I bought my costly Kindle because I had to travel. It made sense - was more logical. I could purchase downloads where ever I was; carry loads of books in one light weight electronic device.
A year later, after some wonderful reading experiences via my reliable Kindle; growing to value the instant access to the dictionary, the inbuilt light facility which allows me to read in the dark and the ability to score my reading experience,
I am still struggling to fully adjust.
See, I love to share my reading experiences with fellow readers and although I value my books, I also enjoy lending recommended reads to trusted reading friends. On top of that, I like slotting my books in their rightful places on my physical book shelf, where I can see, at a glance (even in passing) the worlds and ideas my collection of books, though their authors (and publishers etc.) have opened up to me.
Sadly, Kindle just does not allow me to do this.
The Kindle experience has affected me so much I felt inspired to write this short piece:
Between the sheets
I long for the feel of your grainy texture.
Turning, flicking, I browse in anticipation of your promise
Sucking in your woody scent better transends me
Sharing you with other lovers increases my satisfaction.
You're bound to be replaced, some say,
by something more advanced – more appropriate for our times.
But what would become of the balance,
recycling, sharing of pleasures and planting of trees?