For my birthday this year, my wife gave me an iPad Air (thank you!) Unbeknownst to me, this was to radically change my reading habits.
I am–perhaps was, now with the iPad–huge fan of libraries and bookstores: the smell of age-worn books, newspapers and old people; the sounds of teenagers and their gossipy tongues; and the pitter-patter thumping of little feet on carpeted wooden floors. Oh, and I suppose, the books themselves.
Ever since I got the iPad though, and downloaded both the iBooks and Kindle apps, I haven’t experienced the pull the libraries and bookstores used to have on me. Almost all my reading has been done on the iPad these past couple of weeks I’ve had it, and the only reason I got to bookstores is to get ideas on what book I should digitally procure next.
But one thing that I’ve noticed is that reading books on the iPad provides a slightly different experience. For some reason, it doesn’t gel with reading for pure fun or enjoyment.
I’ve had great success in moving most of my reading toward the iPad for non-fiction, business- and psychology-type books, but less so for the more fictional, narrative, or biographical- and travel-type books. On the former, what I’ve especially liked is the fact that I could highlight and add notes at will, adding a whole different dimension to my reading.
For some reason, when I’m on the iPad my mind races toward what I hope to get out of the book, as opposed to enjoying the book for what it is.