I knew it wasn’t just me.

The Pleasures of a Big Fat Book

The Song of the Dodo by David Quammen had been sitting on my to-read shelf for about three years. Even though I wanted to read it, I kept avoiding it because, frankly, it was so darned long. I kept choosing shorter books and a growing diet of internet hors d’ouevres and snacks. […]

The sturdy hardback fell open in my hands in an easy way. The book’s weighty body felt good to hold. I enjoyed the reader’s ritual of choosing a lovely bookmark to hold my place as I progressed through the long work. […]

It was as I read this hefty book that I realized my brain was entering a very different space. Rather than bopping around in a scattershot fashion, I was drawn to focus. […]

In these fast-paced times, when readers’ attention spans are shrinking like puddles in the sun, publishers say the market demands shorter and pithier books. Some even look ahead and wonder if books’ days are numbered. […]

To lose big books would be tragic. Reading a great fat book is a classic quality experience. There is nothing like it.

Yeah. What she said.

5 thoughts on “I knew it wasn’t just me.

  • January 12, 2009 at 9:50 am

    My issue with big fat books is that I sometimes fall asleep reading and clock myself with the book as it falls out of my hands. Ouch. >_<

  • January 12, 2009 at 2:44 pm

    Chosha, silly rabbit. Trix are for kids. That’s what an e-book reader is for. ::cheeky grin::

  • January 12, 2009 at 8:34 pm

    There’s nothing like a big long book that you’re loving, and you can’t wait to get back to, and you dread it ending. I’ve been sucked into little pithy books lately. I need to unsuck myself.

  • January 12, 2009 at 10:55 pm

    That might be a neat trick 😉


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