It’s been widely reported that in the past couple of years e-book sales have leveled off. Barring some currently unforeseen innovations — and those could certainly happen at any time — we have a situation in which a relatively few people read books on dedicated e-readers like the Kindle, considerably more people read on the smartphones, and the great majority read paper codexes.
My own reading habits have not leveled off: I have become more and more of a Kindle reader. This surprises me somewhat, because at the same time I have learned to do more and more of my writing by hand, in notebooks, and have limited my participation in the digital realm. So why am I reading so much on my Kindle? Several reasons:
- It would be disingenuous of me to deny that the ability to buy books instantly and to be reading them within a few seconds of purchase doesn’t play a role. I am as vulnerable to the temptations of immediate gratification as anyone else.
- When I’m reading anything that demands intense or extended attention I don’t want to do anything except read, so reading on a smartphone, with all its distractions, is not an option. (Plus, the Kindle’s screen is far easier on my eyes.)
- I own thousands of books and it’s not easy to find room for new ones. My office at Baylor is quite large, and I could fit another bookcase in it, but I read at home far more often than at the office, and I already have books stacked on the floor in my study because the bookshelves are filled. So saving room is a factor — plus, anything I have on the Kindle is accessible wherever I am, since the Kindle is always in my backpack. I therefore avoid those Oh crap, I left that book at the office moments. (And as everyone knows who keeps books in two places, the book you need is always in the place where you aren’t.)
- I highlight and annotate a good bit when I read, and the Kindle stores those highlighted passages and notes in a text file, which I can easily copy to my computer. I do that copying once a week or so. So I have a file called MyClippings.txt that contains around 600,000 words of quotations and notes, and will own that file even if Amazon kills the Kindle tomorrow. My text editor, BBEdit, can easily handle documents far larger than that, so searching is instantaneous. It’s a very useful research tool.
- Right now I’m re-reading my hardcover copy of Matthew Crawford’s The World Beyond Your Head — more on that in another post — and it’s an attractive, well-designed book (with one of the best covers ever), a pleasure to hold and read. But as a frequent Kindle user I can’t help being aware how many restrictions reading this way places upon me: I have to have an adequate light source, and if I’m going to annotate it only a small range of postures is available to me. (You know that feeling where you’re trying to make a note while lying on your back and holding the book in the air, or on your upraised knee, and your handwriting gets shaky and occasionally unreadable because you can’t hold the book steady enough? — that’s no way to live.) Especially as I get older and require more light to read by than I used to, the ability to adjust the Kindle’s screen to my needs grows more appealing; and I like being able to sit anywhere, or lie down, or even walk around, while reading without compromising my ability to see or annotate the text.
For me, reading on the Kindle has just one significant practical drawback: it’s too easy to abandon books. And I don’t mean books that I’m just not interested in — I’m generally in favor of abandoning those — but books that for any number of reasons I need to stick with and finish. I can just tap my way over to something else, and that’s easier than I’d like it to be. (That I’m not the only one who does this can be seen by anyone who activates the Popular Highlights feature on a Kindle: almost all of them are in the first few pages of books.)
By contrast, when I’m reading a codex, not only am I unable to look at a different book while holding the same object, I have a different perception of my investment in the text. I might read fifty pages of a book on Kindle and annotate it thoroughly, and then set it aside without another thought. But when I’ve annotated fifty pages of a codex, I am somehow bothered by all those remaining unread and unmarked pages. A book whose opening pages are marked up but the rest left untouched just feels like, looks like, an unfinished job. I get an itch to complete the reading so that I can see and take satisfaction from annotations all the way through. I never feel that way when I read an e-book.
That’s the status report from this reader’s world.
UPDATE: Via Jennifer Howard on Twitter, this report on book sales in the first half of 2016 suggests that the “revival of print books” is driven to a possibly troubling extent by the enormous popularity of adult coloring books. Maybe in the end e-books will be the last refuge for actual readers.
July 7, 2016