Lost Cents, Dead Owners Book

I have treated myself to a new book. But I had to write it.
   I have often wondered why we do not have a numismatic literature akin to other realms of antique collecting. That is to say, a literature that explores the secret lives of objects (in this case coins) and our emotional attachment to them. With all the time, effort, and money that folks pour into their collections, I am surprised that we have not developed an introspective perspective.
   Sometimes we get snippets. William Sheldon comes to mind: He wrote about the joy of fingering through a box of large cents on the kitchen table. He described an idyllic scene of "making out the big cents." Sheldon also waxed poetic about the charm and beauty of an aged cent. It appears that he once appreciated the encrustations of corrosion with a childlike wonderment. Others have followed with reflective remembrances of their own, but few have explored the topic in any depth.
   Instead, the collecting literature has been dominated by guidebooks filled with rarity ratings and valuations. Sometimes we get heroic tales of folks seeking, finding, and eventually selling great numismatic rarities: so-called adventures with rare coins. This is fine; I enjoy these snapshots too. But why is there no literature on the intrigue that we all must have felt when we first held a worn and battered coin that was older than us, older than our fathers, older than our grandfathers?

Here is the proof for the cover. LCDO is examines our reactions to relic
coins and explores the corrosion processes that make these coins evocative.
Also provided are some guidelines for collecting them, but no grading or pricing.

 
   This was the book I wanted to read. I have found solace in other places however. For example, archeological studies -- if you can find a great writer like Ivor Hume -- can enliven any coin dug from historic dirt. Also, there is a generic collecting literature -- most quite dated -- that ventures into the limbic system of the devoted collector; here, I am thinking of Maurice Rheims and the Rigbys. So too, the museum studies group has produced some insightful gems about how old objects speak to us, many of them penned by Susan Pearce. All good stuff.
   But what about the collector who enjoys a common coin that looks its age and comes from the hands of regular folks who toiled long and hard to make a living? This is a coin whose only significance is that it survived. This, too, is history in your hand. Yet, few books are devoted to the complex mix of emotions that a battered coin evokes.
   Sometimes I find myself reading books about ruins and dug relics to get my fix on the remarkable charms of battered, old coins. Many of us can explore a ruined farmstead all day long. After all, a collapsing roof is evocative. So too, is the rusty nail that might be found on the ground whereat nature squeezed it out of the planking. And, a coin -- perhaps the only one from this site -- is just cause for celebration. It is a find! Unique. And, way cool!
   Where is the book about these coins?
   Well, I wrote it. It has been burning in me for several winters.
   This book explores the impact of relic coins on our psyche. It is a slim volume of 80 pages that will provide a nice weekend read by the fire. The coins are presented in full color on broad 8.5x11 pages with many provocative pieces that come from years of honing an aesthetic for relics.
   You cannot read this book without it changing how you view collecting. Non-collectors are likely to find it interesting too. I gave it a provocative title to separate it from all the guidebooks that dominate the numismatic landscape. It is called: Lost Cents, Dead Owner: Appreciating Coins in Decay. 
   Yes, it is time to change your perspective. The book will be available soon.