by Kathy Philpott

Created on: December 23, 2011

For sixty years I have had a love affair with books.  I love the way the pages feel and the way books smell.    My favorite books have become my friends.

My childhood hours were spent within the pages of the Edgar Rice Burroughs Mars books.  My little sister and I had a contest to see who could finish all the Tarzan books by the same author.  I won.

Good books, meaning good stories, provided escape and fueled my imagination.  Great books profoundly affected my choices as a human being.  I was shaped, inspired and swept away by the written word.

Not too long ago my neighborhood had to be evacuated because of an out of control fire magnified by hurricane force winds.  After putting my cat in the car, I filled my suitcase with as many books as would fit.  I was ready to leave with the clothes on my back, but I was not willing to leave my books.

On my last birthday, my sister gave me an e-reader.  I secretly hated it and felt determined to never use it.  One of the books that frightened me as a young woman was Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451. Books are banned in this portrait of the future and intellectual exiles memorize and become their favorite book.  The e-reader seemed to herald the coming of this kind of reality.

While recovering from the flu and out of complete boredom, I downloaded a book onto the evil reader.  Suddenly, I was amazed.  I could make the print large and easy to read.  The little light created the perfect reader for my old geriatric eyes.  This was cool! 

I admit that I adjusted my thinking and softened my suspicion of this kind of reading.  For several weeks, I did not touch a real book.  I carried my reader in my purse and found it extremely convenient.  While shopping at a local book store for a day planner, I started to sense the old familiar presence of my forgotten friends.  I put the thoughts of the day planner away and looked at new books for several hours.  I started feeling guilty.  I missed holding a book and leafing through the pages.  I missed using the bookmarks my children had made me when they were young.  Those funny, fading bookmarks could not be used in the sleek, but lifeless e-reader.

I was faced with a dilemma.  Could I continue to use the reader, or go back to my original pattern of reading actual books?

This decision required balanced, unemotional thinking; two characteristics I lack.  I found counsel from a fellow reader with a similar experience.  As in the past conversations, Kelle provided wise advice.

“Don’t complicate things!  Why can’t you use both?  I do.  It’s all good.  Stop thinking so much”, she explained.  “Relax.  Enjoy the new world.”

The next disaster will find me loading my cat and books in the car.  This time, I will also leave room for my e-reader.

Learn more about this author, Kathy Philpott.
Click here to send this author comments or questions.