patterns somehow detract from the calm on the shelves.   I love the patchwork quality of the chaos that occurs on the rest of my shelves.  But these books, on the tippy top, are too high to reach.  I have to do most of the reaching on the shelf below that one; the lucky heredity of abnormally long arms.  Knowing that even I could not reach this elevation without a ladder, I faced the books in, instead of out, to make it obvious that they were not yet available for sale.  I haven’t even priced these books. I recognize that this lackluster explanation for my backwards books makes them less interesting and may diminish their effect on conversation.

But, there is a bigger story here…

First, why are the books there in the first place?  Why these books?  I’ll tell you.  Friends are great. Hampton is a very small town. And finding yourself, halfway through life, at a place where people rally around you and come together just because you want to do some dumb thing you’ve always dreamed of and have finally had the courage enough (turned breakneck crazy enough) to do, is as uplifting as it is humbling. This is where I have found myself.  And a friend of a friend knew someone whose friend used to own a used bookstore in the area.  And because I have, through no fault of my own, become special enough for my friend and their friend to talk about the crazy things I do in a positive way, their outer circle of people I would have never met know about me and want to help.  So, even though I have no fear of my steadily building first month’s of inventory, I make the calls, I contact the previous owner of said bookstore, and over the course of two days load carefully packed boxes of books in my car and bring them to the store.  And it’s exciting.  And it’s overwhelming.  And there are WAY too many books in the store.

In the beginning “unpacking” stage, I have illusions of organizing the shelves differently.  Surely more books could fit.  Then I rearrange some sections, moving whole genres from one end of the store to the other.  And back. And then again to a new spot.  Then I have more selves built!  And I rearrange books again.  By the second stage of unpacking I resign that I cannot possibly put anymore books on the shelves.  I’l have to store the rest somehow.  Up toward the ceiling they go.

The story ended there for a while.

As the days passed in the last few months I didn’t think much about the books near the ceiling.  I do think often about the premium commodity of space and my lack of it.  I think I have tried everything practical to squeeze extra books in where I hadn’t thought before.

But, without thinking about it day to day, I’ve added more books.  Of course I have.  I’ve added a LOT more books.  People bring in books every day.  I hate to ever turn them down.  Sometimes they take few out with them, and sometimes they don’t.  I’ve boxed up some books to donate to the city jail where I volunteer. And some kind folks have “shopped local” and bought books.  But, I’ve taken in a LOT of books, and I’m still taking them. The reality right now is that a lot more books come in than go out.  And that’s ok.  It’s a good problem to have by comparison.  I have a large, varied and ever expanding inventory to shop.  And the percentages tend toward my favor in terms of prices going out versus trade credit coming in.  I chose to think and hope that one day the scales will tip, more books will make their way out. But until that happens, the backward books will have to stay up on the top shelf.

Now when I think about the day I stashed all those books I couldn’t find room for, I have to laugh at how many more I have made room for since then.  It’s not unlike having your first child and loving them so much that you can’t imagine room in your heart to love anything more than them.  You question that there won’t be enough love to go around for your second child.  But then they’re here and you love them just as much. Or maybe it’s when you find your path and realize your passions in life. You laugh at the years before that, how you used to think you were so busy that you couldn’t possibly add one more thing, and realize you have, in fact, made time for so much more.

Fullness is a hard thing to measure.  But sitting with my new friend and laughing about those backwards books, I realized something I knew already.  There’s always room.  You can always make room for more friends, family, love, joy and goodness in your life. And books.  And ice cream.

Thanks for reading.  And thanks for encouraging me to live my dreams. Backwards books are just part of it.