The other day, in a workshop with Sarabande Books, someone shared the story of a librarian discovering a taco in the center of a book.
A taco.
Squished in the pages.
A taco.
Note: This is the actual image. Here is the link to the taco story (and other horrific “bookmark” offenses).
I’m thinking this a ticketed offense.
Forget book-banning and charging librarians for providing access to literature, a rant I could blog about for all of time.
I’m imagining the yuck and guck librarians discover within pages and on shelves.
Even though I’ve stacks of bookmarks, mostly free from libraries and writing conferences, I rarely use them. I mean, I rarely use these cleverly quipped card-stock objects to track my reading progress.
I use many other items in place of bookmarks, though I’ve never used a taco.
Currently, I’m in the middle of eight books, give or take.
My bookmark tracking started last month when I returned to Writing Begins with Breath by Laraine Herring. I searched for a quote from the book to include in the Musings & Movement monthly newsletter (sign-up here) offered from Gayle Brandeis and myself. Here’s the quote:
And while I searched for the quote, I found a bookmark, though not placed as a marker in order to return to my previous reading session, but instead, my form of “dog-earring” (another ticketed offense) an important page.
The bookmark? An unused Barnes & Noble gift card, dated 2015 for $25 and yes, it still worked, cashed in by my son for a fresh read.
So I photoed the bookmarks from my current stack for you.
I’ve a note from The Rumpus, letting me know my Letters in the Mail subscription was about to expire. Sometimes, I use one of the letters to save my place. These writings are stuffed with insight and inspiration, so yes, I’m still a subscriber. This month’s letter, six pages, included pictures, from Sequoia Nagamatsu! Priceless.
My hospital allergy wrist band from my most recent surgery, April 19th, 2023, which I’ve not told many people about (yet) as I’m still recovering and healing and adapting. Sometimes I forget I’ve allergies, like Sulfa drugs and Codeine, which could turn even a simple procedure deadly.
There is, to my delight, the ribbon-in-the-book, such as in my Dear Universe, 200 Mini-Meditations for Instant Manifestations by Sarah Prout, which, technically, I’m not “reading,” but instead, referring.
Some of my most treasured bookmarks include little notes from my Miracle Son, Zach. This one he left on my nightstand after my rough day with high pain and a low mood.
I’ve a coaster reminding me to love. Always.
And a nifty metal-art bookmark that clips to the pages.
And an emery board, though I rarely locate these devices when I’ve a snagged nail.
And numerous fortunes which have yet to come true, but still, I save them, repurposed for place-keeping between pages.
Now I’ll share a secret with you.
The secret to finishing. Most anything.
The act of finishing is often built on momentum and can relate to, yes, bookmarks.
In March of 2007, I worked with coach E. Dan Smith, author of Your Lifebuilder. I loved his work and sought his coaching as I continued to hone my skills as a Life Coach and Fitness Professional. In one of our sessions, a time I felt “stuck” and unable to finish several projects, Dan asked, “How many books are on your nightstand right now? Books you are in the middle of reading?”
I counted. I’m sure there were more than eight, but I don’t remember the number.
“Bookmark each one,” he suggested, and, “Shelf all but one. Finish reading just one book. And then another. One at a time.”
The idea garnered a feeling of finishing. I understood the technique as an Empowerment Coach, offering similar approaches for my own clients, suggesting spaces they felt they could “tackle” and “finish,” like clearing a junk drawer or one shelf in the fridge.
Once you finish one thing, there’s movement and a sense of completion, which propels you to begin finishing.
Today, 16 years later, I’ll incorporate this concept, move my half-read reads to shelves and dive all the way into just one book, which, once done, I find that I’ve completed other tasks, like editing another chapbook or a project on the home-front, such as resurfacing a desk for the spare room.
So, if you’ve a stack of reads and another stack of stubborn projects to finish, you might try this Bookmark Approach.
Note: This year, at AWP, which coincided with the pre-launch of my memoir-in-verse, Tangled by Blood (Moon Tide Press), I designed “business cards,” coordinated with the tone and mood of my book.
Yes. My business card is—you guessed—a bookmark.

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I enjoyed reading your bookmark essay. I can relate! Thank you for sharing your beautiful writing.
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