At times like this, when life is hard and my reality feels a little too hard to face, escapism is key. Browsing flights, looking at job adverts in far-off cities and binge watching US teen dramas are all part of this coping mechanism, but nothing soothes me like curling up under a blanket with a book.
As an avid reader who always likes to have a book to hand and packs several books for every holiday, you’d expect me to have leapt on the Kindle bandwagon. But I’ve never been keen. Yes they’re super convenient and I’d save so much suitcase space, but for me nothing outweighs the comfort I feel when I open a paperback. I love the feel of the paper between my fingers, the musty smell of the pages, the beautiful cover designs.
The same goes for magazines. Of course I read lots of blogs and articles online and you can’t argue with the sheer volume and variety of material that the internet makes available, but I love having a magazine subscription that lands a physical collection of words on my doormat every month.
It feels like a kind of therapy. When I’ve lulled myself into a Netflix coma or scrolled Twitter for so long my brain is scrambled, I put away my devices, open my book and feel my thoughts start to settle.With every page turn I drift away from the real world, sinking into the one on the page in front of me, and I just don’t get the same sense of piece when I’m staring at a tablet. And so I carry on buying physical books; waiting for them to be delivered, watching my bookcases overflow and carting 800-page tomes around in my bag. All for the love of print.