My nephew had an assignment for his 1st grade class to ship a flattened version of himself (a la Flat Stanley) to someone out of state. I took Flat Henry all around the Bay Area and beyond.
I love books, period. The smell that emanates from a new book, cracked open for the first time, the smell of a dusty, forlorn and forgotten tome, the substantiality of paper, the font chosen just for this particular story, etc. etc. etc.