One of the things I miss the most about primary school is the book club. You know, where you get to order books and have them delivered to you in class, with the order form slip inside. I remember how excited I got whenever the book orders came in. If I hadn't been so worried about my classmates' opinions of me, I would have sniffed fondly at the lovely pages. Nothing beats the smell of a new book!
I took delicate care of my precious books. You would never find creases in any of the pages; I would use a bookmark or memorise the pages rather than defile my books with dog ears. I used clear contact to cover all of my novels and often lent them out to friends who didn't take as much care. One of my books came back with a dried orange juice stain, and it almost made me teary. From then onwards, I put plastic covers over my books before lending them out (because, obviously, the clear contact wasn't enough protection).
I had a diary where I kept track of where my books were being loaned. I contemplated making library cards for everybody, but I didn't have a laminator and didn't want to border the line of scary and obsessive.