The last four books I have read are:
Besides being fantastic, and a shade on the older side, and aside from having been written by superstars, the thing that these four books have in common are that they were actual books. By that I mean they were made of paper.
Don’t get me wrong. I love my Kindle. I enjoy reading in pretty much every form. But I have totally loved going back to paper. I’ve enjoyed seeing the cover art as I pick the book up. I’ve liked the sense of paper against my fingers, the almost brittle, almost sharp sense of the paper against the dry skin of my thumbs. There is a smell to a real book that a Kindle doesn’t do. There’s a sense of progress to seeing the bookmark move down the pages that a kindle progress bar doesn’t give me.
Again, don’t get me wrong: the Kindle is fantastic. I love it. I would probably love any other reader I used.
But I’ve missed books.
It’s great to live in a world where you can have it either way.