There is little in this life that I won't try at least once.
Eating squid? Check.
Skinny dipping? Check.
But there is one thing I have sworn to myself that I will never do.
Let it be known that I will never buy a Nook. Or a Kindle. Or whatever other traitor to books Apple inevitably develops (they probably already have, I am so not tech-savvy).
Some of my fondest childhood memories are the hot, sticky summer days when my Grandma would drop my sister and I off at the gloriously air-conditioned local library where we would spend hours on end poring over all the selections in the beautiful Children's Room. Just happening upon the literary murals adorning the walls stirred up my imagination and pleaded my entrance into a world of adventure and wonder.
There is something so romantic and heartwarming about stumbling into a little hole-in-the-wall book store. Fingertips grazing the spines of those stories loved and lost by their audiences. Offering up their words to each passerby. Begging to be heard and hoping to change each reader forever.
I have had many a friend or acquaintance tell me, "I always thought I was a book-lover, too, but it'll grow on you." But the truth is, I never want it to. I want a bookshelf with warped-paged novels, doggy-eared cookbooks and stories waiting to be shared with a friend or neighbor.
Kindles can suck it. I am a bookworm through and through.