My love bought me the gift of literature for Christmas, in the form of a Kindle Fire. When these things first came out I was very skeptical, certain they’d replace the unparalleled smell, texture, and aesthetic beauty of books on shelves. I still kind of feel that way. However, as life changes so do our priorities, and with us moving onto a boat in October it quickly became clear my 400 books weren’t coming with me.
So I have a Kindle now. I haven’t used it yet, as I’m halfway through One Hundred Years of Solitude (which is amazing, btw), and I have about five paperbacks left to finish, then it’s e-books all the way. I’m excited to choose my first book and see how I like it.
I will miss my books. They are packed up in storage for now. Throughout this move (and all the ones that came before), I am reminded again how important books are to me. They are the thing I would save from a burning building, if it was possible to carry entire bookshelves out through engulfing flames. Someday, when we have a house again, or maybe just one perfect room full of love and literature, I’ll line the walls with my books and use the Kindle for travel purposes only. Until then, I’m grateful to have the world of words at my fingertips.