I forgot that books are made of paper
There was a holiday disaster:
Book: Flesh by David Szalay
Here’s what happened:
In 2025, only 2% of the books I finished were physical books. The rest were e-books on my Kindle or from Everand.
And technically, it doesn’t matter as long as I’m reading, right?
Except I had been in a reading slump like no other. My usual strategy of changing genres would normally work until it didn’t. I think I was just tired of reading in the same format.
So in 2026, I started switching to physical books more often and somehow, that did the trick.
Basically, I just needed a change of scenery. Back to basics. Paper. Pages. A crack of the spine. Yes, I’m one of those people.
There are obvious upsides to e-readers and e-books. As a mood reader, I can carry an entire library in one slim device that fits into my very messy Type B mum handbag.
The Kindle also makes me read faster. I have always been a fast reader, but somehow the screen makes the experience smoother while still letting me retain information. Maybe it’s because I’m not thinking about how thick the book is or how many pages are left. I’m just reading.
The problem with being a fast reader is that I tend to consume more books. I read a lot of contemporary/literary fiction and, for some reason, those are often the most expensive books in my country. And combine that with my need to change genres? It gets $$$. Before you say it, yes, we have a library and it sucks.
While I know you don’t actually own digital copies, e-books usually cost less than physical copies, especially on certain platforms or during sales. Shout out to Project Gutenberg, Smashwords, BookBub and ReaderIQ. You have enabled me greatly.
And, most importantly, my Kindle is water-resistant.
I wrote about buying myself birthday books. There is something calming and nostalgic about browsing a bookstore, finding some gems and making the purchase. The smell of a new physical book is amazing. The act of flipping through pages is an experience in itself.
But see, I have been mainly reading on my water-resistant Kindle for six years.
So when the kid said, “Mum, look at this,” while doing some kind of ninja move in the hotel swimming pool, I put my book face down on my damp chest like I would with my Kindle.
Dear reader, paper does not appreciate being treated like its evil digital twin.
Anyway, that’s my long-winded excuse to make myself feel better about being a klutz.