See that? It's one of my proudest possessions. A mint condition, hardbound, first edition of the Pennyroyal Edition of Alice in Wonderland, signed to me with warm regards from one of my all-time favorite illustrators, the marvelous Barry Moser.
This was my first signed book, and here is the second.
A signed copy of The Black Doll's Imbroglio by Edward Gorey.
Not personalized, as he was dead by then. I found it at the Gorey shop in New York in 1994, and even though one of my children ripped the dust jacket, she yet lives.
See? I can be merciful.
My third signed book is a copy of Misty of Chincoteague by Marguerite Henry.
And when I started writing and meeting authors, my collection really expanded.
Note: The yellow My Little Pony is Skydancer, who was a gift from author Seanan McGuire. I should have asked her to sign the pony's bum before mailing.
Since I stopped collecting Breyer Horses in middle school, I haven't really collected anything until now. It feels good to gather beautiful things, one by one, to open them and remember what it was like to meet an author I admire. Each of these books tells a story I won't forget.
Recently on Facebook, one of my favorite authors, Matthew Stover, said he wanted a signed copy of my book, and that was possibly the most flattering and twitterpatering thing I've ever heard. I'm still fanning myself. Of course, he has to sign my battered copy of Heroes Die, first.
Anybody else have a signed book they cherish?