Just not a Kindle kinda girl

Ok people, I am very sorry to my techno-friends for what I am about to say: while I enjoy the Kindle on an airplane or when I am reading Fifty Shades of Grey and don’t want my kids to ask questions, it’s just not my preferred way to read.

I am reading Ernest Hemingway‘s A Moveable Feast and it is so joyously Hemingway in the short staccato word choice and sentence structure, with so many profound metaphors and messages on Life, and I know I can highlight, make notes, plug in a USB to print from the computer…BUT I want to hold the book in my hand, dog-ear pages to come back to and underline-highlight-make notes in the margins.

It’s just who I am.

When I was going into sixth grade, I took Marjorie Morningstar (all 584 pages) with me to summer camp. In our humid cabins, the paperback cover curled back and the pages became so war-weary but I loved that book. It sits still on my bookshelf, taken from my parents’ house as evidence of a stellar time in my growing up. If I opened it now, the familiar feel of those well-worn pages would be a comfort and a reverie.

You can’t walk down memory lane on a Kindle.

I know the arguments well; how many hardcovers and heavy paperbacks can you drag on vacation?

Well the truth is, I don’t mind if my shoulder bears a red mark from the heavy carry-on bag or if I need a bigger suitcase to take all the books I might read in those five days away. It is a comfort, a familiar friend, the way I live. I like to hold the pages in my hands and I like to see what font the writer and the publisher agreed on deliberately for the thick matte paper pages.

It’s just not the same on the Kindle. I don’t like racing to achieve 100% and I don’t like having to hit the Home button when I want to remember the title or the author.

I guess I’m just an old-fashioned kinda gal.

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