Finger-Swiping Pages Forward

When I was little, my favorite store in the mall was always Walden Books. I would tell my mom that she and Big Sis could go on ahead and search for a new sweater for the first day of school in one of the department stores. I’d rather stay right there, in the back corner of the mall, running my fingers along seemingly endless shelves of books. I would ooh and aah at  the different covers, smile at the familiar ones I’d already read, and scan the back covers of ones I added to my mental wishlist. Then when I was done, I would head over to the fiction section, find the G’s, and search for the spot where my books would someday be placed.

I would push the book ahead of my future books in the alphabet to the left, and the books behind it to the right, just to see what my little space in the literary world would look like. More than 15 years after I started that little routine of mine, it seems like it’s about to be defunct.

I broke down the other day and bought an e-reader.

Yes. And let me assure you, it was not a decision I made lightly. In face, for about three weeks leading up to the purchase, I asked everyone I know to tell me their thoughts about Kindles and Nooks (I bought a Nook), and whether reading a book on something other than bound pages would make me part of the problem in the publishing industry, rather than part of the solution.

As someone who majored in newspaper journalism, yet works an in increasing digital world, I fully understand the push from tangible pages to computer screens and tablets; I also see that the trend can be viewed as both a crisis and an opportunity. I also understand that it’s nearly impossible to introduce myself to someone, and explain what I do without hearing some sort of “Aren’t you afraid your industry is dying because everyone just gets the news online?” response. So while I share links to stories online and play around with Twitter and all those fun things, I still physically buy newspapers and read them in their paper form. It’s my way of providing a little bit of insurance for Future Maggie.

I told all of this to the saleswoman at Barnes & Noble the other day, and proceeded to have a deep, philosophical chat about whether this purchase would turn be into a digital sell out — just one more link in the human chain gradually pulling us away from real objects as we draw closer to virtual products. She somehow convinced me that I didn’t have to be worried about that. I guess she is sort of paid to convince people to buy these gadgets, but she seemed sincere, so I swiped my debit card and was on my way.

I love it.

I really, really love my Nook. I seriously spend every spare second reading. I look forward to finding a spare 20 minutes in the day so I can whip that puppy out and read a chapter or two. I feel like using this shiny new object makes reading even more fun for me than it was before. I’m gonna go ahead and get pretty corny here when I say I chalk that one up to the fact that reading on my Nook is a … NOVEL experience. Giggle.

It’s also super portable. Not that books aren’t or anything. But I used to be very Rory Gilmore about my purse books. I had one for a bus ride, another for a cup of coffee, and three more going depending on what mood I was in at the time, so you’d usually find about three books tucked in the bottom of my purse, because you just can’t anticipate which one you’ll want to dive into later in the day. But now instead of toting tomes in the bottom of my bag, I have this one handy dandy tablet that weighs next to nothing. My lower spine is truly grateful.

And while the Nook cost me a couple hundred dollars, I feel like it’s going to save me money in the long run. Classic books (I just finished re-reading Jane Eyre on it, for example) cost next to no money because of copyright laws, and most new books are at a lower price than they would be in stores. I figure that in a year’s time, I can probably break even on this little toy of mine. But the idea of reading on the cheap is also a little concerning to me. Last week, while reporting on a story for the Advocate, I met a woman who writes mystery novels, and asked her about thoughts regarding e-Readers, and whether she receives the same royalties for e-Books as she does for book books. She said she wasn’t certain whether the compensation was exactly the same, but it was definitely comparable, and as long as people read, she doesn’t care how they do it.

Good point. But I can’t help but wonder about the future, when I actually do have a published novel ready to hit the shelves. Will I be able to stop into a bookstore and search for it on the shelves where I’ve always dreamed of seeing it? Or will I just click a button and watch it materialize in front of me?