nother entry in the “paper vs. plastic” debate – what type of books do you prefer?
My own experience involves the classic hero of screen and page, the cowboy. Everyone remembers the scene when the cowboy rides up to the foot of a mesa. Somewhere around here are renegade Indians/rustlers/banditos/whatever. He’s got to get some high ground beneath him for a look-see. With that, he slides easily out of his dusty saddle yet before scrambling upslope, he does what?
He grabs his trusty Winchester out of his rifle boot, ratchets in a shell and treads up the scree.
Yeah, we all want to be a cowboy when we see that. He’s got a handful of firepower, a cool eye to sight it and a trigger finger to use it.
The other day, I was over at a computer store. The wife’s computer wasn’t charging while on and plugged – it would just sit there. “Let’s let it run for ten minutes – we’ll see if it charges at all,” the attendant yawned. “I’ll get my book out of the car,” I replied.
So out to the mini, the parking lot hot beneath my shoes, the wind indecisive. I fobbed open the trunk, reached in and lugged out Patrick Rothfuss’s The Wise Man’s Fear. It’s 1107 pages of fantasy fiction, a hand-filler of entertainment. As I’m walking back, my fingers clutching its soft heft, I realized the satisfaction that comes from even carrying a book. My iPad is rubber-cased, light and not really pleasant to the touch. But this book, with its two-quarters-done spine crinkling, its cover crease (where I forgot it wouldn’t fit in my back pocket), and silky/dusty sensation, wow. It felt like a Winchester, its heft full of purpose. I plunked into a chair, kicked up a leg and unfolded this monster in my lap. The counter-girl didn’t say anything, so I didn’t sneer “It’s not Harry Potter, Love.” Yeah, I’m a reader.
And I do love the weight of a good book, especially one with new adventure a page-flip away.