I was reading this article on Boston.com today, and my inner bookstore lover rebelled. Perhaps I am too set in my ways, but the idea of buying a paperback book "on demand" is not my idea of fun.
I like books. I like the way that they smell, the way that they feel. I like browsing through book stores to find just the right edition of the book I want. (I don't like many mass market paperbacks; the font is too small.) I like stumbling across attractive covers to find an unexpected literary friend. I like opening books I have already read and rereading favorite passages in the middle.
When I actually start reading the book, I like to make notes in their margins and correct typos that I may find. If they were previously owned, I like to think about the person who read the book before me, especially the books that I inherited from my grandparents’ houses. (You won't find me reading a book from a Kindle any time soon.) Lastly, I like to hug them when I am done.
When I was about 10 or so, my family went on its annual summer vacation to Ocean City, MD. The second day we were there, I got a horrible ear infection (I was prone to these) and was taken to the walk-in clinic, where swimmer's ear was diagnosed. I was told that I couldn't go swimming for the rest of the trip. No ocean, no pool. I was very upset. The only thing that made it bearable was that my mom took me to the bookstore and loaded me up with the Bobbsey Twins and Nancy Drews and bought me a special bookmark with a rainbow on it. (Gotta love the 80s.) I read through all of those books (plus the ones I had brought with me,) and we had to make a second trip to get me more to read. My love for reading had begun long before that trip, but I think that time really cemented for me my love of hunting through the bookstore for just the right thing.
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