Here is another reason why I love paper-printed books.
I got eight books for Christmas.
Each was wrapped separately. I was able to open them each one at a time, enjoy the covers, front and back, feel the book’s weight and the texture of the paper, take a few moments to browse through each one, read the tables of contents, and build up my anticipation for reading.
I can spread them out on the floor with the covers showing…
or stack them to see the spines…
and get visual and tactile pleasure out of the cover art, the styles of type—all the work of the designers.
While shopping for Christmas I was able to spend a few happy hours browsing in a couple of bookstores looking for books for my husband. It was a refuge and respite from the hectic atmosphere of the malls and department stores, and I was able to get exactly what he wanted along with a few surprises—which is exactly what he got for me.
And the best part: settling in my recliner with that first book surrounded by the pine scent of the Christmas tree along with the unmatchable smell of a new book.
Books--real paper-and-ink books--are my favorite gifts ever.