I have a confession to make.
I want a Kindle.
I know. I feel like a traitor. Like I am betraying those well-thumbed pages, spurning those beloved dustjackets, and treating years of toting books with me hoping for the chance to curl up in a corner and bury myself in the story with disdain.
But A-down-the-hill has one and she was telling me how great it is to be able to download authors and titles at a whim, and at greatly reduced prices, and to be able to store hundreds of cracking reads for revisiting at some future date. And let’s face it – it’s a lovely handbag size and would certainly support my 50 Book Challenge efforts during my commute. And then I could get a lovely cover for it – something to express my personality perhaps, and to keep it protected from all the other
crap bit and pieces in my handbag.
But what will the Oxfam bookshop do without my cycle of donation-purchase-donation?
And what will I put on my bookshelf?
Hmmm, before I abandon a joyful habit of a lifetime, I really need to give this some thought…