You would think with my love of my Kindle and resulting ties to Amazon that I would be over the regular brick and mortar bookstore. And for the last couple of months, it would certainly seem that way. But a few days ago, I had some time to kill between work and dinner and a very specific errand I needed to run at Barnes & Noble. I wanted to buy a book – yes, an actual paperback – to send to a friend. (She’s probably reading this now and doesn’t know it’s about her. Reading for Robin: Full of mystery.)
The task was simple enough, but I got sucked in. I should have known… it’s genetic. You see I come from a family of Barnes & Noble-aholics. My mom loved a good trip to the bookstore and my dad could, much to our chagrin at times, spend hours perusing the shelves.
Even having a specific purpose didn’t deter me from being pulled into the displays. First I was drawn to the New in Hardcover table where I read the description of The Irresistible Henry House. Tempting, very tempting, but new hardcovers are just not in the budget. Then I moved on to the New in Paperback and Paperback Favorites tables. I pored over the back covers of books on my mom’s list (The Elegance of the Hedgehog, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay, Schooled) and plenty that aren’t on the list (The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie, The Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet). I could have walked out of there with at least five books. Fortunately I exercised some self-control and reminded myself I have a Kindle, a not-so-disposable income and way too many books to read already.
I paid for the one book I came to buy and left with just a few backwards glances at the display tables. It’s nice to know though, that even with shiny technology luring me to websites and whatnot, a bookstore can still have an effect on me.