I’m not a fan of literary technology. I prefer my books in their natural state – paper and cardboard. If they are bound in leather or buckram, all the better. I like feeling the weight of the words in my hands, touching the pages with my fingertips, inhaling the words like breathing in air.
When I open an old book, sometime I imagine smelling coal oil smoke, or tallow from a burning candle. I can envision the original owner, reading late into the night, engrossed in a mesmerizing tale.
One day soon, real books will be as rare as handwritten letters.