Is there such a thing as biblio-manic-depression?

A few months ago I couldn't find a thing I wanted to read. I picked up mysteries, memoirs, essays, old favorites; read via print, audio, and kindle. Nothing captured me. I'd endured book malaise before, but never with such persistence. Had I lost my great passion? or had my mind merely yielded to the prevailing culture, where reading too often means skimming a few lines on screen, clicking on a link, racing through emails--all of it barely breaking the surface of my brain. Would I ever finish a book again? More importantly, would I ever be totally immersed again in a book I never wanted to end, a book like The Prince of Tides or The Shadow of the Wind or the Mary Stewart romances I read in seventh grade?

A month earlier son Michael had insisted that the first book I should download onto my new kindle was The World to Come by Dara Horn. I finally dug into it as I took off for a week in Sedona. Maybe it was the magic of beginning a vacation, but I dove into the book and didn't want to surface until the end. It's a beautifully written story about a lost young man in New York City who steals a Chagall painting that he believes once belonged to his family. The story floats through time like Chagall's night flyers, transporting us back to the lives of Benjamin's ancestors, Russian Jews who fled to America. I loved every page of it, even the somewhat bizarre last chapter that seems to belong in a slightly different book but is well worth reading in its own right.

Did I mention that Dara Horn has a PhD in comparative literature and three novels under her belt, though she's barely past thirty? Jealousy aside, I'm grateful to her for ending my book blahs.

Hooked on the Kindle

After wondering whether it would be a betrayal of all I hold dear to become a Kindle reader (see Jan 08 entry below), I was given one for my birthday. At first I felt like I'd gone over to the Dark Side, but it didn't take long to develop the zeal of the convert. Maybe it was the first time I Kindle-read a newspaper over breakfast and I could "turn the page" without putting down my cereal spoon. Or maybe it was being able to turn up the font size so that I could read without glasses while lying on my side in bed.

I used to carry several novels and magazines when I traveled so I could indulge whatever reading whim grabbed me. Now I just take my Kindle. I can download a book from anywhere in thirty seconds. Even better are free first chapters and sample periodicals.

Learning to use the Kindle is easy, since its functions are focused and limited. And the actual reading experience is just what amazon's Jeff Bezos said he wanted Kindle to provide, one that makes the vehicle invisible so that you can just READ.

Do I miss "real" books? No, since I still buy and read them, and my home will always be full of them. I do occasionally miss book covers and blurbs, as hokey as they are. I love the thrill of anticipation I get when a book begins with pages of rave reviews, which I haven't seen in a Kindle edition. But I can easily find those elsewhere if I want.

The Kindle isn't perfect. It sometimes fails to list the source on passages I've clipped, and some of the New Yorker cartoons are illegible. But it's a great option for avid readers--or will be once the price comes down.