Paperless

I used to be a bookseller. I worked in little bookstores and big bookstores, on college campuses and in shopping malls. I participated in the growth of the big-box stores that now dominate bookselling, helping to set up a few of them. Don't like those stores? Don't worry, they won't be around for long. Even while I was working there I used to tell my co-workers that our jobs would soon be joining scriveners and icemen in the dustbin of history. Someday we'd all have electronic tablets, I'd say, and when we wanted a new book we'd use it to go to the bookseller's website, buy it, and have it in our hand in seconds. Someday is a lot closer now. Amazon's new Kindle may not be the last word, but it is a big jump. Like it or not, the revolution is here. I, for one, welcome this future.

Don't get me wrong. I love paper books. I've got thousands of them. I've even been known to read them from time to time. I'll probably haunt used bookstores for years to come. But what I love most about books is that they are a delivery system for words. When I'm reading I don't want to be paying attention to the book. I want to be focused on the words. Sure, it's cool that my copy of The Lost World was printed before I was born, that it's slightly browned pages have a real honest to goodness rag edge, and that it even smells nice, but when I'm reading I don't notice any of that. It's not the book I'm reading, it's the story.