Blog Post #2: What is a book?

If the notion of a book, an actual book with pages and ink, disappears, then we have lost the art form that is writing indefinitely. I say this because what makes a book a book is the feel of the pages, the weight of the ink pressed onto the paper, the smell of the text, the sound the bindings make when being opened for the first time. What makes a manuscript a genuine book is in fact when the author’s words, every single carefully selected word crafted with brutal elegance, printed onto the pages that are bound into the artistically made coverings of the very document that author spent many long nights trying to complete.  I say this because writing is a prideful occupation. How much satisfaction can a real author get from electronic sales? Not very much if you ask me. To know you have made it in the literally world you have to appeal to the true fans of reading; the readers that want to hold the actual book in their hands, the readers that prefer to read the sophisticated way, the way that has been around since man could translate their thoughts onto something for others to see. You see, society today has gotten very lazy and impatient. Today’s society prefers electronic books because it is fast and easy, lighter for their slothful arms to hold, equipped with a built in light so their oh-so-sensitive eyes can read at night with greater ease, and the list goes on and on. A book is the portal to the story. You open the book; you open the world that it holds inside. You open your Kindle or Nook and you are not so effortlessly transported to the fictitious place that is the story. We are comparing apples and oranges here. A book vs. an electronic reading device is a vicious battle. Unfortunately, the only reason why there is a decline in book sales and an influx in electronic book sales is this; today’s society is too lazy to appreciate the value of the book, and what it adds to the actual story, and is too distracted by the latest electronic craze. After all, without the ink, paper, and bindings what will we call a book? A story? A tale? A fictitious account? And how will we portray the magic of a new book to future generations if all they have left is the rotting books society deemed unworthy to love?