To Have and to Hold

Since I announced the publication of my novel on Kindle, how many people have said to me, "Yes, but  I love to have an actual book in my hands. I love to hold a physical thing...No, I'll never use a Kindle."(Of course, other electronic reading devices are available).

I totally get it.

But.

I think back to the mid 90s when I lived in Japan. The sound of the mail man braking his scooter produced a Pavlovian response in me. No, I didn't salivate, quite, but my pulse would quicken, my mood would lift.

It meant I had letters. Hand-written. Some pleasingly fat, some slim despatches on a single sheet aerogramme. Some embellished with stickers, or commemorative stamps obscured with a newly inked frank. Running-out biros, fluent fountain pens, errant capital letters and curious interpretations of my Japanese address.

And what lay within? The physical act of putting pen to paper. Paper that had been breathed on and pressed against in a distant land. Smudges and scrubbings out, grumblings and wonderings. Questions asked and answered, blithe discourses on trips taken, films watched, places visited. Sometimes 'it's time for bed - will finish this tomorrow', sometimes 'I can't think of what else to say, bye till next time'.

And so to respond. The delightful confection of Japanese stationery awaited me. Classic should-be-written left to right paper with wood-cut images, cutesy cartoon animals, babies, flowers, patterns. Opaque, onion-skin, lined, watermarked. The choice was mine. Pop in a photo, a sticker, a flattened origami figure. Lots of Love.

So then, if someone had said: Forget all this letter-writing, what about sending and receiving electronic messages instead? I'd have said, "Yes, but I love to have an actual letter in my hands. I love to hold a physical thing that someone has created...why would I want an electronic message on a computer instead?"

But how the landscape of life alters. One Post Office remains. A twenty-minute wait and I might not even have the change for the stamps if I've written more than three pages...not that I can claim to do that these days. The friends determined to eschew FB and stick to writing those paper gems that land on my doorstep remain banished to some outpost of a windblown Luddite prairie. Unacknowledged.

The cheapness and convenience of electronic communication has won me over and my boxes of letters join the case of mix-tapes in the loft. Covered with the dust of nostalgia.

Do I ever open up my laptop with the eagerness that I once awaited the postman? Rarely.

Maybe if I've put something on Ebay...