Upon reading the release announcement of my first e-book, an editor friend called to offer her congratulations.
“But how am I going to read it,” she lamented. “I don’t have an e-book reader and I’ve no idea how to go about downloading it anyway. I’m old-school.”
After reassuring her that she could easily download a PDF file that she could read on her laptop, I thought about how she’d referred to herself as “old-school.” I guess I’m in that classification myself. In fact, I’m even older old-school than she is. And I’m decidedly a dinosaur when it comes to technology. Though comfortable with the most popular computer programs, I’m seriously lacking expertise with other de rigueur electronic devices.
For instance, I don’t have an MP3 player, preferring CDs and the occasional audiotape. I’ve never owned (let alone operated) a video camera. I have a still camera that requires film and processing. I’ve only had a cell phone for about four years. I have never texted (gasp!).
So, while I’m not exactly a Luddite, I clearly have not kept up with the bounding leaps of products that most others consider necessities. But I do have an e-book reader. Why? There’s a bunch of reasons:
1. Thousands of books are available anywhere, any time. Okay, admittedly, you gotta have an Internet connection, but even I have one of those. And if I wake at three in the morning, unable to sleep, with a serious jones for Jane Austin, I can get it in minutes.
2. I can adjust the typeface and font size to make reading easier (important for us old farts).
3. They hold sooo many books.
4. They free up shelf space for other things, such as pictures of my dog and bowls of candy.
5. No paper needed; no trees die.
6. Many e-books are free—especially some of those classics I’ve always meant to get to.
7. Some of the books I like to read are only available as e-books.
8. My dog can’t chew the covers.
9. My husband gave me one for my birthday.
10. I love all things about reading and books. How could I scoff at a new way to celebrate being a serious bibliophile?
I know, I know, there are some downsides to e-books. They don’t smell or feel like a print book (and who doesn’t love book smell and feel?). You can’t turn back the corners of the pages to mark your place (and shame on you if you do anyway). You won’t get to use that beautiful crocheted bookmark and hand-made lace paperback book cover that Aunt Martha sent you for Christmas.
Yet, I feel good about jumping on the e-book library cart and wholly endorsing this new way of reading. Seriously, don’t you think a lot of people felt old-school about the horse and wagon when those new horseless carriages made an appearance? And look where that bit of technology led.
About the Author:Emly Forrest is the author of the erotic novel, The Last Resort, (Lyrical Press, 2010) and a novella, Irish Ice, to be published in March 2011 (also from Lyrical Press). She is a full-time RVer and has traveled across the U.S. dozens of times. Her favorite places include almost anywhere in Montana and also the Gulf Coast of Louisiana. Visit Emly at www.emlyforrest.com or contact her at email@example.com.
What's a woman to do when her husband of over twenty years decides to move on to greener (and younger) pastures? Move on, too! Which is what Margaret Murphy Ryder--Murph to just about everyone--does in this story of personal and erotic reawakening. On the road in her motorhome, with a moderate bankroll and no destination, Murph rediscovers the exhilaration of sex and begins to reestablish her sense of self. All goes well, until she has an almost tragic encounter that sours her on traveling alone and returns her to the tiny Gulf Coast community of Spoonbill Beach, Louisiana--a place that felt like home the first time she visited. Here she buys a failing RV park, makes some friends (and friends with benefits), and reunites with Lee Soloman—a long-lost sexual obsession and hard-core biker.
The woman you'd want for your best friend, Murph is forthright, fearless, and funny. Determined to make a go of it, she also recognizes that she doesn't want to go all of it alone. From Northern Michigan to Louisiana Cajun Country, The Last Resort takes you along for the ride.