The other day, after some long-time craving on my part, and some short-time discussion with David, I bought a Kobo reader. It's the Chapters-Indigo version of a Kindle, a canuck e-reader. (Actually, now that I've googled an image, I see that Barnes and Noble and other foreign bookstores carry it too)
Don't get me wrong. I love books. I have loved books all my life, and have bought them in their thousands because I love to read, because I love the feel of them, because they make me laugh or cry, because I love a good story or a beautiful layout, and because, luckily, I could. But I live in a condo with books in bookcases, books in bedside tables and books in relatively neat stacks on the floor which I share with a man who, if he could have his dearest wish, would be able to carry all his possessions on his back. Deliberate and well-managed compromise has been one of the keystones of our long and successful marriage, and if I can use that to my advantage and still look like I'm not just falling for another gadget, well woohoo!
I couldn't wait to get home, charge it up and transfer some of the e-books I'd already bought to read on my laptop. Damn, it was hard. I couldn't get my laptop to acknowledge I had anything plugged into the USB port, and after a couple of frustrated tries, I unplugged the reader and visited Facebook as a way of offsetting my urge to drop the beautiful thing in the sink.
Dave, that man of generosity and compromise, spent hours on the phone with someone in a far-flung country who advised us that the motherboard on my beloved laptop was fritzed, and that we'd have to send the whole shebang back to the company, which would take 12 or 15 days after we received the special box for laptop-returning.
So that's why I'm reading Jane Austen on my Kobo in the daytime and Peter Robinson on my laptop in the middle of the night. And why in spite of our excellent analysis of how to control the books-in-the-condo situation, I'm still feeling guilt. But it's mixed with the joy of carrying 100 books in my 6 x 8 inch purple thingy.