Last week I appeared on the Hash Hags radio hour, hosted by three of my favorite authors: Julie Klam, Ann Leary and Laura Zigman (New York Times bestselling books, famous spouses, film adaptations and now an NPR affiliate program--these hags have it all!). We were talking about summer reading, which is all anyone wants to talk with me about at this time of year. Someone mentioned the perils of reading in the pool, and I said, "All you have to do is place your e-reader or Kindle or Nook in a Ziploc bag and you're set!" My kind hosts all murmured how smart I am, but really, I know better. It's not a matter of cleverness. It's desperation.
I am one of those readers who simply cannot be without a book, any more than an adolescent boy can be without his gaming device. My neediness leads me to believe that books of many sorts will survive. Allow me to explain, or at least expostulate for a bit. At different times in my life, different ways to read have prevailed. From well-worn library volumes whose battered spines would stay open while I ate cereal to compact mass-market paperbacks I could stuff in a backpack, on to brand-new hardcovers that my hands found easier to hold than other trim sizes, I've read things in the form and size that worked for easiest toting and easiest use.
When it comes right down to it, while one way to read may have slight advantages over another in a given situation--and I'd certainly be more comfortable leaving a battered paperback on my beach chair than a shiny new e-reader--what matters isn't the way I read. I think I'm going to imitate a former president and put a sign on my desk. Mine will say, "It's the reading, stupid." --Bethanne Patrick