Every now and then, a fragment of a book I once loved will swim toward the front of my brain. Just a floating wisp of a memory — a detail, a scene, a feeling.
My brain wants to get around that wisp and pull, see what it's attached to, but instead the memory gives a little kick and swims away.
I read a lot as a child. In sixth grade, I spent the first half of the year illegally in the school library, reading novels. (This is what can happen in an experimental school.)
By the time my teachers tracked me down I had nearly flunked math but I had gotten a lot of reading done, so you can believe that there are many fragments of books in this brain case of mine.
One fragment nagged me for a long time. All I could remember was that the book was about a girl who was somehow separated from her parents. There was a magic marble. At the end of the book the family, somehow reunited, moved into a new house and the marble rolled beneath the front porch where nobody could reach it. The magic was no longer needed. The family was together again, and home.
But that is all I could remember. Not the title. Not the author. Not, really, the plot. Just that magic marble.
And so I turned to Stump the Bookseller, a website run by the enterprising folks at Loganberry Books near Cleveland. On the Loganberry blog (loganberrybooks.com/stumpthebookseller/) you can post whatever you remember about a book in hopes that someone else will see your post and fill in the blanks. The answers don't necessarily come from the booksellers — they come from other readers. Crowdsourcing at its finest.
Once you start reading the site, it's hard to stop. The queries are fascinating, shot through with feelings of desperation and frustration. You can feel the posters' angst, their need to recapture these books.