'Kindle'ing an Interest in Books

Recently a friend called me a traitor, but she said it with a smile.

She didn’t mean the double-crossing, backstabbing, snake-in-the-grass type of traitor—she meant something else. I have a Kindle; she thinks I’m going to stop buying books. She’s wrong.

The Kindle is a cool gadget. It’s small and compact (it fits inside my purse). It’s lightweight and easy to use. Best of all, it doesn’t require a lot of physical storage space.

I used to keep every book I ever read. I spent a lot of time getting familiar with them, uncovering their intimate details. I hated to part with them; they were old friends. But books require space.

When I moved to Mountain View, books became an issue. My place is small, and storage space is at a premium. I have two closets. Thirty-one windows, but only two closets! One has a crawl space, great for grandchildren to hide in, terrible for storing anything I want easy access to. Christmas decorations and an Aerobed fit there.

Limited space, limited storage. I could keep books in boxes, stack them around the house or, heaven forbid, get rid of them. For a brief minute, I considered a creative solution I once saw in a magazine—using a pile of books as an end table. I dismissed the idea after envisioning the disaster of toppling books the first time a guest set a mug of coffee or a glass of wine on top.

Books in boxes meant boxes in the garage. Finding a book I read even a few months ago would be inconvenient. I considered creating a spreadsheet listing each box by genre or author. My first thought: How organized and efficient that would be. My next: That’s not going to happen in this lifetime.

A stack of books in a corner or on the floor doesn’t fit my décor. Friends think I’m a neat freak. I guess I am. I’m not into clutter. I’ve admitted before that my desk is usually messy and my kitchen island always has stuff on it, but the rest of my house is orderly. The stacking option was out.

The "getting rid of books" choice was the only one left. So, I gave some away, donated some to the Friends of the Library, sold some to the used bookstore in town, and then, I had a garage sale.

My books went fast. Of course, they did. I would have bought them at someone else’s garage sale. Bestsellers, fiction, non-fiction, mysteries, romance. The choices were vast. I hated doing it, but the buyers seemed like nice people. I convinced myself the books would find new homes, new friends. Secretly, I reminded myself that every book sold meant one less book to pack, move and store.

But I didn’t sell all of them. I kept books I hadn’t yet read but intended to read. Those alone filled several boxes. I kept favorites, like The Scarlet Letter, Jane Eyre, The Silver Chalice and One Day in the Life of Ivan Denisovich, to someday read again. I kept my poetry and writing books, short story collections and reference books—Webster, Roget and Bartlett.

Have I mentioned the carton of books (Hardy Boys, Nancy Drew and Make Way For Ducklings, to name a few) from my children’s growing up years? All stored in the attic? It’s a wonder the roof didn’t collapse from the weight. I gave some to my daughter for my grandchildren to read. The ones for my son went to a storage locker. Giving those books away would have been like giving away my children.

On moving day, I still had too many books. Well, I’m creative and clever. I “found” space in my compact house for five built-in bookcases—three tucked under my living room windows into space that abuts my porch roof, two alongside my staircase. (A three-story house has many stairs.) I also bought two Ikea bookcases that now store more toys and art supplies than books.

The new Kindle stores an incredible number of books—a 1,500-book capacity. Who needs bookshelves? You can browse the online bookstore, download a sample, buy the book and start reading instantly—no need for a local bookstore, let alone a library. It makes traveling a breeze. Imagine packing two Patterson mysteries, Pillars of the Earth and Lacuna, in your suitcase for a vacation in Hawaii. Never mind that it would be heavy, or that you couldn’t possibly finish them in a week. With a Kindle, you can take them all, just in case.

It may be great on vacation, but at book group, my Kindle doesn’t cut it. Referencing something by page number doesn’t work (at least not yet). While I’m still pushing buttons navigating to one of my bookmarks or comments, the group has moved on to another page. Not to mention that if I forget to charge my Kindle, I’m out of luck.

Convenient, yes, but it isn’t my go-to choice. I like the feel of a book. I like seeing the printed word on the page. I like being able to flip back and reread something again knowing exactly in my mind’s eye what the page and section I’m hunting for looks like. I like scribbling in the margins. Ebook advocates, who claim these devices save trees, don’t agree with me.

and are within walking distance. When I was younger with minimal discretionary money for luxuries, I would spend hours browsing a bookstore. It was free entertainment; it still is. The is also within walking distance from me. The exercise is healthy, and the books are free, which means I can afford a coffee on my way home.

But for me, owning a Kindle means having more options, not being a traitor. I will always buy books, and my bookshelves are filling up again. Still, like it or not, ebooks are here to stay.

My friend eventually bought a cellphone. Who knows, maybe a Kindle is in her future, too.