I love books. I also love to read them. If you’re a book lover, you know what I’m talking about. Buying books and reading books are two separate activities. It’s true. You can check.
Imagine your favorite bookstore is behind door number 17.
December 17, 20204
I like nothing better than browsing a bookstore at this time of year. As I step out of the cold into the warmth, the store’s ubiquitous lighting envelopes me. Countless books patiently wait on their shelves and tables, each hoping I’ll choose them. Magic is in the very air.
Adventure litters the aisles. I scan the spines whose titles lure me into their depths like terse Sirens. I succumb and slip a book from its perch. I open it to a random page. I never assess a book by reading the first page. Opening paragraphs are like first meetings. Everyone is on their best behavior. If a book can draw me in on page 137, we’ll be good friends.
Even if the book isn’t my cup of tea, I’m still rewarded with the scent of its paper, ink, and glue. The weight of the book, the thickness and texture of its pages, even the typeset, all contribute to the sensory experience of browsing. And the best part is that there’s another book right next to it to try out.
I’m not averse to reading technology. My e-ink tablet has its uses. I like to borrow digital books from the regional library system that my town’s library doesn’t have. It’s also useful for reading that thriller that I’ll finish in a day or two but don’t want to keep for posterity. Even still, searching for and reading a printed book in a library or bookstore engages all of the senses in a way the digital manifestation cannot.
At this time of year, “shopping for gifts” is an excellent excuse reason to go to a bookstore and browse. If you come out with a gift for yourself, oh well, ’tis the season. Even better, you don’t have to wrap it.
If you’ll excuse me, I think I have some last-minute shopping to do.
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