5 January 2021

Re: How to tell your story so the world listens

Dear Librarians,

I thought you should probably be told that a previous borrower has left pencil marks in this little book. Their thoughts begin on page 82 and meander through to a final appearance on page 109. I get the feeling that writing in library books may not be to best way to communicate with the world, but I listened. Briefly.

While I doubt that vengeance is on the menu because librarians are all nice people, there are little clues should they be required by the Department of Chasing People Who Deface Books. We learn that the author was a caregiver at some stage and has a “bikie friend” in Boston. There was a bus in Nelson, bad things happened there. Statements such as “I was a visonery” (sic) suggest the high likelihood of disappointments yet to be realised. 

Page 105 is the big one, the motherload of pencilled comments. You’ll need industrial erasers to get through this one. Or an analyst. As readers we ask ourselves why has life been so cruel to this person and ‘How exactly did James K Baxter suddenly enter into the plot?’ The lack of exposition adds an unexpected layer of frustration.

Any markings following this page are but a reflection of the author’s scattergun scratchings, mere overflowed pencil onto page edges exposed temporarily by a bent spine. 

Anyway, I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t me. O’K?

All the best.
5 January 2021 Re: How to tell your story so the world listens Dear Librarians, I thought you should probably be told that a previous borrower has left pencil marks in this little book. Their thoughts begin on page 82 and meander through to a final appearance on page 109. I get the feeling that writing in library books may not be to best way to communicate with the world, but I listened. Briefly. While I doubt that vengeance is on the menu because librarians are all nice people, there are little clues should they be required by the Department of Chasing People Who Deface Books. We learn that the author was a caregiver at some stage and has a “bikie friend” in Boston. There was a bus in Nelson, bad things happened there. Statements such as “I was a visonery” (sic) suggest the high likelihood of disappointments yet to be realised. Page 105 is the big one, the motherload of pencilled comments. You’ll need industrial erasers to get through this one. Or an analyst. As readers we ask ourselves why has life been so cruel to this person and ‘How exactly did James K Baxter suddenly enter into the plot?’ The lack of exposition adds an unexpected layer of frustration. Any markings following this page are but a reflection of the author’s scattergun scratchings, mere overflowed pencil onto page edges exposed temporarily by a bent spine. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that it wasn’t me. O’K? All the best.
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