If I had the time, the energy, a rhyming dictionary, and a firm grasp of iambic pentameter, I would write a sonnet to my Kindle.
That said, every time I slip the nimble little e-reader out of its case and curl up with it in bed, I feel…well…it’s like I’m cheating on my books. I look up at the shelves and I see them, gathering dust, no new additions for months and I sense…judgement. Through the broken spines and dog-eared pages I hear the voices of my fellow bibliophiles, like Becca, who, upon hearing I had purchased said Kindle refused to IM with me for at least 20 minutes. (Incidentally, she recently confessed that *gasp* now she wishes she had one too.)
I kind of sort of started becoming interested in the Kindle last year, during the lazy, hazy, dog days of summer, when I emerged, breathless and wild-eyed from the writing of my master’s degree thesis. I researched the device when procrastinating and discovered that my local library had an e-book loan service. No, I didn’t want an iPad, nor did I want a Nook color. I wanted my e-reader to be as close to a book as possible, no Facebook distractions and no Angry Birds. I liked that it had a keypad, the screen wasn’t back-lit, and that it had free WiFi, making it all the simpler to purchase books whenever I wanted.
My crush continued to develop until finally I broke the news to Scott, a book lover himself (leave it to me to marry a librarian). (Full disclosure: The following is slightly embellished for artistic flare.)
Me: “I have this feeling, I think that I kind of like the Kindle.”
Scott: (Looks up from his book, something big, laborious, and likely related to politics or history.) “Mhm.”
Me: “No, like, I LIKE like it.”
A week later.
Me: “Remember how I told you that I had a crush on the Kindle. I think I need a Kindle.”
Scott: (Looks up from his book) “So buy a Kindle.”
Me: “Yeah…I don’t know if I should spend the money on a Kindle. I don’t really NEED a Kindle. I just think I need a Kindle.”
Two hours later
Me: “Yes, I totally need a Kindle.”
Scott: “You said that before.”
Me: “But I don’t think I should buy myself a Kindle. But, if you got me a Kindle for graduation, I could accept it.” (I justify most unnecessary purchases by making Scott my accomplice.)
Scott: “So, you’ll order the Kindle, charge it to our shared credit card, and I will have bought you a Kindle for graduation.”
Me: “Nope. I won’t order it. I need a Kindle. Like right now.” I go on to list the many reasons I need a Kindle. Immediately.
10 minutes later, I conclude my argument. Pretty much with myself. Scott went back to reading 8.9 minutes before I started talking.
Me: “So you can drive me to Target.”
Scott: “Why?”
Me: “Because they sell Kindles. And we need detergent, and I don’t remember what kind you like.” (A ruse.)
45 minutes later…Target doesn’t have the right kind of Kindle.
Me: “OK, to Best Buy!”
Scott: “Now are you SURE Best Buy has Kindles?”
Me: “Absolutely.” I’m totally not sure.
Scott: sighs. “OK then.”
We go to Best Buy, purchase said Kindle, I download “The Hunger Games” and proceed to not talk to him for the rest of the weekend. Pretty sure that was a Win/Win. (Side note: He called himself a Hunger Games widow for the next month, even though I finished the books in a few days.)
But alas, while much beloved, my Kindle is a needy mistress, and the electronic library loan system a fickle friend. All of the books worth reading have a long waiting list, (just one person can check out an e-book at a time, and there’s a two week check-out max with no renewal option). When the long awaited “your book is now available” e-mails do finally arrive in my inbox, they arrive two, three at a time.
These days, I shush my poor husband when he enters a room. “I have two weeks to read the three books I checked out from the library, plus my book club book,” I panic. I know that if I don’t finish “The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks” I will be bumped to the back of the 8-person queue, which means two more months of waiting. I’m just not that patient. I will have moved on to “The Buddha in the Attic” by then. And, of course, I cannot just not complete a book that I’ve started, no matter how much I dislike it or how much it stresses me out, (ahem “I Don’t Know How She Does It”).
So now I know why e-reader owners read more than regular book readers (somebody told me the number is around 30 percent): it’s the pressure. It’s the availability of everything in an instant that drives you to read the Hunger Games trilogy in a weekend (who needs sleep, right?). It’s light, dainty ease of carrying around a 500-page tome in a nearly weightless package, so that you can read it while waiting for the train, while standing in line at Starbucks, while at a restaurant and waiting for your husband to return from washing his hands. It’s an addiction. It’s a problem. And as much as I love books, I’ll tell you one thing:
I need to get back to reality soon.
(After I finish this chapter.)
All I can say is that was a really long 20 minutes… Also after reading this I’m not really sure that I am ready to take the leap to an e-reader. I really just wanted one because I could go around constantly looking at it like I was a crew member on the Star ship Enterprise… I love my books – I love how they gather dust and get all crinkly when I spill coffee on them… because – you know, I spill a lot of coffee and I’m sure the kindle wouldnt be as forgiving.
[…] my friend Susan wrote about her love/hate relationship with her recently acquired Kindle. I have to admit that this […]
Grrrrl, you need to get yourself some project Gutenberg http://www.gutenberg.org/
For realz. They aren’t new books, but they are free. You download them to your computer and then email the pdf to your kindle account. Oh, and Amazon also has lots of free kindle downloads.
You will notice that I have a preoccupation with free. 🙂
I love my boring 1st generation Nook…It makes me happy 🙂