Read it in books

It's another rockin' night out with the Pearsons and their, um, books.

Dan is engrossed in the new Rick Riordan and I'm not sure what Abi is reading, although I know she's waiting for the arrival of David Walliams' latest. Dan does have a Kindle, too. He only wanted this book in physical format as he has all the other Riordan books in hardback.

Me, I'm still not convinced. The move from vinyl to CD was accompanied by a minor bereavement for the record sleeve, which was totally outweighed by the convenience of CD. I could never tell the difference between digital and analogue recordings of songs.

From here the hop between CDs and MP3s was a small one. I still carried on buying the disks for another decade (until earlier this year) but everything got 'ripped' to MP3 straightaway. I couldn't determine any loss in quality and, again, the convenience of having *all* my music on an iPod outweighed any further misgivings.

So, you might think I'd be ready for the convenience of the Kindle. After all, there's the the instant gratification of getting a new book delivered as soon as you buy it, and I'm all for not deferring enjoyment. There's the fact I would never again have to worry about finishing my book without having a new one to hand. And I'd no longer have shelves of travel-tatty books.

Except that I like books that look like they've been read. In fact, I love books full stop. I like the weight of them, the texture, the action of turning the page, the sense of how far through a book I am. I love their *substance*.

Thus, I don't have a Kindle. (Maybe I should say 'yet': never say never, and all that.) Except I really hope I never do get one. I don't want to forget the physical pleasure that can accompany the intellectual joy of reading.

Finally, a couple of years ago, @not_twothree and I did this. We each needed to buy 25 singles and so I went into Oxfam to flip through their seven inches. They had to go and get the box from the stockroom as there was no demand for them anymore. And as I flicked through the sleeves, I felt a particular excitement that I hadn't enjoyed for, perhaps, twenty years and that I realised I would never feel again. I love the future, I like living in it, but now I am becoming a little more cautious about embracing every aspect of it.