The book-lover's struggle

I struggle with myself over many things on a daily basis.  The dirt-loving, toad-petting side of me goes head to head with the nail polish and eyeliner-wearing side; the animal-lover in me hurls accusations when I tear into a steak; and the grammar-Nazi inside cries bitter tears over my frequent use of run-on sentences across the Internet (don't even get me started on the self-loathing I endure when I happen to indulge in txt-spk.)  For the past couple years, however, my most ardent internal battle has been waged between the book-loving purist and the gadget-toting tech nerd.  

So far, physical books have been winning out by a large margin.  I'm a literature graduate who loves the solid weight of ink and paper in her hand, smelling the musky book scent, and the satisfaction felt whenever I glance at my overflowing bookshelves.  Each book has a story, whether it be the marked up copy of The Canterbury Tales in Middle English or the guilty-pleasure summer read that sits hidden behind more impressive titles.  When I hold my used books, I think of how many hands have touched them, how they were loved by previous owners.  My new books hold my own memories: the first crack of the stiff spine, the joy I felt devouring the words, the escape they might have offered during hard times.  I have books signed by authors and--even more dear to me--books signed by hands I know and love.  So, basically, my books turn me into sentimental mush.  I just happen to like this brand of sentimentality.  

Loudly and often I have adamantly claimed that I will never own an e-book device.  Even when late night urges turned me to the internet to sneakily purchase e-books to read on my laptop, I stuck to my guns.  Even when, over the course of only two years, my e-book purchases totaled roughly $500 (on top of my physical book purchases: a total I cannot even think about without my wallet crying in pain), I continued to live on in denial.  No piece of spiffy plastic can replace my books.

It's a losing battle.  I love technology.  I love instant gratification.  I love nerding out over various gadgets.  And so it began: my inner nerd started a revolt.  Niggling doubts entered my brain as I passed the shiny Nooks at Barnes and Noble.  When I first fondled a Kindle, the e-ink screen surprised and delighted me.  I went giddy over access to thousands of free classics.  The urge to possess such a gadget grew and grew.  

Until this last week, I held on to my book-purist ideals.  I talked myself out of a Kindle purchase time and time again with money-related excuses and longing looks at my battered books.  I knew the battle was lost when I spent an entire Saturday converting my MS Reader books into usable formats.  My warring sides have come together in peace, content for the time being to compromise and allow me a shiny new toy.  With my paycheck next week comes my very own e-reading device.   I won't even begin to describe how the part of me that wants to own a bookstore one day feels about that.