What do you "do" to your books?

Geoff Dyer's New York Times column this week is about what we do to the books we own—how we interact with them as physical objects. It's an interesting topic, as every book lover seems to have a different approach to the condition of his or her library. Some of us like to keep our books in tip-top shape; others, like Dyer, prefer that they show the wear of reading:

[T]he book should be in near-mint condition when I start reading it, but I am not obsessive about keeping it that way. On the contrary, I like the way it gradually and subtly shows signs of wear and tear, of having been lived in (by me), like a pair of favorite jeans.

He gives the example of a World War II book that he read and dragged around for a long period of time, to the point that the pages curled and the spine wrinkled—in addition to his usual pencil marks and blood stains (that part's kind of gross).

Me, I like to keep books as close to new as I can, but I dig the idea of accidental marks that indicate the circumstances of my reading. My Fitzgeralds and Hemingways still bear the price tags from my college bookstore, and I'm sure a fair number of pages in my collection have coffee drips from my hours in cafés (but no blood, sorry weirdos). Still, I've never made notations in anything, as I want any re-readings to be fresh.

How about you? Do you like your books to show wear or gleam brand new? Do you write in the margins? What book in your library is the most beat-up and well-loved?

– Chris A.

Photo by Flickr user Jon Madison