The Quality of Paper and Cloth

Sometimes, I choose a book based soley on its physical appeal.  If it’s pretty, I want it.  Hardcover?  Deckled-edged pages?  Thicker paper stock, nice and creamy, covered in a lovely font?  A dustcover that almost calls out to me with its beauty?  Oh, yeah….  I gotta have it.  Just holding this thing of beauty in my hands is a pleasure.  Opening up its covers and delving inside for its secrets is delightful. 

I’ve seen people hug books they’ve just found, like they’ve discovered a treasure they don’t want taken from them.  I completely understand this.  In fact, I’m generally reluctant to loan out books (shameful! How selfish of me!) but will gladly borrow one from you.  If it’s very pretty, I might decide you’ve given me a gift, so be wary of loaning me a book.  I realize it’s very hypocritical of me, to be eager to “borrow” a book from you (permanently) but be reluctant to loan one to you. 

It’s just that all books, regardless of their tactile perfection, are precious to me!  They’ve all got souls and personalities and agendas; they seem to live secret lives, adventures far away.  I don’t write as many letters using paper and ink as I once did, but I’ll never abandon my love for the paper and ink found in books.