Either way, I’ve grown up in a house full of unread books in varying states of decay. Most are much too delicate to read and mostly, I’d have no interest in anyway. (Though occasionally, finding one relatively new one my parents have had since their teenage years opens my eyes to a new and fantastic author – see John Whyndam and Mervyn Peake)
All the same, I feel as though just their presence has had a big impact on my almost reverent admiration of books. I read a lot as a child and still do and though I know the story is ultimately the most important part, part of me never wants to let go of the physical qualities of a book: the weight, the shape, the smell. So, as much as I admire the kindle and the e-reader for all of the many many benefits they bring, I’m not sure they’ll ever replace a good old fashioned paper and ink book for me.