So, I have been reading books all my life. Well, ever since I can remember. My dad was head of the local library and through this priviledge I spent quite a lot of my childhood in the company of the written word. Everyone in my family read and to me it seemed like I was surrounded by books.
I still read as much as I can get away with.
Growing up in the fifties and sixties reading was probably a more normal way to spend ones freetime, whereas today there are many supplementary choices like ebooks, audiobooks, movies, televisionseries etc. and access to these can be had on our smartphones, computers, tablets and TV.
Now I am not putting any of these options down.
Each of them has pros and cons and as society developes, as well as technology, we move on embracing even more sophisticated ways of storytelling and factfinding and -learning. So, logically there is nothing wrong with this evolution of how information is being delivered. And I am by no means a ludite, as my blog proves.
But for me books have a charm that no technological invention will ever be able to provide.
The feel of the paper, pages turning, the sweet smell of the printed texture, the quiet atmosphere as I delve into the written word and the complete surrender to the world of the story as it unfolds before my eyes and in my mind.
I am at peace.
There is no humming from electrical equipment, no distraction of my attention wondering if there is a mail on the way or an sms etc., no lighted background interrupting my melatonin-production and no wifi messing with my natural brainwaves.
In short to me books represent a sweet calmness where I can immerse myself in a parallel timeline cocreated by the author and myself, completely unique and blissfully void of any interference.