“And before long there will be no more milk in bottles delivered to the doorstep or sleepy rural pubs, and the countryside will be mostly shopping centers and theme parks. Forgive me. I don’t mean to get upset. But you are taking my world away from me, piece by little piece, and sometimes it just pisses me off. Sorry.” ― Bill Bryson, The Lost Continent: Travels in Small-Town America.
For such an old bookworm like me, reading a physical book is still more pleasant than flipping through pages in an e-book reader. I believe rumours of the death of conventional books have been hugely exaggerated. Interestingly, friends who were passionate advocates of e-books when they first purchased the readers are often returning to buying physical books. They do really seem to miss the feel and joy of real books.
I went for an e-reader and I’m very satisfied with its possibilities but it doesn’t give me the feeling I’m used to and like so much. I do store a lot of texts that have to be read or would clutter the shelves on the e-reader. But if you want to compare texts, rummage through books or simply feel cosy rereading a book you enjoyed a long time ago, there’s nothing better than an ordinary book. I am one of those people that will use an ebook on some occasions but I would rather hold a proper book in my hand no matter how heavy it may be.
Some habits become loved ones when you surprisingly notice that they are on the verge to disappear.