applauded and congratulated them.
The cheers died down and I moved on to the first exciting topic of the evening: a brief primer on glue.
Holding up a small, familiar looking white plastic bottle, I said, “PVA glue, or polyvinyl acetate, is a book lover’s best friend. It’s sold almost everywhere. But beware, all white glue is not created equal. Be sure to look for the words ‘acid free’ on the label. That means it’s a certified pH-neutral adhesive.”
“Say what?” Sam said.
I smiled. “That’s a fancy way of saying that it won’t damage the paper in a book or cause it to turn yellow.”
Rather than try to describe the damage the wrong glue could cause, I passed around a book ravaged by a well-known adhesive that came in a tape dispenser. Wherever the tape had been used to repair tears, the paper underneath was stained a dirty, dark yellow. “That’s what happens if your adhesive isn’t pH neutral.”
“Gross,” said James, who’d announced earlier that he was a graduate student in engineering.
Next, I explained a few of the items I’d laid out at each of their places. “Along with PVA, these are the miracle tools of quick and dirty book repair. Most of them can probably be found in your kitchen.”
“Cool,” Trudy whispered.
I held up each one as I mentioned it. “Wax paper. You’ll need a few sheets to do most repairs. Next, a couple of thin bamboo skewers, the kind used for grilling veggies or kabobs. You can buy them at the supermarket in packets of forty or fifty.”
“We love kabobs,” Rita said brightly. “We go through those sticks like crazy.”
“Great,” I said. “And finally, you’ll need something to use as a weight. You can use a brick. Or a cast-iron frying pan. Something flat and heavy. And with these household items, you, too, can tighten a loose hinge on almost any book.”
There were some actual gasps and I laughed. “I know. It’s thrilling. Okay, here’s our first victim.” I used both hands to hold up an old cloth-covered book by its boards, causing the text block to hang down limply.
I walked along the rows of tables so everyone could get a good look at the damage.
“Are you avoiding me?” Robin whispered when I got close.
I leaned over and whispered, “Yes, you make me nervous.”
She grinned. “I feel the power.”
I rolled my eyes and kept walking.
“That’s just sad,” Ruby said, staring up at the droopy old book.
“Isn’t it?” I returned to the front of the room and glanced around, meeting all their riveted gazes—except for Robin’s, but I could hear her snickering. “Now I’m sure our librarians recognize this problem. Loose hinges. So many library books are checked out over and over again, then carelessly tossed into the return bins. Eventually, the hinges come loose, leaving the text block in danger of being torn away from the cover. So here’s how we fix it.”
I slid one of the bamboo skewers through the small opening in the glue bottle and pulled it out. “See how the glue is evenly distributed around the stick? Doing it this way allows for a perfect amount of glue, every time.”
Standing the book up in an open position, I inserted the glue-covered skewer inside the inner hinge of the front cover. I twirled the skewer a few times so that the glue was completely affixed to the inner paper, then pulled out the stick. I repeated the dipping, inserting and twirling action with the back hinge.
“Be careful not to get any glue on the spine itself,” I said, pointing to the space between the spine and text block. “Otherwise, the book won’t open and close properly.”
Then I grabbed two sheets of wax paper. “Slip one sheet inside the front cover and one inside the back. This will prevent any glue from sticking to the outside of the endpapers while the book is weighted down. Now close the book and take your bone folder . . .”
As I picked up the next tool, I paused and waited for the titters and giggles to
The cheers died down and I moved on to the first exciting topic of the evening: a brief primer on glue.
Holding up a small, familiar looking white plastic bottle, I said, “PVA glue, or polyvinyl acetate, is a book lover’s best friend. It’s sold almost everywhere. But beware, all white glue is not created equal. Be sure to look for the words ‘acid free’ on the label. That means it’s a certified pH-neutral adhesive.”
“Say what?” Sam said.
I smiled. “That’s a fancy way of saying that it won’t damage the paper in a book or cause it to turn yellow.”
Rather than try to describe the damage the wrong glue could cause, I passed around a book ravaged by a well-known adhesive that came in a tape dispenser. Wherever the tape had been used to repair tears, the paper underneath was stained a dirty, dark yellow. “That’s what happens if your adhesive isn’t pH neutral.”
“Gross,” said James, who’d announced earlier that he was a graduate student in engineering.
Next, I explained a few of the items I’d laid out at each of their places. “Along with PVA, these are the miracle tools of quick and dirty book repair. Most of them can probably be found in your kitchen.”
“Cool,” Trudy whispered.
I held up each one as I mentioned it. “Wax paper. You’ll need a few sheets to do most repairs. Next, a couple of thin bamboo skewers, the kind used for grilling veggies or kabobs. You can buy them at the supermarket in packets of forty or fifty.”
“We love kabobs,” Rita said brightly. “We go through those sticks like crazy.”
“Great,” I said. “And finally, you’ll need something to use as a weight. You can use a brick. Or a cast-iron frying pan. Something flat and heavy. And with these household items, you, too, can tighten a loose hinge on almost any book.”
There were some actual gasps and I laughed. “I know. It’s thrilling. Okay, here’s our first victim.” I used both hands to hold up an old cloth-covered book by its boards, causing the text block to hang down limply.
I walked along the rows of tables so everyone could get a good look at the damage.
“Are you avoiding me?” Robin whispered when I got close.
I leaned over and whispered, “Yes, you make me nervous.”
She grinned. “I feel the power.”
I rolled my eyes and kept walking.
“That’s just sad,” Ruby said, staring up at the droopy old book.
“Isn’t it?” I returned to the front of the room and glanced around, meeting all their riveted gazes—except for Robin’s, but I could hear her snickering. “Now I’m sure our librarians recognize this problem. Loose hinges. So many library books are checked out over and over again, then carelessly tossed into the return bins. Eventually, the hinges come loose, leaving the text block in danger of being torn away from the cover. So here’s how we fix it.”
I slid one of the bamboo skewers through the small opening in the glue bottle and pulled it out. “See how the glue is evenly distributed around the stick? Doing it this way allows for a perfect amount of glue, every time.”
Standing the book up in an open position, I inserted the glue-covered skewer inside the inner hinge of the front cover. I twirled the skewer a few times so that the glue was completely affixed to the inner paper, then pulled out the stick. I repeated the dipping, inserting and twirling action with the back hinge.
“Be careful not to get any glue on the spine itself,” I said, pointing to the space between the spine and text block. “Otherwise, the book won’t open and close properly.”
Then I grabbed two sheets of wax paper. “Slip one sheet inside the front cover and one inside the back. This will prevent any glue from sticking to the outside of the endpapers while the book is weighted down. Now close the book and take your bone folder . . .”
As I picked up the next tool, I paused and waited for the titters and giggles to
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