A Digital Girl in a Digital World

I love gadgets. I love that my entire music library can be downloaded onto my MP3 player and taken on the road. I love that I can watch movies on my laptop. I love that I can take a picture on my cell phone and instantly send it to anyone (great for long-distance bragging when you are on vacation and your friends and family are at work. They love that.) Well, I can now announce a new phase in my digi-mania: my obsession has crept into my most treasured, favorite pleasure in life. That’s right, folks. My library has gone electronic. All the books I could ever want are now in the “Palm” of my hand.

I know what you are thinking. A true bibliophile would never willingly relinquish the feel of the page-turn or that distinctive book smell. No purist could be fulfilled by a cold, indifferent electronic reading device. Each book is like a friend, with a history, a personality. The idea that modern technology can replace friends is ludicrous and practically sinful, punishable by a complete shunning by booksellers and librarians alike.

Now, before initiating a world-wide rejection by the literary world for all eternity (or at least until the literary world goes digital), hear me out. I currently have 4 books on my Palm: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley, Middlemarch by George Elliott, Queen Isabella by Alison Weir, and John Adams by David McCullough. This list represents a total of 2,528 traditional paperback pages, at a weight of 10 pounds (for those of you who remember Jerry McGuire, that is the weight of a human head) and a cost of $55 at paperback retail price. In digital electronic world, these same four books (along w/ a version of the Bible, Matthew Henry’s Concise Commentary, and the Webster Dictionary), occupy less than half of the total 24 MB usable memory in my Palm (which weighs 3.4 oz) and cost me $28. Take that, literary world!

That’s all well and good, you may say, but what about the actual reading part of a digital library? What good are e-books if reading them is a pain? I just finished reading the e-book versions of Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom and The Johnstown Flood by David McCullough, a total of 512 paperback pages, and I am happy to report no lasting book-withdrawal effects. I was able to increase the word font to larger than regular book size and turn each “page” w/ one click of a button. The screen is back-lit, so I can read in the dark (if I should so choose). And my wrists are well on the way to recovery, having been relieved of the several-pound books I usually lug around in favor of a device roughly the size of a deck of cards. What about highlighting? Yes, I can do that. Taking notes about a passage? Yup, that too. I can also instantly look up any word in the dictionary. But my absolute favorite part? The e-reader automatically opens up to the last page I was on. You know what that means, don’t you? That’s right. Stop-light reading. No more seething at red lights. I can read while I wait. Awesome.

Before I sound too much like a salesman or techie review writer (its probably too late for that), let me reassure the folks out there that my new love affair with e-books does not mean I shall henceforth shun the material-written word. The free library will always hold a special place in my heart. I will still enjoy picking up a traditional book to remember my first love. Don’t worry, musty book shelves! I will not forget you!