The rise of ereaders and subsequent ebooks has led to people having more access to literature than ever before. It’s incredible, it really is. And in a world where trees are precious and accessibility is everything, it’s almost impossible not to have a digital presence. I confess, even I have succumbed to the allure of digital books. It sure beats scouring bookstore shelves for the next book in a series. But nothing compares to the feel of holding a book; smelling the paper as you flip through the pages; physically touching the story.
So, yes, I will be having a few dozen or so copies printed of every book I publish for us traditionalist that want to see our paperback-loves sitting on the shelf. But, I’m also a realist. If you’re not digital, you’re not there. Thanks to behemoths like Amazon/Kindle, Independent publishing is literally just a click away. A nice way to circumvent the middle man and the horrors of having an entire publishing house tell you how awful your work is. Some stories need to be told and this lets it happen.
Still, it’s sad. I miss curling up with a good book on a rainy day. Spending *cough* hours in the library trying to find the half dozen books that you’ll be bringing back in a week to switch out. The absolute horror when you pick up your book and the bookmark falls out. (oh well, guess I’ll have to start over.) Turning a page as you read the last line so you don’t break the flow. There is something magical in books. And while ereaders don’t take away the world they offer; I can’t help but feel that some of the experience is lost.