The Sad Destiny of Books

I’ve read a book yesterday.

Whaaat?
Yesterday?
You read a Book?
WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT?

Ha, but wait, dear fellow writers! I was lucky enough to be able to read an out-of-print book. I sort of mindlessly stumbled upon it in the audiobook section of an app I merely cannot live without these days.
It almost felt like finding a treasure in that used book store nearby where I used to live, about a decade ago. Good times!

It’s the kind of book you might not be able to find in a library either. Indeed, if you live anywhere else than here, in my little North-American francophone bubble, you will definitely not find it anywhere.

(Side note: aren’t you baffle sometimes by the incredible amount of wonderful stories we’ll never read because they are buried in libraries everywhere in the world, written in languages we’ll never learn. Author Carlos Luis Zafon explores the idea in The Cemetery of Forgotten Books; a beautiful novel, if ever you like a bit of magic.)

It’s a young kid novel, released in 2011. The first of 4. And like I said, out-of-print. A fairly interesting little novel, brought back to life by the kind people in charge of the Audiobook section on the OHdio app.

Now, the scene is set. Time for a little confession. I’ve always had ambiguous feelings towards audiobooks, and even more twisted feelings toward Epub and PDF books. My affection is growing over time, still…

Still, I grew up with books printed on paper.
I felt so lucky, back when I worked in bookstores and bookshops, to be able to get my hands on secret ARCs, to discover new books every single week.

I love, love, love spending time curled up with a book in my hands (although, I read less nowadays).
I love the smell of the pages – yep, I’m that kind of gal -, I love the moment where you realized you read a paragraph twice already and it might be time to go to bed but… just one last chapter.

Thing is, as I briefly mentioned above, there’s a bunch of fresh new books released Every Single Week. Of that bunch, there might be ten, twenty new novels, if we agree to mingle all genres and ages here. The most devoted book clerk, the most avid reader can’t possibly read them all.

This leads me back to the main topic of this post: the sad destiny of books.

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