by Here’s my question for you: is it possible to steal something that is intended to be freely given away?
I think the answer is yes. And here’s why.
Setting the Scene
You know I love my Little Free Library. I spend a lot of time looking for cheap (best of all, free) quality books to pass a long. Special New York Times sections, like the recent 1619 Project insert, are shared via my LFL. I shop Goodwill, beg friends for castoff books, and cull my own library.
Yesterday afternoon, late, I took a bag of books to the curb. I’d noticed that the current selection had been languishing for a bit, so some refreshing was in order. There’s some curation involved. My LFL has two shelves, and I reserve the top one for adult books. The bottom one, which was placed at a tested four-year-old height, is where I put children’s and young adult lit books.
The other day at Goodwill, I’d come across a copy of The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. This is an amazing, award-winning young adult novel; the main character, Liesel Meminger, is a young book lover, avid reader, and orphan and we readers grow with her as she navigates living in World War II-era Germany during the Holocaust. The price was good, so I bought the hardback book but once home, I discovered some young person had thoroughly “annotated” its pages. The comments–for example, “I don’t think this is such a good idea, do you?”–were randomly hilarious, so I scribbled a Post-It warning, stuck it on the cover, and added The Book Thief to that bottom shelf.
The Crime (?)
This morning, I set off to meet my friend for our weekly mentoring session (yea, tacos!). My route to breakfast takes me right down my street and past another Little Free Library, about two or three blocks from my house. Now, we are the only two privately-owned LFL within a good mile or two radius (a couple of nearby businesses have one) and I can’t pass a LFL without looking. So as I sauntered by, I cast a quick glance to see what treasures my neighbors were sharing.
Front and center: The Book Thief. Sporting my note.
Reader, I stopped. I stared. I thought.
I reviewed. The book was in my library after 4 p.m. The current time was 7:45 a.m. The next morning. No one had read that book. It had miraculously walked from one library to the next.
Previously, I’d noticed other books migrating from my LFL to this one. Though skeptical, I’d given the benefit of the doubt: We’re all readers and someone is re-sharing with a different library. But . . . that book wasn’t read and shared. It was relocated.
Should I be gracious? Perhaps someone had picked it up. As they walked along, they flipped through and, over a block or two, changed their mind and voila! Another LFL. So they simply unloaded (at 552 pages, it’s a hefty book).
However, the ungracious part of me was loudly speaking: “These folks are using your books to stock their library, Leah.” To add insult to injury, I feed their Little Free Library, too. You see, until I put up mine, I often borrowed and replaced from theirs. I still do. So I make a point to drop off books.
Possible Resolutions
I’ve been pondering options.
Short term solution: I took the book. It’s in my house pile and, at some point, I’ll return it to my Little Free Library (Post-It still attached). Seems only fair–after all, I’d bought it for someone to enjoy, and that hadn’t happened yet.
Long term? Well, I’m not going to quit stocking my Little Free Library. So I have to imagine the situation will arise again. Because it’s been happening repeatedly. No, I hadn’t imagined my books being re-homed to this particular location.
In the past, I let it go. But turning a blind eye doesn’t resolve my issue. I’m spending time and money to provide free, shared reading to the community, not running a warehouse. If I’m not okay with someone taking advantage of my time and money, I’ve got to do something.
But what?
I could leave a note. Nah–that’s not me. Too passive. And problematic–what if the note didn’t make it to the right person? What if the homeowner isn’t who’s moving the books? And the contents; how does “I think you’re taking my books and please stop” sound anything but petulant?
This, I think, is best: stop by and introduce myself. Chat, one bibliophile to another. I could share my appreciation for their Little Free Library. Once we know one another, lifting books might feel wrong. Or our conversation might provide an opportunity to ask advice about solving the case of my traveling books.
I would use this stamp!
https://littlefreelibrary.myshopify.com/collections/all-products/products/customizable-artisan-stamp
What would I do? I would pick one LFL to be “my” library and stay away from other libraries within, say, a ten mile radius. This approach will reduce the annoyance of “book lifting” that you experienced.
I have some other observations. First, this relocation of a book is not too upsetting. Think of what people could do…pour tomato juice over the books in the LFL; set fire to the LFL; empty the LFL of all the books and throw them in a nearby trash. Taking a book and relocating it is much less upsetting.
Second, it occurs to me that a reader took your book with post it note, intending to read it. On the way home, the reader looked at at the interior markings and decided they were too distracting and decided to set the book in the nearest LFL for someone to deal with. The concept of “thievery” would be replaced with the more benign “change of mind” regarding the book.
Hope this keeps the ball rolling.
I would feel fairly confident that it is not the owner of the other little library who is taking the books. I feel like it’s just some lazy neighborhood walker who picks up the book, thumbs through it, and decides, in the period of time it takes to walk to the next house, that they don’t really want to read it. Do you ever get books deposited? Maybe when that person walks the opposite direction?