Read this article.
This started as a letter to a friend.
I wanted to talk about the death of the paper book and about my desperate denial and about my slow acceptance of inevitability. I wanted this article to make me excited for the future.
How often do you see books in Star Trek? I mean, they’re there, but so infrequently.
So firstlie, let’s talk about curmudgeons. A curmudgeon is me… but I’m referencing an article I read on Book Riot “Keep the Library Book Sale Scared” by Kim Ukura. The quote is as follows:
“The more time I spent on the bookish Internet, the more I’m convinced that even the most rational book people have a thing that they are a curmudgeon about, some totally irrational, difficult to defend position that they, nonetheless, have decided to make into A Big Deal.
If you think that you aren’t a curmudgeon about anything, I suspect you’ve planted your flag in a place that allows you to be curmudgeonly about other curmudgeons. We all love to have something to hate on.”
I’m big on technology. I think it should be integrated into every facet of our lives, but I don’t want anyone to touch my books.
I own books. I own a lot of books. I’m a curmudgeon about e-books. I think they’re less fun and flavorless. It’s sillie, it’s curmudgeonlie, but it’s me.
I always want to be a person who changes with the times. Who looks at the future and says, “YES PLEASE!”
But I’m contemplating my bookless future more frequently and it doesn’t make me angry like it used to. Angry in a very “those damn kids are in my yard again” way. A way that’s not good productive anger, but ridiculous pedantic anger.
Now it makes me sad. I know that kids will still read, but I also know they’ll probablie never go to a book store to run their fingers over the spine and pick something up at random. And worse, from my point of view, is that they’ll never understand the loss.
There’s lists and lists of things like that.
Things that I take for granted, but that any children I might have will never know about.
I’m older than the internet. I’ve played a game from an actual floppy disk, not the 3.5″ version. (They won’t even know what those are.) Somedays, my friends and I will sit at the bar and argue about things that we aren’t sure of the facts about. What was the name of that actor in that movie. (And sure we could look it up in a heartbeat, but that would ruin the fun.) And they will never know.
It’s easie, now, to see how past generations lament change. When my mom was born computers didn’t exist. There were no calculators, no microwaves, no phones that weren’t rotary.
Her grandchildren will have no comprehension of what that might mean. And just imagine how things will change in their life time.
They might never need to learn to drive. By the time they’re sixteen cars might drive themselves.
So it seems reallie, that time makes us all just a little curmudgeonlie. It takes a world we know, that we grew up with and it turns it into a a foreign place that we must continuouslie adapt to.
And I’m trying. No one wants to be a curmudgeon.
Just leave my books alone.