Is the question of what you're reading as important as how you're reading?
Publishers
and naysayers are whipping up a frenzy, comparing print books to
parchment and printers to scribes. Paper is old-fashioned and print
readers are out of touch with the times, they want to tell us.
Readers know better.
Naysayers need to let it go. There's a benefit to both e-readers and the printed book.
I have both and enjoy both. Some books I have in both formats, including some classics like
A Christmas Carol and recently published books such as
Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children.
Then there are the inexpensive e-books that sounded too good to pass up, like
Gregor the Overlander (by
The Hunger Games author Susan Collins) and
Random Harvest by James Hilton (author of
Lost Horizons and
Goodbye, Mr. Chips). With one click, I owned fascinating reads I could carry with me in my purse.
Also, there's the magazine advantage. I can read
The New Yorker anywhere now, and pretty soon the same will be said about
National Geographic. Will the pictures of NatGeo be as incredible on the screen? I'll let you know.
Finally,
there's the library option: just last week I figured out how to check
out books from My Library. Frankly, I love actually going to my library
and perusing the shelves, but when I can't get there, it's nice to know I
have options. Also, there's something decadent about downloading a book
to my Kindle when the library is closed, as though I'm part of a
special club that doesn't have to wait for something as restrictive as
"operating hours."
Does
this mean I'm eschewing print? Not likely: after today's visits to
Target and Barnes and Noble, where I walked out with a second copy of
The Night Circus (because my copy was in Carole's hands) and my first (coveted) copy of
The Wrath of Angels, I'd say I'm still entrenched in print.
The
reasons are many. I like the feel of books in my hand. I can read a
book anywhere, even when a plane is taking off and landing. I don't have
to charge their batteries. I like to see illustrations and photos at
full-size (
Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children comes to
mind). When I drop them, rarely do they break. I don't have to upgrade
them (although lately I've chosen to try to find better copies of some
of the cheap paperbacks of my college days so their pages don't fly away
along Dewey Beach, for example).
My
main reason, however, is because I want to own the book. My digital
purchase does not grant me ownership of the copy on my Kindle, but what
Jonny Evans from Computer World called "
lifetime track rental." Although his description was for music, it could just as easily be applied to books.
Remember the
2009 brouhaha when Amazon removed
1984
from Kindles without seeking permission from the Kindle owners? Sure,
the company refunded the purchase price and explained the reason behind
it, but it didn't mollify readers. I suppose there's a way to create a
permanent copy of a digital file, but it's not the same as walking into
your own library and pulling your copy off the shelf.
Want
to loan an e-book? Good luck. Publisher must establish loaning rights
to a title, and e-books can be loaned once for 14 days. (Those are
Kindle's rules. Nook just states that titles can be loaned between
devices.) The good news is you always get it back. The bad news: your
friends, family, acquaintances better read fast. (This might spell
trouble for my use of library e-books, considering I regularly renew
library books as many times as I can.)
In the end,
there's room for print and electronic books on everyone's library
shelves. Users can determine their own preferences and use accordingly —
which may mean choosing both.
Do you have a preference? How do you read?
