Digital Book? Nah, I'm Good

I’ve never been very good at handling change. This is evidenced by the following:

• I’ve had the same clock radio since middle school. It’s been with me in Michigan, Wisconsin, and Minnesota. It probably thinks it’s on some grand adventure that will eventually conclude in California around my 95th birthday. Perhaps that’s true.
• I’ve had the same duffle bag since high school. It smells faintly of the nineties. Several years back, I found a comb in it and laughed heartily. That should tell you how old it is.
• I’ve had the same wristwatch for a half-dozen years or so. Its face is scratched terribly and there's sand in all of its crevices, making it grind hideously any time the band is flexed. I see no reason to purchase a new one. Ever.

With this in mind, it should come as no surprise that I’m slightly disturbed by the trend of books going digital. While I understand the benefits of reading on a tablet, I still think there are too many advantages to physical books to just put them out to the proverbial pasture. Here are a few of them.

1.) With physical books, you get to display them prominently on a shelf, forcing anybody in the vicinity to recognize your extraordinary level of literary sophistication. Personally, I’ve spent more time than I care to admit organizing my bookshelf to get it just right, and I’m quite proud of the final result, even though it may surprise some. (“So, you own, like, every single Garfield book?")

2.) Keeping with the bookshelf theme, a fun activity for children is to pull all of the books off a bookshelf, creating a mound of literature that instantly turns the room into a total disaster area, all while creating good photo opportunities. This would not be possible with digital books. Now why would we want to lose this?

Yeah, that’s me.

3.) Physical books are good to crush bugs with, especially if they’re hard-cover; even more so if they’re 1968 Encyclopedias that state that computers work by “magic”.

4.) When I finish reading a book, I like to celebrate by performing the “Book Throw.” This means I toss it squarely onto the floor from wherever I’m at, which is usually a chair or my bed. This generates a satisfying clunk and punctuates my accomplishment. Doing this with a tablet wouldn’t really work, as it would either break or sense the impact and instantly log onto Facebook to update my status to say how much of a careless jerk I am.

5.) With physical books, you get to have cool bookmarks, like the copper one I have with an illustration of a man panning gold on it, complete with a burro. It’s fantastic.

6.) Reading a physical book automatically makes you look smart, even if you’re not. This is especially true if you frown a lot and wear glasses, along with occasionally remembering to turn the page. (This does not apply, however, if you’re reading something like The Berenstain Bears and Too Much Do-It-At-Home Surgery) However, if you’re reading a book on your tablet, it automatically makes you look like you’re wasting time on the internet or playing games, even if you frown extra-hard and wear multiple sets of glasses.

7.) Physical books can’t run out of batteries on the last chapter.

8.) New book smell.

9.) During my school days, all the way through college, I had to use physical textbooks, and I see no reason why future students shouldn’t have to do the same. Plus, physical textbooks in school have several benefits, including the following:

• With physical books you need a backpack, which you can wear over one shoulder. This makes you look suave, like you’re too cool to play entirely by the rules. (Although there is a small chance that it makes you look like you lack the necessary motor skills to put on a backpack correctly. However, if you frown a lot and wear glasses, you should be all right.)
• With physical textbooks, one way for a boy to display his budding affection towards a girl is to offer to carry hers. It just wouldn’t be the same if the boy asked to carry her tablet. In fact, he might get accused of trying to steal it.
• Books used year after year can be beneficial to the educational process, as helpful notes may be left behind in the margins for the next reader. For example, one might find the following in a chemistry textbook: “Mr. Brady doesn’t use deodorant. If you don't believe me, wait for a hot day when he’s reaching up to erase the whiteboard.” Now that’s knowledge you can’t put a price on.

This is by no means a complete list. For example, I’ve mentioned nothing about perusing used book stores or libraries. Plus, can you really compare reading anything digitally to pulling a beat-up Calvin & Hobbes treasury off of the shelf and reading it cover to cover?

I thought not.

Challenging the Sandman

Just one more page.

Just one more page.

Just one more page.

At some point you realize you’re just kidding yourself. You’ve gotten to a point where you’re going to have to finish the book. It’s kind of like a rollercoaster, except with much less screaming and much less chance of throwing up. You began by buckling yourself into the seat of commitment, followed by the slow climb of character and story development, and now you’ve just gone over the tipping point of setup vs. payoff and are hurtling down the steep incline of extreme reader satisfaction, powered by the gravity of plot resolution, hoping desperately that you don’t hit a rough patch of cliché storytelling that upsets your stomach of enjoyment and ruins the entire ride.

Unfortunately, it’s late. Much too late. Tomorrow morning is coming soon, and the longer you stay awake the worse it’s going to be. However, it’s not like you really have a say in the matter. You are physically unable to put the book down.

So you keep reading, the final chapters falling away before your ravenous eyes. The real world is quiet and dark, illuminated only by a single bed lamp, but the world you’re immersed in is bright and alive and exciting and full of plot twists that aren't so contrived that they make you roll your eyes.

Ah! Oh! Holy crap! He wouldn’t! He did! How could he! Now what? Now what? Oh! I see! Ha ha! That’s great!

Then suddenly it’s over. A bittersweet moment, indeed.

You slowly put the book down, stare up at the ceiling, and just soak it all in for a while. Then you remember tomorrow is almost here, so you reach out and turn off the light. You are definitely going to pay for this. There’s absolutely no question about it.

The next morning you’re downing coffee at an astounding rate. You’re moving about in a fog, and even though thinking is still technically possible, comprehending is a much tougher challenge. Your eyelids are drooping, and mumbling is as articulate as you can be. Basically, you fought the Sandman, and he dropkicked you down a flight of steps. Still, it was worth it. It’s not often you find books like that, so when you do, you enjoy it and to heck with the consequences.

And maybe there’s a sequel. But only after you get some sleep.

Recommended Reading

Before watching the HBO miniseries The Pacific, I had little to no knowledge of the war in the Pacific during WWII. This 10-part series was done pretty well, and it opened my eyes to a lot of what occurred during that time.

After finishing the miniseries, I moved on to the book With The Old Breed, which was written by E.B. Sledge, who was one of the main characters portrayed in The Pacific. His book is a first-person account of the two campaigns that he fought in, Peleliu and Okinawa. It goes into much greater detail than The Pacific had time for, and it gave me a much better understanding of what the fighting on the Pacific islands was like.

I won't try to give any sort of summary or specific details on the book. All that I’ll say is that it is one of the best books I’ve ever read, and I highly recommend it to anybody. In fact, I can say that, to me, the best part of The Pacific is that it led me to read With The Old Breed.

Reading Tip Of The Day

Reading Tip Of The Day: Don’t read the plot synopsis for a book if you already know you’re going to read it.

I’m amazed, and a little embarrassed, that it took me this long to figure this out. Reading the plot synopsis for a book gives away the general storyline, so you already know what you’re getting into before you start. However, if you ignore it, you have absolutely no idea what to expect, which makes reading the book much more interesting.

For example, a typical plot synopsis will include something like: “Special Agent Brock Granite thought it was going to be his day off. But when his partner is murdered, that all changed. He begins an investigation which uncovers layers of corruption and intrigue at the higest levels of the government, and soon he finds himself in a deadly race against time where he must use all of wits to disarm fifty bombs in fifty minutes, all while trying to determine where the allegiances of the mysterious but seductive Special Agent Penelope Hourglass lie.”

If you were to read this book, were it ever written, and I think it should be, you would already know the key plot points by reading the synopsis. For example, when Brock's partner is introduced, you’d already know it was only a matter of time before he was taking a dirt nap.

In fact, I just read a book where a secondary character was sent alone on an assignment, and I was pretty sure he was going to bite it in order to advance the plot. Still, since I didn’t read the synopsis, I didn’t know for sure until it actually happened. Then, when I read the synopsis after I’d finished the book, sure enough, it was revealed that he died. Personally, I found it much more entertaining having it revealed as the story unfolded.

And you thought this blog was nothing but frivolous nonsense!

Sorry. I’ll get back to that soon enough.

The Richard Sharpe Series

I still remember reading my first Bernard Cornwell novel. There were about a hundred pages left in this medieval tale when the final, epic battle began. I was surprised that it started so early, and wondered what the rest of the book would be about once it had ended. As the pages turned, I then realized that the last one hundred pages were the battle.

That’s the thing about Cornwell. He can take something as huge and confusing as a battle and portray it in such a way that you easily understand everything that is occurring. It takes a lot of pages to do it, but you get the big picture as to what is going on and the strategy that is being employed, along with nitty-gritty, often-times horrific details about what it would be like to be in the middle of it all.

Cornwell has written a lot of books about a lot of different times, but I especially like the Sharpe Series. This takes place during the Napoleonic wars, in the early 1800s. It follows Richard Sharpe, who is an officer in the British army. He works his way up from a private to an officer, which was unheard of in that period. (Officers normally bought their ranks back then, they didn't earn them.)

The Sharpe Series consists of 21 novels, although I’ve only read 11 of them. When Cornwell began writing, Sharpe was already an officer, and Cornwell continued in a mostly chronological fashion through Sharpe’s career all the way through Waterloo. During this time Sharpe continued to rise through the ranks, and always found himself playing key roles in the many battles that occurred along the way.

That is what the first 11 books consist of, and they are the ones that I read. After that, Cornwell wrote additional books and slotted them before his first book, and in-between some of the later ones. I never read them, though, as I was satisfied with seeing what happened at Waterloo, and the one book that took place after that.

So, if you’re looking for a good read, start with Sharpe’s Eagle and go from there, in the order in which Cornwell wrote them. I don’t think you’ll be disappointed.