Format doesn’t matter to me (but I love stroking the covers)
In my first post I (briefly) mentioned a thing I have about format. It doesn’t matter to me. I like physical books and e-books and I don’t care how things come to me as long as I can read them, as long as I can sink myself into that world with luxurious abandon.
There are places I prefer one over the other – physical copy is better for reading in the bath, e-books for long journeys – but in general I don’t give a shit how I read.
However. There’s always a however.
I have an almost sexual lust for the smell of paper and the feel of book covers under my fingers.