I Prefer The Real Thing

I remember when the first Kindle was released. It was in 2007, around the beginning of my bookworm stage. I thought that the idea of being able to have all your books in this one little device was so cool—but I never asked my parents for it, because I liked getting books from my school library.

And then, a year or two later, my dad got me one for Christmas. I remember getting so excited over it, although I hadn’t mentioned it to him before. I got a couple free books off of it, I purchased a couple. I read a handful, including J.M. Barrie’s Peter Pan and Alex Flinn’s novel-turned-movie, Beastly.

Don’t get me wrong, it was fun while it lasted. But as much as I liked and appreciated the gift my dad got for me, I didn’t enjoy the experience of reading as much as I did with actual books that I’d get from the library.

That’s when I learned that I, one hundred percent, prefer a physical book over the electronic version. I like the turning of pages, the smell of the book, the art on the cover. I like those nerdy little details, and I didn’t realize it until I had the Kindle. As Trump would say at the end of his tweets: sad.

And it was. My dad went out of his way, and got me this cool gift that I actually loved. And I did love it at first, but it just wasn’t the same for me. I couldn’t enjoy the experience of reading as much I did with the physical book in front of me. I did still finish those stories, because hey, I wasn’t going to not finish them. But still, I would rather have had the real thing.

Prompt: Do you prefer to read electronic or paper books? Why?

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A twenty-two year old who lives through words and her Netflix account. She makes herself laugh more than others, and she claims that she is okay with that.

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