I have loved books from a very early age. One day, I remember it ever so clearly, I was reading a very thick book out loud to my dad, possibly about the adventures of farm animals. I am not sure how young I was and since I don't have children yet, I have no sense of scale when children start reading on their own. However, he abruptly interrupted me and said something to the effect of, "you are old enough to read to yourself now - in your mind," followed by him getting up and walking out of my bedroom. I'm sure that my dad was really saying, "That's it - I can't take any more - get me out of here!" after sitting on my bed, lost in my hundreds of stuffed animals, trying not to fall asleep listening to me read for night upon night. I was left dumbstruck - probably by the end to the attention, but also by the fact that I needed to read to myself? in my head? That didn't seem as much fun. Although, I probably just shrugged and kept on reading.
Another memorable moment was reading "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" in second grade - I was so proud, bragging to lots of parental types. Not sure if that is really an achievement now, "kids are sooo smart these days," (rolling eyes, although I'm sure I'll say this about my child too - I swear with all the geniuses running around, why are we worried about the national debt in 20 years!?!) but back then it seemed like something.
Over the years, I've turned into a bit of a speed reader. I tend to skim over some parts that I find either boring or irrelevant, or when I desperately need to find out how something is going to turn out. I never skip full pages or anything, just speed through dialogue that I judge to be unimportant to the plot at hand. What's completely ironic is how lengthy my blog posts get - I hope someone out there has more patience than me to read these long diatribes (and enjoy them too). Although, I take great pleasure in writing them. Perhaps that's a sign - better writer, than reader.
And like any "writer," I abhor poorly, written prose with flat, undeveloped characters or plots that are disjointed or non-sensical. But, I'm not always a critic - it is rare that I encounter a book I absolutely loathe, and like a witch in a fairy tale who has been cursed, I absolutely must finish any book I start. I learned to be a bit more choosey after picking up one of the Mitford series books that my 70-year-old grandmother, at the time, raved about. The raving part should have been a hint. I was in my early 20s - let's just say I was not the target audience for this read.
I am probably half book snob/half book tabloid (or better yet, "book Us Weekly"). Sometimes you just need a "good beach read," which is a nice southern way of saying "a book that lacks depth and intellect; that doesn't require a lot of brain power to read;" kind of like reading a tabloid or watching mindless reality tv, which depending on the topic, can be just as relaxing. These are the types of books I can fly through two at a time, given enough spare time and the perfect 12-hour beach day weather.
Two years ago, my husband tried to get me to cheat on my books - he proclaimed that I was a "loud page-turner" at night, and didn't I want one of those new Kindles for Christmas 2009? Like an old curmudgeon, I was repulsed - I could never give up my books - never! (I'm dramatic, at times, so I'm sure I threw an extra one in for emphasis). I love the feel of the paper in my hands, the turn of the page, the weight of the book (or the cramping in my arm as I try to hold the book with one arm), how could I possibly give that up?
Well, I haven't written my post on all of my personal "rules" yet, but let me tell you that "never say never," is right at the top. When these words roll right off the tip of my tounge, people should start taking bets on when I am going to contradict myself, because the moment is not too far off.
Weeks go by and I hear from my sister-in-law (to be) about how great her Kindle is - she basically gave me a testimonal and how to use it pitch that hit me just at the right time - it was like the perfect storm for the Kindle marketer. I had finished up the "Girl Who Played with Fire" and had to order the next installment. The suspense was killing me (did I mention I read the first book in about three days?). I wish it weren't so dern cheaper online - and of course, I like to get the free shipping because it usually comes just as quickly, but I was sweating like a drug addict waiting for this one - and it finally arrived via the USPS. But, I still wasn't sure I was ready to say goodbye to books though, so this indecisiveness ended the deal. I cherished the stack of books I had by my bed, collecting dust, but waiting to be read, to be shared, to be loved - too much.
About a year passed and thoughts about that Kindle would come in and out of my mind like humming a catchy song - thoughts about how easy it would be just to download a book and start reading whenever I wanted. Soon, one of my best friends visited from Nashville and her Kindle peaked out at me from her purse when I picked her up at the airport - sneaky little devil (if it had been in a blue case, that would have been cute). It had a really pretty green leather case - it seemed so neat and organized - with a strap that kept it closed. She handed it to me, like Adam handing an apple over to our girl Eve. I tenatively accepted, absorbing the look of the e-ink, the buttons, the page clicks. I started to want one, really, really bad.
Soon after, I began dropping subtle hints to my husband, such as "I wish I had gotten that Kindle last year." He countered, "but you said you didn't want it." To which I replied smartly, "well, I've changed my mind." Hint taken - although not without a little trickery. On Christmas Eve (this occured on the way home from the tailgate), my husband announces he just has to go into Target and I can't tag along - he had a sketchy look going on - as if he was going to be in the doghouse. I naturally assumed he had forgotten my gift, and that I was going to end up with a Target gift card - practical yes, but not what a new wife wants from her hubby at Christmas. Plus, I really wanted that Kindle. He continued to play into my belief - making me more and more of a grump (or there's probably a more accurate word).
After getting home and as I'm wrapping up the last of the presents in a huff (infusing delightful holiday wishes into every wrapped present, I'm sure), he appears with card and gift in hand - but it wasn't a gift card as I had braced myself to receive graciously (of course) - it was a brand new Kindle. Cue the music and excitement, and the hand clasping, "a Kindle of my own!"
I still feel guilty about abandoning my old friends, but I must say that my e-friends are just as great. I don't lose my place and I can order more any time I want. So simple and easy. And, I think my brain is used to the e-ink and the slight flash of the screen that occurs as you turn a page.
I'm almost certain now that books will be a thing of the past, and this makes me nostalgic. I'm sure I was supposed to be one of those few who fought for books, who kept buying them because it was the right thing to do - to keep them alive, to keep them real. I fear the day when children will be brought into this world without paper books, never knowing the sensation of turning the page. I wonder if that phrase will even lose meaning (although we still say roll down the window when we're in a car)...
I also fear that I am in so deep with my Kindle now, with the compactness and convenience of it all, that I have strayed too far away from the paper book world I loved. I find myself annoyed with the "old fashioned" paper books - trying to finish them as soon as possible so I can get back to all the titles waiting for me on the Kindle - I may have gone a little crazy ordering books when I first got it - this may take a while. But, I know that old habits die hard and I can never truly convert 100 percent forever (oh no, did I just use the word "never"? Maybe my use of "forever" cancels that out). There are still those books, those masterpieces that require paper - book in hand, page turning (making noise, waking up spouse) and mind smiling.
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