In this day and age, where everything is online, small and mobile, I still refuse to buy me a kindle. I can see the convenience of it; reading using one hand, comfortable in bed, whole body under the covers, just one arm freezing on the outside — out of the sheltered warmth of the thick quilt — with no need to shift positions when a page needs tending to. But knowing all this, I still stick faithfully to the old paperback.
I love to collect books I read; my own piling stack of accomplishments. I like to organize them in shelves, the books I love on one and the books I feel make me look cultured and interesting on the other (1984, The Road, Metro 2033, and To Kill a Mockingbird are all leaning next to each other on the ‘interesting shelf’ among others, while ten True Bloods, seven Harry Potters, six Song of Ice and Fires are lining three shelves that should have been one). Books I don’t like I hide away, stacked in drawers, hidden behind ornaments and stuffed inside my brothers’ room. A book shelve defines you and I do not want no [shall never admit to a particular title here] to besmirch my character.
Maybe I also stick stubbornly to my old ways because I want to be a published writer one day and if I’m going to birth my first novel I want to hold it in my arms, touch it, feel it, smell it, love it. It is my creation after all and looking at it virtually on a flat screen just isn’t the same. In fact, in my optimism I have kept one whole shelf cleared at home waiting for my own novels when they eventually come; my own golden pile of sweet-smelling projects.
And with that I hope that I have fully and clearly answered this week’s Daily Prompt Writing Challenge. What do you prefer; paperback or ebook?