

Unlike the masses of unlabelled, unregistered books that lack the passport to travel, a book with a BCID has the ability to live a rich and full life. There are countless books on shelves across the world with a BCIDentity crisis. Who are these lost and lonely books? What is their purpose? Where have they been? Where are they going? And when they look back at the years gone by, the glaring question remains, "What have they done with their lives?" No one knows.
Here is BookCrossing’s version of a well-known life mantra many of you may have read:
A book’s life should NOT be a solo journey to the shelf with the intention of sitting clean and safe, only to be eventually stuffed in a box at an estate sale, attractive, cover intact and well-preserved, but rather to skid in sideways, corners tattered, coffee-stained and weathered with its BCID to tell the world, "WOO HOO! What a ride!"
BookCrossing strives to give an identity and future to the countless books that want to be free to tell their story. To the lost, the lonely, and the unlabelled, a BCID awaits their destiny, but they can’t do it alone. They need you, the BookCrosser, to labell, love, and liberate them.
Grab the books from your shelf. Give them a fighting chance at living, at adventure. Rescue them and let them travel the world. Make them immortal. Make them BookCrossing books.
Bruce PedersenO que era um segredo agora é uma surpresa. Durante anos perguntou-se quem seria o autor de O Meu Pipi, o blogue anónimo (e depois livro) que fazia humor com palavrões, obscenidades e ordinarices. Durante anos atiraram-se nomes para cima da mesa: Miguel Esteves Cardoso, Rui Zink, José Vilhena, Ricardo Araújo Pereira, alguém das Produções Fictícias. Afinal, nenhum deles. Afinal, nem sequer de um homem se tratava. Apesar de passar metade do tempo em considerações sobre o pénis baptizado de Zé Tolas, O Meu Pipi foi escrito por uma mulher: Sofia Saraiva, 32 anos, profissional de publicidade.