I just killed an author. I accidentally tore her picture in the back of a paperback by her. I didn't mean to—I jammed it into my backpack earlier, and must have stuffed something else on top of it, but there it is—a giant rip halfway down the back cover, with one flap hanging loose and folded like the skin of some horrible accident victim. On the inside I can see half her face, staring forward in mute shock at such a vicious assault. Given that it's upside down, I'm surprised it isn't bleeding profusely from its bisection—head wounds often do that.

I'm not sure what to do about the matter. She doesn't seem to be getting worse, so the urgency of first aid is less that one would normally think in these situations. Maybe authors are more resistant than ordinary folk. Ideally, I'd like some clear packing tape. That should fix the would up nicely and securely. Unfortunately, I seem to be out of the stuff. I had some in the form of pre-cut strips from when I needed to send in my laptop for repairs, but they've either all been used up or misplaced. Scotch tape is probably too thin. I wouldn't trust it to hold my head together, even if all I did was stare forward all day. I assume that's all she does, but maybe she sneaks off when the back cover is closed—perhaps she hangs out with the authors in the backs of my other books. It's hard to tell if they live in the same house from just the tiny pictures we're given.

I've found some thicker plastic tape, the size of Scotch tape but almost as tough as packing tape. I think it should do. After all, to one of her size, it's even bigger than packing tape is to me. I carefully fold the cover back together, making sure to overlap the edges of the tear precisely. I think she would be most annoyed if she had to suffer random bits of paper fiber poking out of her face in an unsightly scar for the rest of eternity. There, the job is done. Two strips each front and back, meeting smoothly where the tear turns to the right, trying to escape from the healing influence of a single strip. That should hold. She looks pleased; she's smiling back at me. That's good. If I made her angry, she might not write any more books for me, and then what would I read?