Ashamedly I have only just returned to the book world. Well, thats a little misleading.
I was an eReader addict. My kindle fed my reading addiction in a way that nothing else could.
I started my Kindle addiction in my first year of university. It made sense at the time, as my accommodation was at the bottom of a rather large hill I needed to climb each day to get to lectures. In my kindle I could hold all manner of literary masterpieces, some of which were free (FREEEEEE) which made the addiction even sweeter.
Over time, I stopped picking up physical books. I could pretend I was doing work for University when really I was reading the latest thriller by John La Carre or a Jane Austen classic. But in reality, I was not clicking on Paradise Lost or A Le Recherche de Temps Perdu when I swiped to open my current book.
And I never truly new what I was reading! People would ask me and I would have to hit the little home button and study the digital front cover to inform them the title and author. Not that it meant a huge amount to me. Not until the end of the book at least, when I would then anguishly stalk them to find another similar book to cure my hangover, or ignore the author altogether from a bad read.
And, SAMPLES. Don’t even get me started on samples. I would finish one book and then instantly hit the digital bookstore to download trillions of samples of similar books to then forget about when I pick one to start. The cycle then repeats.
So, after nearly four years, I was languishing in a real bookstore, as I often did to see the real versions of the books I had read on kindle. I picked up A Throne of Glass by Sarah J Maas. Truthfully, I had already devoured A Court of Thorns and Roses and A Court of Mist and Fury, and had downloaded a sample of A Throne of Glass, and something about the sample I didn’t like.
Nevertheless I had loved ACoTaR, and felt I didn’t give Sarah J Maas a proper chance. So upon a whim, I picked up A Throne of Glass.
One of the strangest realisations was that my muscles in my fingers had practically disappeared. I genuinely couldn’t believe it. Out of all the things I thought I would miss about ereaders (not needing to find a bookmark when you ran to get a drink, or needing to switch the light on when it got dark) my hands were not a part which I thought would be a factor.
I’ve had to rebuild my strength in my hands. Which is ludicrous to me. I’m a (very new) piano player, and also do aerial hoops and silks up to three times a week. My hands are strong! But reading, takes a whole new set of muscles.
So as I pick up Heir of Fire (the third in the trilogy) I find myself needing to take pauses, not to find a bookmark or to switch the light on, but to stretch out my fingers.
Who would’ve thought it.
And my once beloved kindle, sits by my bed, waiting for me to dive back in, and feed the addiction of one click reading.