I pledged to read the printed word. Indeed, I do even now. Sometimes, though, we arrive at a point where we could set aside some held on beliefs to give way for everyday practicality. I find I am not that rock stubborn after all nor unmalleable on things that I enjoy doing. That said, I am on the threshold of acquiring another taste to reading using my Nook and presently, I am still adjusting to it.
My approach to reading could be pinned down in terms of tones and moods and its rather nostalgic and lingering feel. If a book breathes and emanates a certain kind of magic and life before my eyes, my imaginative mind rushes to join with it up in the air and I’d be engulfed in a haze of another story, another world. I have gotten too deep, as most bookworms do, on this habit of pulling out and shoving in books on a shelf, ruffling the pages and closing the back cover with a mixture of emotions.
Reading books on tablet is sure an acquired taste. It sort of feels like entering your own familiar home through the back window (like something unnatural) and not by the front door with its trellis of vines. My mind couldn’t really string the scenes together and produce the right images inside my head. The stories slip away from me faster than the winds of June and I could not even linger looking at the last pages cause there’s no back cover to stare at, only the blinking numerals of ‘235/235’.
But then, change need not be an enemy. One way or the other, we must go out of our comfort zones and keep up with the times, ride the waves of sorts. Isn’t that what most would say? (Truthfully though, I barely give a hoot on whatever most people say) So here I am, getting comfortable sitting by the window and tap-tapping on my tablet. Nothing like the portrait of the three Bronte sisters cover screen to draw me back in.