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I’d like to preface this by saying I’m not a regular dumpster diver. I respect the sport, but never advanced beyond little league diving. I do have a bookcase, an inkjet printer and a slightly crooked desk map that were scavenged from the junk heap, but that’s beside the point. For the purposes of this story, let’s pretend I don’t usually stick my hand into piles of refuse.

I was coming home from a long day of work and commuting. A light drizzle was coming down. I ran inside to get my recycling and was just about to toss it in the bin, when something caught my eye. Under a pile of plastic soda bottles and shredded receipts, was a book, lonely and discarded.

I couldn’t just let that poor, defenseless little book get destroyed. I hope to write books someday, I knew how I would feel if my story was thrown away like an empty pizza box. So, I grabbed it.

The pages were wet and curling. The front cover had a little tear. And sure, it was World War Z, not Shakespeare, but I had to save it from the pulp mill. No book deserves that fate — not even Twilight (okay, maybe Twilight would be better as a napkin).

I’m going to read that rescued book. Every story deserves to be heard. If I don’t like it, I’ll sell it to a used bookstore or donate it to Goodwill, so that someone else can enjoy it. But, I will never, ever throw it away. Someday, I when I’m published, I hope you’ll do the same for my book.

— 30 —

Jonny Eberle is a bit of a book freak. He has far too many crammed into his tiny Tacoma apartment. When he isn’t elbow-deep in a good yarn, he’s usually writing or cruising the trending topics on Twitter.

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