Musing about the joy of books.

I'm hearing from folks all over the country that their copies of Through a Screen Darkly are arriving in the mail.

Isn't it strange? You can write about anything on the Internet, and it can be read all over the world instantly. But if you put it on paper, and it takes days for it to arrive somewhere in the mail, suddenly everybody agrees that it's a reason to celebrate!

The Internet is great, but as far as I'm concerned... books are still the best mode of reading. When you hold the book, turn the page, and have the whole thing in a lasting package that can be handed on from one person to the next, one generation to the next... and you can mark things and highlight things... that's something special.

Not only that, but when you're online, you have the option of switching from subject to subject rapidly. And you are always aware of your own power to engage and respond.

With a book, you're required to be humble and patient... and to chew on what is served to you.

I took some time out from the computer today to read Eugene Peterson's Eat This Book, and I felt so refreshed. Part of that was the beauty and profundity of what Peterson has written. And part of it was the fact that I wasn't staring at a glowing screen, but looking at ink on paper and relaxing into the pleasure of the language.

And the Internet's got nothing on books when it comes to olfactory aspect. Peterson's Eat This Book makes me want to taste and digest good literature, but I keep holding the book up to my nose too, just to breathe that new-book smell...