I should not be allowed into a bookstore unchaperoned.
This is what happens. In no time flat.
I had a legitimate excuse. I had filled up my current Moleskine and exhausted my notebook backstock. I do not survive without a notebook on my person (more on this later). A lovely book store is located conveniently close to other lunch time errands.
Please Note: I read both of these pieces after my indiscretion.
See, I will never be a Kindle owning, e-book aficionado. I know, I know. So convenient. No books to haul around. Easy access. Try it you will see.
I like books. I spend enough of my time staring at screens. When I read, I want a tactile experience. I like the weight of a book (or two or three) in my bag. I like book marks, and dog eared pages. While I do an occasional purge from time to time, I like my shelf full of books.
I do not want to like your little imitation book device.
I will protect my bibliophilia from the encroachment of technology. At all costs.
These are the reasons, I should not go to bookstores. As soon as I walk in, I am sympathetic to their cause. They too love books. They must. They have so many! Don’t worry. I’ll help you stay in business five minutes longer by plunking down more money than I intended to.
Maybe it was about there being no Pullitzer Award for fiction this year. Maybe it was finding a used copy of Eats, Shoots & Leaves. Maybe it was my nostalgia for the bookstore, because for me growing up in rural america with a crappy library system, bookstores are where it all began.
Whatever it is, I should stick to the library, Dammit!