Post time. Aaaaannnnnd GO.
Every time a book store closes, part of
my soul dies. Whenever I went out shopping with my mother, or
friends, I would always beg to be allowed to browse the bookstore, usually while they went girl and spent hours looking at shoes or clothes. There's something magical about when you walk in and see the new releases set up
symmetrically in a pyramid, or in their own cardboard stand up, the
familiar walls lined with spines, the occasional stand out feature, advertisement of a book signing or midnight release,
the smell of books. You know what I mean. That fresh cut wood, crispy
smell that only new books have. Glossed oak tag with foil, or smooth
raised lettering, sharp edges, pages so fresh that they make a
satisfying purr as you speed flip through them. Even the musty smell
of worn leather and dust, is like being surrounded by years of people
and their wisdom. Because books
are people. Their thoughts, their
beliefs, their hopes and dreams, their discoveries about the world
and themselves, painstakingly written down with equal parts love and
frustration. There’s something so satisfying about holding a book,
turning each page as you progress through a story, the feel of the
thin pages grazing your thumb, the spine cradled in your palm,
cracking as the book is opened and closed. Dog eared pages,
unraveling tassel bookmarks, even notes in margins. There’s so many
things about books that are so wonderful that it’s truly hard to
express. Unless someone really knows.
So... This is a thing. I guess people DO get it... Can I get it? For my birthday, maybe?
Pick up a book. Any
book. It’s reassuring to see and feel that it’s there. That the
author, in one way or another, will always live on, always have something to say to
anyone willing to crack open their work and read. Holding a book is,
in a way, shaking the hand of the author and chatting over drinks.
Part of them is always in whatever edition you decide to peruse, and
it’s a gateway to their worlds, their thoughts, their souls. And it'd be a shame to lose that, either to people becoming less and less likely to read, or the simple extinction of paper. Maybe kids are just happier with their lives these days (NOT.) Or they have other means to escape. Maybe their parents pressured or forced them to read, like using it as a punishment, or not reading to them as children and instilling the sense of wonder I had. And that kind of makes me a little sad.
Book stores are an endangered species.
And I suppose that’s a sign of the times. Nothing I can do about
it, really. Environmentally and progressively, bookstores are
becoming obsolete. E-Readers and tablets are becoming fairly
commonplace; nearly everyone has something that they can read books
on. Either they buy them through their device’s respective online
stores, or torrent them as PDFs, books are a lot more accessible and
a lot more portable as digital files. But will the classic weight,
scent, and feel of a tangible book be lost to future generations?
Will libraries close down? Will children of the future never know the
refuge and joy I experienced dragging my mother into a Borders? Even a used book store? Never befriend the friendly but still
slightly shy people who, like you, live in the world of other’s
imaginations they meld into their own? People who understand your
need to escape and become someone else for a little while? We’re
solitary enough as it is. Closing down book stores is just one less
venue for like-minded potential interaction for book worms.
Oh, don't worry Mr. Tennant. You're one of the few lucky awkwards that people want to talk to/fck.
The one time I ran away from home I
went to a bookstore. And I stayed until closing, fingers tracing over
spines tucked neatly in alphabetical order on shelves, picking out a
few with interesting titles or familiar authors, even attractive
covers. My world was falling apart, so I retreated into others where things weren't so bad, or where I knew the hero(ine) would win out and overcome. Feeling weak, I would find one of those sword and sorcery books, or something gritty and B-Movie types. Feeling ugly and unloved, I'd find a not overly cheesy romance novel with a stronger female character. Because I'm never going to be a damsel in distress, and bad ass chicks need and deserve love too! Wanting to remember my childhood, I'd grab a reprinting of an old favorite. And something I legitimately planned on buying once I left. I had a pile of at least four or five books, opening to a random page in the middle, reading a little, curling up in the chair the staff
had designated as mine. And I often left what I was reading under the chair or
tucked under the cushion when I went to grab something at the food
court. It was always just where I left it, the staff knowing I’d be
back to continue reading, usually with a coffee or a burger for
whoever was on shift and soon to be on break. It's good to have friends at your escape.
I received an E-Reader for Christmas
this past year. As much as I adore the sensory overload of a new
book, having something solid to hang on to, I decided that I’ve accumulated too many, and it was time to
downsize. Not all of us have staircase bookshelves, or our own book
nook closets, or even entire rooms for libraries. Oh how I wish I
did. So, much to my dismay, I collected all my books and noted the
ones I would reread, or simply could NOT part with, and
bought/downloaded the e-versions. And then, I offered first dibs on
the tangibles to my younger cousins, and donated the rest to
children’s literacy foundations. Because
Kids Need to Read. I
didn't have the heart to throw them out or give them to a thrift
store. I’d rather children who ADORE books, have no opportunity to
get them, want them, NEED them, get them for free, because I hope my
love for reading and the magic I found in them will pass to another
generation of young readers.
NOT me. Because you know. I have a hair. And am female. But pretty much this.
Then there’s the problem of
sustainability and environmental protection; the main factor in my
conversion to primarily digital. I’ve always been an
environmentalist, collecting pennies to save the rainforest, planting
trees on Arbor Day and recycling, picking up litter and all that
stuff. I’ve even donated money to save polar bears, wild horses,
and tigers. So it occurred to me that books are made out of paper…
SURPRISE! Paper comes from trees. And since physical books are being
phased out, it’ll inevitably be better for the environment when the
demand for physical books dwindles and eventually no longer exists.
And technological devices are recyclable too, and there’s more
incentive as people get money for that. Because who gives a fck about
not slowly annihilating the planet by destroying the environment unless
you get money?
Because environmental responsibility is for losers in leotards and bad hair jobs.
Now don’t get me wrong. I still,
occasionally, buy tangible books. Mostly just from my favorite
authors, or if it’s a continuing series and I already have the
first few. A little OCD like that. Any new series I may start or new books that come out,
from this day forth, will more than likely be e-books. Unless they’re so amazingly
fantastic and inspiring that I want to buy it and keep it
forever (read; cuddle with it at night in hopes their power transfers into me while I sleep.) To have it on my shelf above my writing desk and think
whenever I see it: “One day, my book will be up there with the
greats.”
One day, I hope to write well enough to have someone want
to tangibly hold one of my books. ... Well, let's be real for a minute. I just hope to actually finish the damn thing. Ha.
- RaRa out.
<--- Wicked stoked for this one. 
